Today’s choice

Previous poems

David Bernard

by | Aug 9, 2026 | ,

 

 

 

Bison

I wrote the title of the lesson on the board and underlined it with a flourish. The class listened to my introduction. I could see that even Rachel’s eyes were waiting for what I would say next. I felt calm. The pile of marking on the desk in the office didn’t matter. The lesson was on algebraic substitution and I can’t even remember what I said but I made a joke about bison. That day it felt right to let it fly. There was a lot of bison talk before the class settled down and started working through some problems. As she left the lesson, Rachel drew a bison on the board. It looked like it was dancing.

 

 

David Bernard is a poet based in Ledbury. His work has been published by London Grip, Wildfire Words and elsewhere. He lives with his partner and two young children.

Colin Pink

by | Aug 7, 2026 | ,

I used to ‘see’ you when you were alive,
I mean when you weren’t there. I carry you
around like a photo in a wallet.

Roz Doe

by | Aug 5, 2026 | ,

The night before,
I paced London’s streets
sparkling and fizzing with ideas
the pills used to dull and destroy.
I felt awake, alive.

Nairn Kennedy

by | Aug 3, 2026 | ,

You notice the nose: webbed veins spritzed
with little flicks of red, purple blotches
daubed with a palette-knife, broken ends
where blood-vessels gave up the ghost.

Mark McDonnell

by | Aug 1, 2026 | ,

Fascinated by the priest’s teeth I don’t realise
I’m kicking the pew in front with a restless foot
until someone taps me sharply on the knee.