by Helen Ivory | Dec 8, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Self portrait as Blackpool I am towering tall enough to ride The Wild Mouse. A cockle-hearted donkey named for a flower that doesn’t grow in sand. My bridle is so pretty, red with tin bells but my sea is impossible always out of reach or crashing...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 7, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Being Changed I am sap breathtake sound of another day a little door swinging with breezes looking for a superpower in this implacable taxed body like all our devices sending signals emojilike to impossible objects thinking we shall be changed in...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 4, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Sand Angels Sand angels are ghosts we make while still living— giant stick birds all wings and no feet Gordon Taylor (he/him) is a queer poet who walks an ever-swaying wire of technology, health care and poetry. His poems have...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 3, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Waterlogged In the tight clench of hormone-drunk years the shape of skin and skeleton just sinks your flooded self, all bogged with life’s full stops and every-day disaster. And so it seems the house is porous – our bricks that promised...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 2, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Pause a crow much wet by rain falling in massive subtractions almost a dark shadow perched on a wire with washings beak dripping words now halted by fatigues of itineraries neck subdued by water’s weight feathers drizzling alone looked straight...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 1, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Such a Victorian The bird that flutters reaches out Into time; knee-deep in nerve gas, At the cemetery gates, the children play Like half-opened flowers on a breeze; but, Deep in the coffers beneath that layer of non- Sense all along the...
