by Helen Ivory | Dec 24, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Mothers know the mercurial properties of time Frail baby bird in your incubator, arms bent like wings, unfledged and translucent, your face foreshadows old age, as if time must run backwards for you to catch up. Suspended, we hold our breath, look...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 23, 2012 | Reviews
INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION Our western image of Chinese industrialisation, and the boom in the country’s economy since the most extreme rigidities of communism began to relax in the 1970s, is Dickensian. When...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 22, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Death and sunflowers. A tattoo of sunflowers around a baby’s face brings up thoughts of godlessness and anarchy from my stomach as each day wished away remains unformatted a broken line of roots a tree branch a stand-alone synapse gradually diminishing reaching...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 21, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Wanting Out The rare sunshine of a stormy summer. Greta, Gwenda, leave their checkouts, slink from their supervisors, for a tea break fag. By the pathway’s bench, they watch a cat in sun. Basking, she’s found a cardboard carton, 16 by 4-ounce packs,...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 20, 2012 | Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga
Haiku The sun’s a God’s button. Perhaps at some point He’ll come back to pick it up. * * * March. Birds are singing. I too would like to sit beside them and I’d sing But I’m afraid the branch would break. * * * At midnight when I left, it rained....
