<\/p>\n
Maybe it was the sense of speed, the need to leave it all behind and yet remain ‘weirdly still in the centre’, but Christian Wethered’s ‘Blade’ raced home to be Ink Sweat & Tears’ Pick of the Month for November 2016.<\/p>\n
‘Blade’ is one of IS&T’s entries for the 2017 Forward Prizes For Poetry Best Single Poem Award<\/a>.<\/p>\n Christian, 29, works in London as a freelance tutor and musician. He was a finalist in the Aesthetica Creative Works competition and the Decanto Poetry Competition. He has also been published in The Penwood Review<\/em> and The Caterpillar.<\/em><\/p>\n Christian has asked that his \u00a310 prize be donated to The Samaritans<\/a> and will also, in the spirit of the season, receive a complimentary copy of our Christmas anthology TWELVE: Slanted Poems for Christmas<\/a>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Blade<\/strong><\/p>\n Sometimes you can ride it, like in Texas when <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Voters comments included:<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Beautiful and escapist. Atmospheric. Reads like a journey away from the cold and the dark.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n Liked the idea of becoming a vanishing point and the image of the desert being distorted and wrapped around.<\/em> <\/span><\/p>\n Love the open road! This poem was a welcome thought break during the work day. <\/span><\/em><\/p>\n Beautiful imagery – a real sense of movement whilst being still, very clever.<\/em> <\/span><\/p>\n Gets my vote because it makes me cry! <\/span><\/em><\/p>\n Loved its sense of motion and perspective! <\/span><\/em><\/p>\n Haunting, I feel like it echoes <\/span><\/em><\/p>\n It makes me yearn for feelings I haven’t experienced yet.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Maybe it was the sense of speed, the need to leave it all behind and yet remain ‘weirdly still in the centre’, but Christian Wethered’s ‘Blade’ raced home to be Ink Sweat & Tears’ Pick of the Month for November 2016. ‘Blade’ is one of IS&T’s entries for the 2017 Forward Prizes For Poetry […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[135,4,141],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12873","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2016-poetry-picks","category-news","category-prizes-and-awards"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12873","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\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12873"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12873\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23842,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12873\/revisions\/23842"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12873"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12873"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12873"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nyou put your foot down and we flew, the screen
\nand mirrors all enveloping, sucking and flapping
\nthe horizons in its corners, and then just for a few
\nminutes we were the vanishing point as desert stretched
\nand bended and we were weirdly still in the centre,
\nthe constant motion and suspense, the sheer possibility
\nof it all in a perfect cycle, our wheels spinning still<\/p>\n