by Helen Ivory | Oct 10, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Bread Explore the way it rises from nothing, what this teaches about dignity. On the table of furrowed wood, knives coaxing butter out of sleep. I wonder how my father thinks, crumbs drying over his mouth so he never requires more than what...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 7, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
This is exactly what I want This is exactly what I want: (though I didn’t know it) 5 inches of silence the recluse’s delicacy a softing down cold and geometry fretworking into a slow lattice an excuse for feeling the creak of earth beneath you hydrangea heads...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 5, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
The Magnificat of Tears Your tears wash away damaging matter. They’re ocean compared to moist towelette, a swim in the sea rather than paddling; intensifiers of experience. Focus is not distracted through their lens, each drop’s centre is a swelling...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 4, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Mermaids “I have heard the mermaids singing each to each, I do not think they will sing to me.” – T.S. Elliot, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock I used to work with mermaids, a long time ago In a forgotten city which continuously burst...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 3, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Umbrellas ‘People who carry an umbrella can never…understand the moral significance of war.’ Mussolini This is you holding it out to catch the rain, as I run with a streaked, flooded face. This is you standing still and watching the water,...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 2, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Llanbwchllyn Lake White and yellow water-lilies framing sky upon its surface; sun and moon fragmented, swept off to the edges. Above in the heather a cluster of wild horses flash their tails at flies in the flattening heat. A bird of prey circles,...
