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The archive is a separate site formed from all the posts from that original Ink Sweat & Tears website, it consists of everything we have published up to the end of 2019.
Recent posts
Praniti Gulyani
A Slice of Sonnet Go out with your fishing-net, and sit by the brook, the brook which holds a whisper of moon. Tell them that you’re going out to catch some stray salmon. Then, they won’t smell a rat. Ensure that it isn’t the complete, full moon...
Jack McGrath
(Untitled) just for now (and I doubt persistence) the rubble of my mind is whipped up draftily in a flurry quivers with new direction with something like optimism Jack McGrath is a 23 year old writer living in Manchester. He tends to...
Michael Burton
Rest Assured You won’t be there tonight sagged upon the stool of an emptying bar the same corner where you and Frank used to sit as weekends blurred by. Nor will you stumble into a club after hours to mumble your age, name and how this isn’t your...
Kevin Higgins
Always and Everywhere after Wislawa Szymborska God may have been abolished but politics is everywhere and always. Your arrival on and departure from Earth are political. Even if you don’t die of it, though many do, politics is present at your last...
Susie Wild
Nude, smoking, in the dawn doorway he stands, or leans against the door frame, light spills around him, haloing as he moons me. The husband, inhales smoke, exhales smoke, takes deep breaths surveys his terraced territory: newly-cut trees, soil...
Yuanbing Zhang translates Hongri Yuan
The Wine of the Rainbow The sunshine wrote a line of words in the snow told you that the door of the vault of heaven was opening new interstellar cities would come illuminate human eyes submerged by the sea. When the giants returns from outer...
Martin Potter
Pine Sun-consuming needle- Leaf cluster crowned A sheath of rough wrinkle Bark that treasures red Pushing light wooded Works resinous squeeze Out of adverse climate Clenched fist of a tree Martin Potter...
Fiona Larkin
Aftermath Dark as ink this fig on your outstretched hand what kind of offering is it please verify I can’t figure out what to do with the slumped weight of it though your voice is persuasive enough to return me to blossom could I place it with...
Yvonne Amey
* you gone I dream I’m chasing darkness through our castle * souvenir scarf in ocean-green I wrap Australia around my neck * alone on a foreign shore silver gulls dine with me Yvonne Amey received her MFA from the University of...
Hilary Watson
Echo Chamber Women are bleeding in the back alleys, alcoves, covering their breasts and babies’ heads, working extra shifts for taxed Tampax and school vests. They smoke to forget, smoke for an excuse to leave the room, they are laughing, weeping...
Vote for your July 2020 Pick of the Month
Time once more to choose from six excellent poems by six fine poets to decide who will be Pick of the Month for July 2020. Will you subscribe to Grant Tarbard's delightful 'The New Testament of Dog' or be moved by Bethany W Pope's very personal 'Year of the Plague'?...
Luke Emmett
Looking An easy work of love taking minds to new vistas, easy work and simple things -- say "you are beautiful" then remixing it to a new medium -- a thing more plastic. My language is mostly verbs; it's liberal, and easy to work into its moulds...
Frank Dullaghan
How to Escape and Other Theories For Mary My sister sings me to sleep from half a world beyond, and I sink into the pool of night with an earful of song. Outside, this foreign city closes and I travel to Dundalk – the Green Church, Castletown Road...
Diana Devlin
Holy Days I took you to see churches in hot countries. You admired the architecture, peeked inside the giant ribcage but found no heart, only empty pews for empty people. Sometimes, you strolled majestically up the spine towards the altar, like a...
Pat Edwards
Quite Contrary This was the only place she felt at peace, our Mary, in her haphazard back garden. She loved to tend it, plant things to grow, fashioned a path like rosary from stones. She rubbed slate together trying for sparks but found instead...
Eamonn Shanahan
Tri Jablana There’s a walk I do alongside a bank of the Kupa from Dubovac to Gaza then curve out into open country where before you get to the mental health institution there are three poplars - tri jablana - three poplars in a field in a lot of...
Clare Crossman reviews ‘The Shadow Factory’ by Deborah Harvey
The title of this collection is taken from a poem with that name in the book. Was it night fall or the sun eloping with a cloud? No one knew for sure but whatever the cause the shadow factory vanished. The poem in its entirety is about the demolition and...
Konstantina Sozou-Kyrkou
Chemical Elements and Waste They’re playing card games in the garden. Whenever I shuffle the card pack or sniff their coffee, or shift their keys, they get furious. ‘You have no place here, Spotty’, they point a finger at me. ‘Keep out of the way....
Aidan Casey
Taxi i need t hustle i need t score i need a drink & then a few more i need a hand t get t my feet i need an elbow t cross th street i need a hug baby i need a kiss i need t skip th preliminaries i need a proxy an adult toy i need a girl...
Annie Wright
Night Owl In the worrisome hours before dawn you’d be up quartering the house for silent chores. Never an easy relationship, you’d send letters or cards I treasured. Four-thirty, I’ve just finished ironing. You hated fluorescent tubes, preferred...