by Helen Ivory | Apr 1, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Tabula Rasa Rectangular, with corners cut off like an octagon, muddy brown shows through the cream exterior where the edges are chipped. Just the right height for a young child learning to stand. Coloured beakers stacked up ready to be knocked...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 31, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
How many blows does it take to crack an egg? How many blows does it take to crack an egg? Is a question I never expected to ask If you don’t know, I should tell you, an egg Is what they call the girl inside the male mask When she doesn’t even know...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 20, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
wild cows Those full udders will slowly burst spitting milk onto the grass strands. Will roll down to feed the roots below. Then the weeds will follow. Weeds will grow next spring. Weeds will unfold as bulbous udders without holes – un-milked –...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 19, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Killing Time at the cider farm, eight minutes before handover, we strike on feeding the donkeys – and sprint towards the orchard, only realising in the 5:23 dusk that this is winter, the boughs fruitless, donkeys stabled – that beside ourselves...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 18, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Thorny (One Sided Conversations No4) after seeing Akram Khan’s Giselle 18 Jan 2026 to embrace you is like clasping a fist full of briars if your mouth was an envelope I’d lick it shut you can push all you like against the wall between the living...
