by Helen Ivory | Feb 27, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Dinner in the Fields I remember you arriving to the fields when we saved the hay, bringing the sweet taste of dinners, encased in Tupperware, sitting sheltered under haycocks, in the warm sun. We rested our young bodies from sweating our work,...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 26, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Pied Piper Your voice echoes through my body rumbling into veins and curves. Turns me into wood; stiff and tied to your tongue – your lungs – your vibrating throat – every hum is a drum beating me into your shadow, copying every...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 25, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Firewood They tell us that we are grown from the same soil our hands will all bleed in the right place a hidden resonance behind wry smiles placed inside dormitories and suitcases. If we are from the same soil and root why is one hand much older...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 24, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Open Love Letter I’m ready for love now, now that I’m falling apart, now that it’s hard to find a centre where resistance can collect. I’m ready for love now, now that the handful who loved me have gone; more ready than...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 23, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Magpie Lawn There they are the two magpie brothers strutting their message across the lawn. Inside she watched from the high wide window halfway up the stairs. Halfway. Standing on the stairs. Watching as the magpies spread their lonely black...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 22, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Well Chilled Yesterday I spent the afternoon with Vladimir Putin. He was in a good mood and kept giving me more beer; he personally attended the barbecue, serving up chicken wings and he laughed and joked with everyone, including me. You could...
