by Helen Ivory | Aug 20, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
sclerenchyma mornings I wake wary of abundance wondering why I’m still here and then I recall all the green leaves with their hiding birds and the slow triumph of ripening pods here lily stalks move like living things for this is what they are...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 19, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Longing golden shovel after Czesław Miłosz I’m trying to stop thinking about what I want to not // be. Sometimes I have looked into my heart and found that // everything’s packed up. The space so unassuming that I // catch myself thinking, where...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 18, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
I want to be two-tongued again To go back to the time when I slipped from one language to another with ease, when I knew the contours of my Irish home. To stand with Dad by the window, chat in the room of our own tongue about my day, my dreams. I...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 17, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Revisited Trees after Harold Monro from Trees: lingering their period of decay in transitory forms. I One summer afternoon, you find yourself needing respite from the light and glossy sepia, from sweat and the rosacea. You retreat back to your...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 16, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Lightbulb Moment only now is it apparent how dishonouring a body is a crime why did this not imprint light up in me before that when in films lynching desecration has a price gives...
