by Helen Ivory | Nov 17, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Light Bearer I’ll leave Fear by the door, you say as you step in. You’re bone-weary, broken, borne down by the weight you bring. Shadows shrink from you. Is it time? I ask, for I know you after all. Only for tea, you say. I breathe, then please,...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 16, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The proof of being able to cook It’s happening again. I can feel fat settling around my hips, adipose in my bones my scars stretching. I don’t want it to set up home. It’s as welcome as a part-live frog cat-left on a door mat that thrashes and gulps its skin...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 15, 2017 | Reviews
“I consider poetry my existence”— it is indeed a revelation on the part of a poet who has coined chiseled words from the depths of his heart to present this poetic trilogy, Dreams of the Sacred and Ephemeral, a genre quite unique in literature. The book takes...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 14, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Snipe Her wet eyes were green as fenland water. The twelfth day of August and she could hide alongside you in her crypsis of hair until it seemed that you might step on her – then she’d be gone in a clatter of pans, a flap of arms, a...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 13, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Rare Humiliated behind glass black, point nosed Beluga Sturgeon, float on a terrace. After the seminar astronomers eat salad, watch stars flick on. I too am interested in the Universe but cannot see past the cook picking up a glove as grills glow red in...
