by Helen Ivory | Jul 4, 2024 | Featured, Prose
Domesticated Animals I pat its head until its face starts to flatten. Its body meets the floor, legs buckle under the weight of my enthusiasm, then groans out a kind of exhaling sound and attempts to inch itself away. ‘Don’t go,’ I tell it and...
by Kate Birch | Jul 3, 2024 | Filmpoems
Chipko Saving the trees We came to the tree with open arms in hope, with a feel for rain, we left the forest’s endless charms and the lost words, and the new alarms for the great tree’s growing pains. We knew the wind and we knew the earth and the...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 3, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Slow walk / in bits Where can we go on holidays this year,and when will we get a house if you’re away for two years,and now you’re crying,and it’s £4 to park for the day here,and it was dry when we started now we’re...
by Kate Birch | Jul 2, 2024 | Word & Image
The Days of Our Girls I can’t look at you or make my peace with you now but you are the sun casting a shadow of me across the days of our girls Jonathan Edis is a dad, lecturer & osteopath in London. He’s in several poetry groups & a rep...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 2, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
How many handfuls of mush today? On a good day it’s 13, on a bad day it’s more like 79. Shall we build you out of cardboard? Shall we build you out of tin cans? Maybe tin cans would be more durable. Last time the cardboard got wet. You are no less...
