by Helen Ivory | Aug 28, 2018 | 2018 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
For Dad After ‘The Lark Ascending’ by Vaughan Williams When we walk down to the canal, through the industrial estate with its units of noise and smell, past the field, so green I swear I can see every blade needling its way through the alert...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 27, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
The Morning They Shot Anavere Was a morning like any other dreams were not any thicker the sun didn’t shine or unshine, it was the same sun we always knew, the same sun Blinding the day a yellow disc a sting in the sky the night was the...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 26, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Toast I’ve always been an observer. Like the moon watched the sun shine across the earth basking in its beauty and everything that gets to feel its gentle kiss. I observed the buds blooming on our lilac tree in the front yard and as I smelled them,...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 25, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
12 ways to show (not tell) someone you love them Silence is often misunderstood for indecision. When I tell you this, you ask me to show don’t tell. And I’m not sure what to do. Love is a supply of oxygen, a water source,...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 24, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Denial I don’t take the doctor seriously when she says it. On the sofa at home I tell my partner: “Only skinny people have eating disorders.” “What about the people are who are eating themselves to death?” “They’re different,” I say, before...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 23, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Contraflow Asleep under a ceiling of bird wings. Some distance off, gaps in the clattering of gulls. A lick of salt in the mouth of the river. On a chair in the corner a medium and her cornflour ectoplasm stretches slick globs in the alarm clock’s...
