by Helen Ivory | May 18, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Birthday Boyo No sunshine, but plenty of coal to cosy up our terrace. Gran smothers extra toast with raspberry jam, and I’m drawing Caerphilly castle. I climbed that spiral stair today to the office. I was grassed up. Dapper Jones made me...
by Helen Ivory | May 17, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
The Gap The space between unrelated things like our ears and the top of the humorous as a measure of strength a simple gap of air that stops a wheel rolling back on top of you the wider ...
by Helen Ivory | May 16, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Martyr We’d starve sooner than eat with you, or drink; we’d vomit up, spit out, the bribes you bring and will not slake our thirst or break this fast. The stars, more sensitive than us, will blink; we strain our foolish ears to hear them sing,...
by Helen Ivory | May 15, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
out for a walk first come the trees their frames different in every season today the blinding brightness of new green cutting through the grim skies then come the houses and their doors a purple one a turquoise among the...
by Helen Ivory | May 14, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Sea Bed I cannot sleep. Tonight, the invisible crabs are pinching my nightdress, pouring sand into the folds of the cloth. I can not sleep, they say tonight, there are too many fish in the ocean. They are insisting, clicking and pinching,...
