by Helen Ivory | May 3, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
At the Royal Ontario Museum Four hundred pounds of rose pink muscle, the dead heft of a whale’s heart, a mass worthy of Rubens, worthy of Moore. Visitors lean in to feel the quiver of sea, pinned and plinthed under glass, the thought of Arctic...
by Helen Ivory | May 2, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Turned Injun I Turned Injun, didn’t yeh. Riders whoop across the screen, red skinned, paint, and painted Paints. And the boy’s jolted by her cheers – outlaw to his young years, music to such green ears: Auntie Val’s rooting for the baddies. More...
by Helen Ivory | May 1, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
beltane (may day poems, glastonbury 2019) pale- moon sun: slow, heavy drops on the site of arthur’s tomb (his queen in small print!) – a quarter of a millennium, the...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 30, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
The Farmer’s Prayer He lies across the cow’s prone side and prays for healing. Smooths her flank, half-expecting some bright heat, a glowing surge to match his prayer, a vision of angels, a chorus of song. Beside them lies her calf, warm and...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 29, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Faceless extinctions A moth arrives like a small hand passing over my face and when I open my eyes a heartbeat thuds against my bedside shade. Leave your window ajar and your lamp lit – why, that’s an invitation, says he. White ermine, little...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 28, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Under Fire The job I needed. The job that contempted me. The job on a Loyalist housing estate in a blank end-terrace house, a crime scene smeared clean. The house impossible to hearten or heat. The job that started each day with lighting a fire...
