{"id":1148,"date":"2008-01-18T10:05:00","date_gmt":"2008-01-18T10:05:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=1148"},"modified":"2008-01-18T10:05:00","modified_gmt":"2008-01-18T10:05:00","slug":"two-poems-by-ward-abel","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/two-poems-by-ward-abel\/","title":{"rendered":"Two poems by Ward Abel"},"content":{"rendered":"

FULLNESS<\/span>


Something breathing<\/span>
rises, falls, <\/span>
tides pulled by sentience<\/span>
wisdom<\/span>
her lips<\/span>
parted as if beginning<\/span>
speech<\/span>
or receiving touch<\/span>
a song plays<\/span>
across the empty fields<\/span>
breaks like brookings<\/span>
on the way to fullness<\/span>
wideness<\/span>
open sea.<\/span>
And the waters swim me<\/span>
without knowing me<\/span>
envelop me with arms<\/span>
that smell of perfume<\/span>
and gel<\/span>
and weather.<\/span>
I am fine with that.<\/span>
More than fine.<\/span>



RELIEF<\/span>


When it's quiet<\/span>
and things haven't happened yet,<\/span>
all I can hear is sunlight <\/span>
alone in the hum of ringing.<\/span>
Thoughts of what will be,<\/span>
failure and choice,<\/span>
preoccupy my energy and plans<\/span>
of action, <\/span>
but inaction solves<\/span>
all of this,<\/span>
repose murders the demon.<\/span>


\u2022 Poet, composer of music (Max Able\/Abel, Rawls & Hayes) and spoken-word<\/span> performer (Scapeweavel), L. Ward Abel lives in rural Georgia, USA and<\/span> has been widely published in the US, Europe and Asia. His chapbook <\/span>Peach Box and Verge<\/span> has been  published by Little Poem Press (2003).<\/span> Twenty of his poems are featured, along with an interview, in a recent<\/span> print issue of erbacce<\/span> (UK). His new book of poems Jonesing For<\/span><\/span> Byzantium<\/span> has recently been published at UK Authors Press (London,<\/span> 2006).       <\/span>
<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

FULLNESSSomething breathingrises, falls, tides pulled by sentiencewisdomher lipsparted as if beginningspeechor receiving toucha song playsacross the empty fieldsbreaks like brookingson the way to fullnesswidenessopen sea.And the waters swim mewithout knowing meenvelop me with armsthat smell of perfumeand geland weather.I am fine with that.More than fine.RELIEFWhen it's quietand things haven't happened yet,all I can hear is […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1148","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1148","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1148"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1148\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1148"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1148"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1148"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}