by Helen Ivory | Feb 9, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
From under the wardrobe the naked bulb on the ceiling is an oddly lit glass balloon, bobbing riskily upside down in the winter sky. There’s an unfriendly quality in my shoulder; I’m packed like a fugitive’s suitcase, roughly. Buried under hanged clothes...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 8, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Looking Upwards These stones overhead, comets juggling omens… What’s the distance between nothing and no other thing? We eye the sky thinking of a science to replace it with. Has anybody flown to holiness from a language? To bliss from...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 7, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
what will you do now you’re alone in the sun ask your shadow to leave you for a while send your shadow to market where it can frighten chickens, the women selling red powder let your shadow enter the forest of tall trees stroke the snouts of grunting...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 6, 2021 | Featured, News, Poetry
Please join us on zoom for live readings from Annie Freud, Jane Burn and Anja Konig on Sunday 7th February at 4pm GMT This is part of our monthly ‘Live from the Butchery’ series, hosted by Helen Ivory and Martin Figura from their home (an old CoOp...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 5, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
How To Write A Poem First, forget the moon. Forget your lover. I want you blind to weather. Stars. All kinds of water. Start with I, with you. With what you know. No reimaginings. No Salomes with milky thighs, serrated knives. No penitent Medusas....
by Helen Ivory | Feb 4, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Did Philippe Petit come to Heptonstall? At the top of the mill chimney some hundred feet above the stream, level with my eyes and my open mouth is a man in a leotard. It is purple, gleaming neon against lichen on stones to which he clings, brighter even than...
