WHEN poet Stephen Santus saw his poem In a Restaurant come third in the Bridport Prize competition in 2012 he went away with a smile on his face and thought no more of it.

That was until three months ago when another prestigious poetry competition emailed him to tell him the same poem had been anonymously entered on his behalf.

The 66-year-old from Jericho will travel to the Forward Prize for Poetry’s finalist ceremony in London today hoping a panel of judges which includes Jeremy Paxman will crown his poem winner of the Best Single Poem category.

Mr Santus said: “I didn’t enter the poem for Forward but someone liked it and they entered it.

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“I got an email out of the blue to say I had been nominated.

“It just goes to show if you put a poem to different judges you can get a different result.

“The poem is about the gestures you make when you ask for the bill in a restaurant.

“I picked up a gesture years ago from a friend who learned it from his father.

“I doubt many people remember my friend’s father, so the poem is about how we live on through things we do not expect.”

Mr Santus, who teaches English as a foreign language at Oxford Intensive School of English, has been writing poetry since he was 17.

He said: “My brother was eight years older than me and he loved poetry and used to read it aloud. I loved the sound.

“I am a big fan of William Wordsworth and T.S. Eliot obviously and Philip Larkin.

“I think a lot of people write poetry but are very secretive about it.

“I have always regarded poetry as a way of expressing myself.”

The Forward Prize is awarded by the Forward Arts Foundation, which was founded in 1991 and aims to inspire a love of poetry in everyone and support poets at all stages of their careers.

Mr Santus said he was hopeful of picking up first place and a cheque for £1,000 when the winners are announced at Queen Elizabeth Hall in London’s South Bank.

He said: “I have a one in five chance of winning and I don’t think Jeremy Paxman will judge me too harshly. He might ask me if a I have a ‘poetic licence’ but I’m looking forward to it anyway.”

IN A RESTAURANT

THE poem by Stephen Santus:
This gesture I make to ask for the bill,
Writing on the air
With an imaginary ballpoint,
I learnt from Christopher,
Who learnt it from his father,
Who learnt it himself somewhere.
Christopher’s father is long dead:
He echoes less and less.
How strange that what survives of us
Is what we would hardly guess.

 


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