by Helen Ivory | Aug 8, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Wax doll From a surfeit of dark you’re wax-cold at the basement window while through the back of the house light filters down the corridor and beyond there’s the garden with banana and bougainvillea and a child under the palm leaves holding out a...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 7, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
eden does my world scatter and sprout possibilities every time I take a step? I choose a sapling – it flourishes and flowers, pollinates and I pluck we tumble through the cycles selecting seed after seed I’m trapped in the circle leading from...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 6, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Tip In the evening light at the freezing tip we lug bin bags from the blanket of the car in masked anonymity through tired hi-viz employees, mumbling advice to pallid human figures, barely there, excising months of lockdown trash. I find a working...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 5, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
blackhouse when I squat down by a stone wall the moment enters windless broken arms around me naked to the sky filled with a hearth of tree a machair rug when I lose all sense of others as far as the sea and then some slip down a funnel become...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 4, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Floundering March 1897, a rough winter turns rougher. A mast-gnashing southwesterly disrupts the balance between sea and air. The horizon swirls, then vanishes. Gale-force surges churn up 30ft waves, haul chaos in their wake. Surf froths like the...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 3, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Wild Rufus after Elmore James ‘The Sky is Crying’ Wild Rufus played sax in the Duke of York jamming with Deano in the old tap room. Mostly twelve bars: Muddy Waters, Son House, Elmore James – I believe I’ll dust my broom. I snuck in late with my...
