by Helen Ivory | Nov 2, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Watching the woodpecker at 5.30 am He appears like a paper bag blown onto the feeder, punching his beak time and again into the peanuts. The minute he sees me he’s off in bouncing flight. Today, it’s early, and I’m sipping tea in the kitchen. He...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 1, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Pleasing the pwca If you follow faerie lights that wisp where boardwalk becomes trackway, make sure you’re stocked with milk, or bread and salt. Simple gifts to please the pwca. And if you live to tell, you will have been lead through the safe...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 21, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Hair Cut (Everything You Know About Me I Grew Myself) You stand behind me / catch my eye / take the snatch of silver / to this softness of hair / and steal me strand by strand. / How did I get to a stage where / a stranger could coax me / with a...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 20, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Frida’s corset after the accident the plaster held her still pasted her straight She reached out her arms for brushes with colour plumed birds and sickles streetcars to live inside with a knife she carved a skylight for her heart ...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 19, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Clinical Waste For Bev At boarding school, I had no idea what to do with myself. Most of the time, I hid myself in a paper bag, under my bed, amongst my wash things, beneath my towel and a clean nightie. There were no bins provided and we were given...
