The following poems merited Special Mention:
Katy Cossham: The Elephant in Four Rooms
Eleanor Cantor: Sharon
Julio Etchart: Hide and Seek (a las escondidas)
Elia Isaac: they ask me how did you get here? can't you see it on my body?
the elephant in four rooms
Katy Cossham
I
this isn't about the last morning in that old cottage
or the patter of children's feet on the lane
it doesn’t concern the boiler that whirred in its special warm room
how it combined with the hum of the fan
this has nothing to do with the end of a simple life
the pull away from a little dream
II
nor is this about the time I prepped for a eulogy like it was a race
water bottle deep breaths nerves of steel feelings boxed
it’s not about me clad in black wrap skirt tight around my waist
or the lost weight since my father's life stopped
and mine turned upside down
nor does it cover the small golden discs hung in chains from my ears
a gift from the man present though under a lid
and a bed of cool hued pastel summer flowers
III
and this is certainly not about the tick tick tick of the strange oven
as it cooked the cheese and vegetable pie
whose pastry had been rolled with love and a bottle of ale
nor did I wonder how many people make pastry in a holiday home
as the savoury smells drifted my way
and I can’t recall if I tucked one leg under the other
or whether I sat encased in a soft pink cotton tunic
I doubt my crocheted cardigan was made by my daughter
and I shan’t remark if this doubled its comfort
IV
this is not a poem about two breaststroke swimmers in a lane of front crawlers
how we were a similar speed but I had the edge on him
it's not about the way he chugged on by
sent waves I tasted twice and spluttered away
I won’t say it felt better to trail him than have him at my tail
no need to describe his bald head broad neck and arms
how he shouldered on relentless through the pool
it would be wrong to think I was glad to get out
rise up from the water get back to my day
It's not or not only about any of those things
It's about loss and fear of loss
of what I have once had and never had
It's about how I'm lucky and scared and try to be brave
It's about growing up overnight only to find I'll always be a child inside
It's about hunger wanting to be fed with love
It's about push and pull attract repel
whether it’s safer alone inside my shell
Sharon
Eleanor Cantor
My sister’s middle name is “Queen”
she never uses it
she lives it.
Her golden touch
takes everything and leaves
her hungry
What she says goes
except in the army
where girls bow before men
in ill-fitting skirts given
on purpose, she says, to break you.
The drafting officer
put middle name first and first as middle
Her commands were ignored
so following orders, she was Queen
for two years.
Friday
takes her Khakis off
cast away dog-tag
as she shakes her mane
I trace the number and her jumbled
name and ask about the dotted
line. “If I die in battle” she says through the mirror
red lipstick
sets off white wifebeater
“and my body is
behind enemy lines, someone – a valiant comrade
will snap the disc in half
and bring it home
to say ‘There lies Queen Sharon
Royal bitch
and exemplary soldier
killed in action
died long before’”
Hide and seek (a las escondidas)
Julio Etchart
(to Alex)
We play hide and seek, a las escondidas
in a maze of rhododendrons, en la casa de las flores
su sonrisa traviesa, hiding behind flowers
moments of joy turn into panic
donde esta el ñate?
hiding behind bushes, en la fresca primavera
finally, I catch a glimpse and race to the pond
lo salvé del agua y por fin respiro,
breathless…
a terrible two, dos años de vida
a young forty-something, cambiando su historia
changing his fate
A score of years before they hid him, too
lo desaparecieron
in a basement void of flowers,
en la oscuridad
his own father dio vuelta cielo y tierra,
heaven and earth he sought
till he found him again, and sent him away
corre, corre, que te van a matar!
fly for your life!
le devolvió su vida, in faraway lands
Years later, the terrible two
creció, sufrió, aprendió
matured into a rebel thirty-something
el eterno pibe rebelde
and keeps playing with papo
colaborando y conspirando; son et lumière
Now they are faster than the old man;
que vueltas tiene la vida…
toques y ocupaciones,
chip off the old block, they say,
but the latest update: Version 3.6 Beta
One day, it will be my turn to hide
but they won't find me
estaré muy escondido entre las nubes del tiempo
They’ll seek me in the rain and will write me a song
la canción del cosmos, dedicated to our earlier flowery play
nuestro juego eterno en la casa de las flores
And we will carry on playing hide and seek,
forever…
A las escondidas para siempre ...
they ask me how did you get here? can't you see it on my body?
after warsan shire
Elia Isaac
the doctor says no says the scans show my blood flowing backwards it did not sign up
for this says i need more tests my bones are bad bones they carry a hollow whistle i
ask if i can get new ones he asks if my mum smoked if my dad cried bit her
tongue passed down her second thoughts ones left on a bedside table a
dead fly in stale water the doctor wraps a cuff around my arm asks if the bloated body of judas
could be squeezed into my fist times how long i clench how long it takes
for fruit to bruise whether i could tell from sight alone asks if my stomach is full of
gnawing names stuck beneath gum swallowed from fifth grade asks if my parents
have a wine cellar if my blood would age well like christ or sour in the sun.