by Helen Ivory | May 5, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
For Maeve Dear Maeve This poem is not about you, it is about another Maeve; this you must understand before we can proceed and it is likely that Maeve herself will not like this so we must be careful what we say. I know you, Maeve, will think this...
by Helen Ivory | May 4, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Vegetable Cart Hot summer afternoon, every closed window in that high rise saying SHUT UP to the hawker, with his vegetable cart Nikhil Nath has been writing poetry for eighteen years. He has been published in various magazine in India, the USA...
by Helen Ivory | May 3, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
And as I wait I tremble These plates are floating, though I know They shouldn’t be. The buildings lean in, lowering Over the street. Cobbles rush their ancient patterns. Windows are eyes, but Lashless. Their cords rattle And the dancing...
by Helen Ivory | May 2, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Joseph Brodsky’s dog is on a quest Joseph Brodsky’s dog is on a quest. He snuffles past neglected plots and crypts, dog-sniffs every monument, thrusts his nose into a mouldering layer-cake of earth and stone, that maddening hint of bone below....
by Helen Ivory | May 1, 2015 | 2015 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
Noir The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here. Italo Calvino. ‘Invisible Cities’. The proof is in the text. He manipulates keys. They hold plastic close, electronic skipping....
by Helen Ivory | Apr 30, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Call (After Vera Pavlova) Often, the phone in the corner starts crying and I come running to calm it. It’s my mother, again, calling to tell me of the problem with today. She’s the only person in my life, to have studied my ear, as a baby, quiet...
