by Helen Ivory | Feb 12, 2026 | Featured, Prose
Loop Dr Summers presses the ignition and the machine whirs to life. Its enveloping metal arches bristle with electricity around him, humming with a new energy that has the platform beneath his feet trembling. The fluorescent lights of his...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 11, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Sea Lily after Alison McWhirter Everything is moving. I have to remind myself it’s a flat canvas and behind it a wall that’s solid as I am. Although three quarters of my heart, and one third of my bones, are water. Which explains a lot. Appearance...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 10, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Anorexia Nervosa A vixen or a reason. A rave. No air, no sex, nor ovaries. An axe. A raven axe? O! No, sir! Arson, via an ex. Ore. A ravine. A rose. Nox. Melanie Branton is a spoken word artist from Redfield in Bristol with three...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 9, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Repeat On a bench outside Next, a punctured woman traces circles in the air with a pale finger while her thoughts leak out in a rill of mutterings. Nobody sees her in the busy emptiness of lunchtime. Inside my pocket two small shells – they are...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 8, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Father He is sulphur, he is fire and brimstone, he is deep shame, the colour of night, sound of slamming doors. He is bitterest regrets, dark chocolate, olives and kale, The Telegraph and Magritte’s pipe, the treachery of images. Moments...
