by Helen Ivory | May 9, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
How to master the air walk dance craze My mother died seven years ago, but last night she had a message for me. The mechanics are irrelevant, what she gave stays with me: the word: dancing. It makes sense, I always pictured her released back into...
by Helen Ivory | May 8, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Rosary peas Girls under the tree, one with hands clasped as in worship, the others picking the scarlet fallen seeds, so they could string them, those necklace beads. They’ve played this game since sun-up, and even now, all through this windswept...
by Helen Ivory | May 7, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Outsider What is the ancient curse they know that you don’t Moving along their mouth-lines and their eyebrows Lowering their lids, tensing their nods or shrugs No spell has locked their lips but they are silent Watching you try, watching you fall...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | May 6, 2026 | Word & Image
home poem 2 hi mum im good mum how are you good good yeah im okay yes im fine you yes I wrote my essay I got a first I want to go home 1000 pounds yes of flesh dry cracked sticking out in the winter yes I got the coat from sports...
by Helen Ivory | May 6, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Short-lived After his baby son died he strapped a tumble dryer to his back and ran the roads around the village. Stocky, shaved head, blue shorts and vest, white socks in black Nike trainers. Transformed into Tumble Dryer Man he raised thousands...
