by Helen Ivory | Mar 31, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
How many blows does it take to crack an egg? How many blows does it take to crack an egg? Is a question I never expected to ask If you don’t know, I should tell you, an egg Is what they call the girl inside the male mask When she doesn’t even know...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | Mar 30, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Summoning “Pink is the navy blue of India.” Diana Vreeland The hue of brides, appliquéd dark with henna. Citron’s acid curl, vernal blades between teeth. Beneath a virginal sky, weren’t we confections? Pistachio and rosewater, saffron and...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | Mar 29, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
SURREAL SHEEP I sell the postcard of multi-coloured sheep over and over again. “Done on a computer I suppose” says a lady as she hands over forty pence. “Yes, I expect so” I say. I’ve only seen white, black and brown sheep, earth coloured in the...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | Mar 28, 2026 | Featured, Prose
Unmedicated We were happy people once. Not naïve, just animated, social, alive. We gathered constantly. We danced at weddings, at birthdays, at no occasion at all. Even grief had witnesses. Sadness visited but never unpacked its bags; it simply...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | Mar 27, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Waiting Room Name called. Not mine. Wasn’t I here first? A new arrival spreads out. One chair always left empty. I glance at copies of National Geographic, Vogue, Woman’s Weekly — all out of date. It’s possible they expired while I was waiting....
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | Mar 26, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Brine I leave everything on shingle, meet surf like a sibling, crest over playful breakers and chase the moon’s tail. There was salt in my kisses. It preserved us for a while, resisted the putrefaction. Skin on sea-stained sheets. My mind’s water,...
