by Helen Ivory | Mar 18, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Olympics I devoured the Olympics, filled my mouth and scrapbook with sticky ephemera. I stalked a torch, seized my shining, perforated prey, and stared into the void of Wenlock and Mandeville’s eyes. Sometimes, I am in the Olympics. I crawl from...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 17, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Craftsmanship beneath night’s skin he unearths raw stones serrated encrusted enigmatic cold tumbling them in two-twenty grit wears away the dull four hundred six hundred highlights the delicate garnet’s exposed seam agate’s...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 16, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Morning Outing with Mum we are at a cafe just round the corner from hampstead heath & sipping berry sunrise smoothies out of soggy paper straws we are watching tangles of cockapoos too many north...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 15, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Old Master Goya was an octopus that smelt of funerals on Mondays. Sundays, the scent of getting ready. Goya liked to swim with sensory stimulus. He would splash about his palette. Goya made two circles on a first encounter. His grip was firm, a...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 14, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Herb of the Sun The pain comes plucked from a field in garlands of sunlight. So many women weave aches into strings of marigolds, with bent backs from children, livelihoods of pouring orange petals, scents of sweet incense and the sunlight is...
