{"id":3922,"date":"2013-01-21T09:00:28","date_gmt":"2013-01-21T09:00:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=3922"},"modified":"2013-01-06T15:47:16","modified_gmt":"2013-01-06T15:47:16","slug":"david-coldwell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/david-coldwell\/","title":{"rendered":"David Coldwell"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Threadbare<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>This blanket that I took from you<br \/>\nat six, you never forgave me.<br \/>\nA christened gift that you wrapped<br \/>\nyour dolls in and sniffed, sleeping,<br \/>\ndreaming, breathing deeply.<\/p>\n<p>White threads like a net remind me<br \/>\nof the blanket, bloodstained and wet<br \/>\nthat they wrapped his body in<br \/>\nafter throwing him against the wall,<br \/>\nthe papers said. The one his mother threw out<\/p>\n<p>with soured milk and bedding whilst<br \/>\nthe neighbour\u2019s television blared out.<br \/>\nThe one I found in the rain, in a skip<br \/>\nmarked no fires that should have had<br \/>\na light on, but didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n<p><em>And we stood on guard for days,<br \/>\nlistening to all the neighbours,<br \/>\nand once the circus <a href=\"http:\/\/www.ourhealthissues.com\">ourhealthissues.com<\/a> left for good<br \/>\nwe relocated all the flowers.<br \/>\n<\/em><br \/>\nAnd you sulked at me for days<br \/>\nwith your lip out, not speaking, until<br \/>\nI cracked and gave in, unravelling the bag<br \/>\nthat you\u2019d found hidden; my secret,<br \/>\nfilled with all the evidence.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>David Coldwell<\/strong> lives and works in the village of Marsden on the edge of the Pennines in West Yorkshire. Once a script writer for corporate clients, David now works in public services and, as well as writing and performing poetry, David is also an accomplished artist exhibiting landscape paintings throughout a number of galleries.<br \/>\n&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; Threadbare This blanket that I took from you at six, you never forgave me. A christened gift that you wrapped your dolls in and sniffed, sleeping, dreaming, breathing deeply. White threads like a net remind me of the blanket, bloodstained and wet that they wrapped his body in after throwing him against the wall, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"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-3922","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3922","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\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3922"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3922\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3924,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3922\/revisions\/3924"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3922"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3922"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3922"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}