by Helen Ivory | Sep 20, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Fishing Line Above the bridge the crescent moon hangs, thin as a nail paring. Rose tints the east, the stars are fading and the morning call to prayer pricks my conscience. Ignoring the pain in his eighty year old knees my father will be...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 19, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Jigsaw Piece I stride to the tarn just after noon, sky grey as a heron’s back. My feet squelch cotton grass; a peewit carries in the air. Smell of bracken leaves a tang on the roof of my mouth. On the tarn I view...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 18, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
New Market At New Market a crow has slipped in through the broken high window pane and sits on a heap of beef wondering if this is the last supper. Nikhil Nath has been writing poetry for eighteen years. He has been published...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 17, 2015 | 2015 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Barnacle Geese She sat all day outside the poultry tent behind a bric-a-brac table and sunglasses. She didn’t notice, no, she didn’t care about the sunburn on her shoulders. She quite liked the pain, something pink and...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 16, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
High Town Crow with eyes as cold as memorial stone, never missing any sadness, regret, capturing my every ex-lover’s name under your cape of wing. You perch on boarding house roofs or swagger along my mantelpiece, waiting,...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 15, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Iraq Gnaws at my Heart and Laughs I am blind I am mute My screams scuttle to their holes My thoughts are in the hands of brick-layers In the slums of Baghdad My breath is in London Sold by Oxfam for a penny In a city ghetto I was my...
