by Helen Ivory | Feb 26, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Damp The damp that squats in gritstone hearts of two-bed terraces. The stumble of rooftops polished dark as funeral brogues. The promiscuity of green, having its way with every crack and hole, every startled moss that punks from rock and stump....
by Helen Ivory | Feb 25, 2017 | Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga
is, was, will be There was a man who used to stand at that corner in Hyde Park, when the speakers weren’t proselytising. He’d hang around for hours, occasionally clearing his throat. I only heard him speak the once, when he asked me the time. At...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 24, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Patience Here, the cat is a rosebud on the corner of the bed. Here, I lie still, swallowing air, as the sun paints squares on the walls around me. Here, I dream only of trees; there is wallpaper pasted on the wets of my eye lids. Here, the earth...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 23, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The Absence of Birds The leaves rustle releasing a surprised sparrow, thrushes answer one another, the red kite static above my head, I trace the magpie’s undulating flight and hear rooks call from distant trees. Then silence. I think about the absence of...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 22, 2017 | Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga
* The octopus flashed Calm blue and brown, teasing me Like a fan dancer. * Pulse pounding, sweating, I dig in my pocket for The engagement ring. * The ruffian wind Elbows through dogwoods leaving Drifts of white petals * The singer wails out Para bailar...
