by Helen Ivory | Jan 21, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Clifford’s Tower for the Jews of York Have we forgotten the astringent voice of Silkin, on frigid conscience stupefied? Its queue-badgering ghost must shake the iron-ribbed ceiling of Leeds train station, the student dives, places words...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 20, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Aquarius, letting go on the surface, sea melts the horizon. light blinding as grief – the mind blanks at the glare. this is the inbetween place. the space between sky and base. a bottle afloat, bereft of miniature vessel. the ship long adrift, sunken and...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 19, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The word comes back It is a quite simple thing to be told. laid on the breakfast table, over chequered cloth: a name. the named thing – it began itself when no one was looking. divided itself while we walked along the streets of the town washed...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 18, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Even God is Lonely Every Buddhist temple has a room for rebirth. Marked by sharp chiascuro Ely squatted at the angle where wall met the floor, at the penumbra of the light and shadow. Inside a charnel house of memory he floated on borrowed spirit,...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 17, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Present in Scent In the evening darkness You tap recent grace notes. Singing moments more clearly Than the instant of a bulb. Coffee smooth as an unguent Heralds near satisfactions. The air dilutes her presence Until a key click blooms with...
