{"id":1183,"date":"2008-03-06T19:25:00","date_gmt":"2008-03-06T19:25:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=1183"},"modified":"2008-03-06T19:25:00","modified_gmt":"2008-03-06T19:25:00","slug":"two-poems-by-julia-webb","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/two-poems-by-julia-webb\/","title":{"rendered":"Two poems by Julia Webb"},"content":{"rendered":"

Camping<\/span>
 <\/span>
If I could snuff out the world <\/span>
I would, <\/span>
if I could chase away <\/span>
the what once was, <\/span>
if I could glance at a mirror <\/span>
and catch a glimpse <\/span>
of an unspoilt smile.<\/span>

Instead I climb dark stairs, <\/span>
cloak the mirrors, <\/span>
shut the curtains tight <\/span>
against the moon's perfect face <\/span>
and dream of canvas walls, <\/span>
acres of clean sky, <\/span>
and wait (once more) <\/span>
for the candle's spark <\/span>
and the gas bottle to blow.<\/span>
 <\/p>\n


<\/span>Mitten<\/span>
 <\/span>
Making shapes with her hands<\/span>
that comfort her<\/span>
when no one else can,<\/span>
touching frosted milk bottles<\/span>
that guard the dry stone doorsteps,<\/span>
 <\/span>
touching them for luck,<\/span>
for the ritual of the bend,<\/span>
the extending of the arm.<\/span>
 <\/span>
“Mittens cannot be part of this world”<\/span>
she thinks, as she passes the park,<\/span>
she sees a glove in the grass,<\/span>
its fingers black and limp<\/span>
curling into octopus wetness,<\/span>
 <\/span>
she stoops to touch it,<\/span>
but just as her fingers reach towards it,<\/span>
she remembers that gloves are the enemy,<\/span>
 <\/span>
snatches them away,<\/span>
standing tall,<\/span>
averting her eyes<\/span>
she leaves it there<\/span>
mournful and alone.<\/p>\n

\u2022 Julia Webb is a mature student in the second year of BA Creative Writing at Norwich School of Art and Design.
<\/span><\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Camping If I could snuff out the world I would, if I could chase away the what once was, if I could glance at a mirror and catch a glimpse of an unspoilt smile.Instead I climb dark stairs, cloak the mirrors, shut the curtains tight against the moon's perfect face and dream of canvas walls, acres […]<\/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-1183","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1183","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=1183"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1183\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1183"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1183"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1183"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}