by Helen Ivory | Jan 11, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Sonnet But first the sun has to break in two, that primary streamline naturally forgotten flat place, (that was the first one) we walked together together together all day and night until there was no day only a bird on the brink of land and sky...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 10, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Pearl Osten worked until after midnight, Oct. 2, 1927, in an Eighth street tea room, where she eked out a wage which helped to pay for her schooling. She took a street car to the home of relatives with whom she was staying … There the trail...
by Fathima Zahra | Jan 9, 2025 | Filmpoems
Splice Asemic Triptych Asemic (adjective): using lines and symbols that look like writing, but do not have any meaning. Katie Beswick is a writer from south east London. Recent poems appear in Rattle, Dust Poetry Magazine, The Waxed Lemon and The Haibun Journal. Her...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 9, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
A Farmer’s Son Watches Galaxies Turn, Groes Bach Spring 1833 – mists folding their sheets in the fields. Isaac Roberts feels the turned earth, his father’s farm an island in the hurtling Milky Way – splashes of cream across the churning ocean...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 8, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Baldwin St, mid-November Wet tarmac blinks red and gold, names shine outside the Gaumont. Stop dreaming, you’ll get lost. I trot to keep up, past the chip shop, past a big man bellowing Mind out! as he shifts a stack of crates, past Carwardine’s...
