by Helen Ivory | Mar 3, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Seacoalers. Lynemouth. 1985. A novel harvest of the seashore (Caught By The Camera. No. 27. 1935) Around the hooves of the blinkered horse the sea recedes with a zishhhhhhhhhhh. The cart stands axle deep in seething water. The blade emerges...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 2, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Remember Nirvana? Nevermind The child resurfaces. The morning has no colour yet. Some smoke signals sketch a message of constant and calm distress. A neighbour see the child first. It toddles, skids and falls on the dew wet street. The child...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 1, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Grieg, the Pianist and the Listener Troldhaugen, Norway Her fingers lightly assertive, she searches out meaning, concealed on the stave, feeling his music’s contours, the way a breeze explores the scribbled score of a rock-strewn escarpment, a...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 18, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Ambresbury Banks Early March, after weeks of rain: between a young oak’s leggy roots, a cushion of dun, desiccated leaves. Shadows of other trees all point towards me like the black lances in Uccello’s Battle of San Romano. I sip hot coffee from...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 17, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Burglaries You have been burgled. While you were out with the dog, a burglar made best use of that yawning kitchen keyhole to spook through tracelessly. They were a ghost, floating through your house, with all the time in the world to inventory...
