by Helen Ivory | May 27, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Slievemore, Deserted Village, Achill, 2011 It is not a silence but a removal of words to be amongst those places that have been left. The slabs and stones and roofless. The ever doorways. There is light like the movement of water...
by Helen Ivory | May 26, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Peacock: The Death of the Princess A Matriarchal Tale from Transylvania Once upon a time, the sultan’s lonely daughter watched the royal peacock rise up from the seashore, soaring past her window to settle in the courtyard, a sombre...
by Helen Ivory | May 25, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
December: Dusk The tide is out. Sandbanks bar our way, the channel too shallow now for us to leave before the water returns. We are safe from any sea-storm anchored here behind the saltmarsh. Glistening mud outlines the little pool where we lie,...
by Helen Ivory | May 24, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Valentine Today I was writing on the train, embarrassed, ergo I kept adding bracketed references (St Pancras, 2013) And arrows to my caesurae and crossings-out. I scrawled ‘to-do list’ and then below Bullet-pointed all the things...
by Helen Ivory | May 23, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Too Much Sky We trudge through air like setting cement, each boot-print a muddy hallmark to the silk screen of leaves at our feet. The river drives out straight from these few trees, channelling across a landscape unwilling to rise above itself. I must...
