by Helen Ivory | Aug 6, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Daughters of Rain after Mijoda Dajomi’s Rain-harvesting Hats All summer the sun scorched the city and the sky held back its tears. Yesterday, in East London, a wildfire devoured nineteen homes, while the capital’s parks burnt to dust. Adrift in...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 5, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
28th April 2015 The night before, I paced London’s streets sparkling and fizzing with ideas the pills used to dull and destroy. I felt awake, alive. Thoughts popped like fireworks, I couldn’t sleep for flashes and Bang! I solved a Pure Maths...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 4, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Blodeuwedd ensorcelled by Gwydion And so I went into the owl. Eyes, green as moss, darken to black. Oak tassels spell-woven to feathers. A blossom-soft body wrath-scorches to brown. Broom flowers harden to bone, curve into beak, curl into talons....
by Helen Ivory | Aug 3, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Portrait You notice the nose: webbed veins spritzed with little flicks of red, purple blotches daubed with a palette-knife, broken ends where blood-vessels gave up the ghost. You see the waistcoat bristling Harris Tweed, the label peeking out just...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 2, 2026 | Featured, Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga, Poetry
Still Life of Fish and Bird One day a fish swam away and the river ran dry, and the lone bird, sitting in a tree, flew off and took the whole sky with it. Jason Ryberg lives part-time in Kansas City, MO with a rooster named Little Red and a...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 1, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
First Funeral Fascinated by the priest’s teeth I don’t realise I’m kicking the pew in front with a restless foot until someone taps me sharply on the knee. I’m near the coffin on its trestles and a plaster Jesus whose wounds shed drops of hard...
