by Helen Ivory | Nov 18, 2019 | 2019 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
The Hidden Once they were hidden Forest covered the fear Drowned out the silence… Darkness stood on the way home The clock of the heart was beating in seconds Dash up there quickly, spread the arms Hair will fall down gently
Hidden from...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 17, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Nightjar I want to be a Nightjar where language is colour where my ways of being cryptic and crepuscular are accepted like stars in night skies. I wish I was a Nightjar could spend my days hidden in your scrubland, wait for light to dim, so that...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 16, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Moon daisies Do you know about the daisies that only open in moonlight? Have you seen the attic full of sadness and when the tallest of us fall? And then the questions to which we answer I’ve no idea what you’re talking about or I’m only here cos...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 15, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Cracked When people say your skull cracks like an egg, it doesn’t. Not the Humpty Dumpty fragmentation – compared to that, it’s unspectacular. A sound like a dropped watermelon, the fall, the slightly meaty thud. A possible loss of consciousness,...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 14, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
I cradle my grief I cradle my grief sing it lullabies keen with it roar with it hide it write it speak it sing it It keeps coming back
in waves each time rising each time deeper until I wail for each leafless branch each leech each death each...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 13, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Afterwards That very last night at my parents’ house it was as though a blackbird waited on the fence and, watching, saw my tears, flew down, pecked into the crack, opening, its sharp yellow beak homing straight to the heart. It drew blood, pulled...
