by Kobi Essah Ayensuo | May 24, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
I want to wake up like they do in films no puffy eyes that blink to find the dawn foreclosed again behind those wretched blinds you bought but sunlight streaming in through impractically curtainless windows; my skin, made-up in golden...
by Kobi Essah Ayensuo | May 23, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Poem for my Father Come away Simon, away to the woods with us. Leave your shoes by the stairs and follow our feet to the bridge. The dog is scared of the burn so won’t bite your fingers when you cross. We can sleep in the treehouse and wait for...
by Kobi Essah Ayensuo | May 22, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
In My Hand I Hold Two Truths I make broth, feel odd wiping it off your face moments after swiping through bodies, preferences, dates. Sunset-orange forget-me-nots mar the napkin cloth I dab along your stubbled jaw. If forget-me-nots bloomed blood orange....
by Helen Ivory | May 21, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Paysage Moralisé There’s more to this three-foot square: lilac vetch & vermilion field-poppies, some sort of crucifer spreading its yellow legs for an evening damp enough to be hot; opposite, big-box retail, facing away to heavens dreamt...
by Helen Ivory | May 20, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Saint Brendan Brown limpets with tonsured heads creeping over the fish-stink isle, spongy underfoot, seaweed for grass. At the head, fire-crowned Brendan his feet licked by waves, knows tidings odd. Is it word from God, or knowing the wrinkled sea...
by Helen Ivory | May 19, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
A Taste of Apocalypse Such stillness in the air. The attic window is a cupped ear set to alert the house to subtle shifts in atmosphere: auguries; signs; any tiny notice of cataclysmic change. All it amplifies today is a lone jay’s irritated...
