by Helen Ivory | Jul 9, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
When young boys go missing When young boys go missing, the neighbourhood rallies a search party. We panic like a bomb’s ticking against time. Our fears, ripen to a burst, we scamper through streets, cells & prisons holding tightly to the hem...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 8, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Fuel For The Fire Tish Murtha. Photographer 1956 – 2013 She never ran away or tried to escape that unholy beginning She wasn’t one to cry when she was beaten Tish was always coming home home with its broken bricks and scrap fires always the smell...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 7, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Up She Rises Hooray and up she rises early in the morning She’s grateful to be alive with these tumours crackling in her bones Coaxes arthritic legs to take the first steps of the day There’s weight in her chest as she leans into the bin and...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 6, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Going Downtown Going downtown was pre-drinking, save money, buy confidence. Going downtown was queuing outside Walkabout, a drunken reality show. Going downtown wasn’t a release, but a rite of passage. Going downtown was therapy. Going downtown...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 3, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Slow walk / in bits Where can we go on holidays this year,and when will we get a house if you’re away for two years,and now you’re crying,and it’s £4 to park for the day here,and it was dry when we started now we’re...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 2, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
How many handfuls of mush today? On a good day it’s 13, on a bad day it’s more like 79. Shall we build you out of cardboard? Shall we build you out of tin cans? Maybe tin cans would be more durable. Last time the cardboard got wet. You are no less...
