by Helen Ivory | Jan 14, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
The Last Carthusian The large metal bell with which I call myself to prayer is wanted by a museum. I sing in an affected accent the responses to the psalms but the jackdaws which laugh at me from the roof are not fooled. In a refectory which is...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 13, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Heartland I am growing grass inside my ribs; fluted blades twisting their leading edge in meadows of flesh. There are fields of this. Where the lark has left, the wind gusts through – I have become its hollow short-cut and you are corridors...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 12, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Realisation about a friend slowly and deliberately you draw information out of me the way my son eats a strawberry holding firmly onto the green stem sucking it down to the pulp Alexandra Corrin-Tachibana lived in Japan for 10...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 11, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Egg Inside, it’s containment: a smooth shell curving away into itself, taut around a thin membrane which closes on its viscous, one-celled strength; and it’s a silent circling of mass, unused to air, unexposed to the risk of strange heats, to the...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 10, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Feasting She brought thoughts, words rather than grapes, slipped out among laundered clothes. Little offerings best but today he wanted more and she couldn’t deny him. Her tongue spilled stories he devoured, egged her on until the cough again,...
