by Helen Ivory | Mar 9, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Chilled Yeah, I’m okay; been beatin’ up the soil with a spade and fork deadheading the has-beens who no longer talk I have to say in this bone crushing winter I nearly gave up but I’m alright now. Gonna sort the pond next and yup, many a thing has...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 8, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Letter At last my tongue unfurls its vindications. I’m not a silent object of love—a rouged letter in the ruckles of your bed. You try and squeeze me into your glass slippers, but I’m soaring towards the ceiling, crystal shards studding my...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 7, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
After Dinner We take up our positions either side of the mantelpiece – he’s in his rocking-chair behind The Times, mouth moving, no sound; I’m counting stitches, the pattern, the history; outside, applause: hailstones on flagstones, then silence...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 6, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
bats under the bridge a broad vault but too low to skirt its flowing floor by weed-cramped margins awareness of great weight above the suspended stones unhomely cut short shelter damp through-draught echoes a paradise of reverse for night-bats...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 5, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Out of office auto-response desks morph into surplus femurs stalking unlit rooms chairs are pelvises minus a sense of swing walls creep further apart each day carpet oceans lap workstations nobody needs to raise a voice now on the executive...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 4, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Once upon a time there was a word that was sick of its meaning the way it was said and said like a wet cloth carelessly slapping a table. What a tearjerker of a word it was. It barely knew what it meant anymore like it had collapsed from...
