by Helen Ivory | May 31, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Return Journey So here we are, dozing on a train which flounders along, travelling towards a place we call home. We know the tide will have turned before we reach our destination. The carriage shimmers as it passes over these tiny, necessary gaps between...
by Helen Ivory | May 30, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Reading Sean O’Brien in the Bath On the first floor of an ex-council house this fat, pink alkie reads O’Brien in the bath. At his shoulder the pint glass of cider mocks his sweating face. The cold tap drips – he lifts his eyes from the...
by Helen Ivory | May 29, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Hanging the Mirror I was thinking that maybe this wasn’t the way: then you arrived, perfectly-equipped – inflated hammer and rubber nails – City and Guilds poking from the side-pocket of your overalls. Like a safe-cracker you tapped...
by Helen Ivory | May 28, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Easter 2013 …and off we went to Burnham-on-Sea, creeping into the first gaze of the new icy sun. Oh! I held your hand and kissed your lips through supermarket sandwiches. Our newborn skin screamed against the minty sky; blue raincoats...
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...
