by Helen Ivory | Oct 15, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Muscle memory I cut up my plaster cast and buried it deep into the earth. Mystics say if you offer pain to the natural world, it will heal what’s left behind. I prayed out loud when the wind howled and rain cleansed me of grief. Now it seems my...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 14, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Morton’s Laws Think me not a pessimist, Or, for that matter, a cynic. But my First Law (I don’t Care a fig for Newton) states: If it makes sense it will not Happen. The corollary states: The more sense it makes, The less likely it is to happen....
by Helen Ivory | Oct 13, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Oz Hardwick is a European poet, photographer, occasional musician, and accidental academic, who has published ten chapbooks and collections, and loads more interesting stuff with other people. He is Professor of Creative Writing at Leeds Trinity...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 12, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Tinder Box Bugle weed and bee-blossoms catch the sparks and pass the flames lifted by the dry Santa Ana breeze, from black cottonwood to blue oak, down to the shrubs of the chaparral. The wind raises burning embers, fireballs like giant orange...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 11, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Buzzard In the third month of drought we swerved round a buzzard that stood in the road. A hedgerow deep breath for the moment to register, to name the thing. We turned, drove back. In the hazards she was shaded with the forest. Was she stunned?...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 10, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Mountain Lover You stand there like someone who left six thousand years ago and I was to blame. You will not speak of your symptoms of being, you couldn’t give a fuck. Always that distant look but I can walk to you in an hour. Your feet — who...
