by Helen Ivory | Aug 19, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Longing golden shovel after Czesław Miłosz I’m trying to stop thinking about what I want to not // be. Sometimes I have looked into my heart and found that // everything’s packed up. The space so unassuming that I // catch myself thinking, where...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 18, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
I want to be two-tongued again To go back to the time when I slipped from one language to another with ease, when I knew the contours of my Irish home. To stand with Dad by the window, chat in the room of our own tongue about my day, my dreams. I...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 17, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Revisited Trees after Harold Monro from Trees: lingering their period of decay in transitory forms. I One summer afternoon, you find yourself needing respite from the light and glossy sepia, from sweat and the rosacea. You retreat back to your...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 16, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Lightbulb Moment only now is it apparent how dishonouring a body is a crime why did this not imprint light up in me before that when in films lynching desecration has a price gives...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 15, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
At Aber Falls he felt nothing water sheeted past grottoes snakes of tributary lazed along below Yr Wyddfa a steam train sauntered by sun-sharp tufts of grass and black tears of earth upward away and all the land beside the train slipped down...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 14, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
the colour of I notice her because she doesn’t have a dog in an afternoon of dog-walkers and she’s wearing a yellow coat it looks like a good coat, I know that much maybe the yellowest coat ever sewn she’s alone, stamping along the river bank...
