Hello

you have found your way here from an old link.

You can search here to find things or browse by category or post.

You can also visit the IS&T archive

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

Andie Davies

      Background Title This poem is called listen to the background noise or have a chat with the person next to you or I wonder what they'll say next or I love overhearing breakups or they were roommates or I wrote this at a poetry reading hosted by...

read more

Alex Vellis

      Wild Years And so give me wild summers. Give me long, soft nights and give me streets that snake, and steal, and grow dark. And so give me campfire lungs. Give me hot skin and give me well-read books that belch, and spit, and grow light. And so...

read more

Zoe Konstantinou

      End Credits  You sneak into my body between old ladies chanting in the fourties  and a soprano who extolls the spring. As she reaches immeasurable heights you sneak in bolder You’re made of music. You gave away your secret and now it’s too late to...

read more

Francis-Xavier Mukiibi

      Buffer // Birth   face was born from a broken mirror, this line on my left cheek the fracture. when does this body become spirit; untethered upon absence of framework. this morning, it has split further. like a panther on boar rips hide from...

read more

Lou Hill

      Ones And Zeros Of An Endless Monday I’m having a crisis meeting at The Ivy with the Marketing Aficionados you recommended bending an iron bar until everyone stops clapping pull serious faces say they’re gonna open me up see if there’s anything...

read more

Troy Cabida

      For the boy playing with silk scarves at 2:25am here’s something to wear to cover over the head and the ears for those who come up to you with questions that sound like threats here’s something to wear if you’ve ever needed to hide the throbbing...

read more

Julia Webb

      Yearnings StJohns won’t let the crowlight in, only sparrowbeams and antdark. StJohns is over-alive with noise – day and night, it never stops. Owlish stuffs her ears with balled-up toilet paper, buries her head under the sofa cushions. Dadward’s...

read more

Sarah L Dixon

      The Tuesday the world changed for aardvarks I never liked rain. And today it raged. Flooded into the sand that is our bed. It drenched the warm corners where I cuddle with Bert away from daylight. The ants ran from it and I was unable to resist...

read more

Jennie E. Owen

      The Rose Queen Even now, looking at the photos I cannot see myself there, on the edges heels on the curb, with my sister, watching the queens on walking day take a lead behind the mounted police. The brassed bands, the drums the beat and blow of...

read more

Peter Clarke reviews ‘Idiolect’ by P.W Bridgman

    Peter Clarke Reviews Idiolect by P.W. Bridgman   P.W. Bridgman’s second collection, Idiolect, has been sitting on my desk for a while now. This has allowed me to dip into it from time to time after first reading, to be reminded of how original is...

read more

Katy Evans-Bush

      From Lines by Kenneth Patchen #48 ‘Yet there will be peace in certain parts of the city; sonnets dripping like moss from the walls; women holding their gifts out, arms, thighs, their quick song…’ — Kenneth Patchen, ‘The Hunted City’ This body of...

read more

Lucy Heuschen

      Discussing Maternity Leave He sits behind his desk, hands folded across his belly, frowning over his expensive specs. His eyes, his shiny crown, his wedding ring. Oh My God, I think. Is he visualising it? Me, shagging? Does he think I’ve neglected...

read more

Abbi Parcell

      FAGGOT pt2 I am more than my shoes, Even the black boots I wear Day in day out to work rubbed smooth on the soles. I am more than the cheap-end shirts That hide my tits and that you Frown at, openly, at the shop, the park, On the bus after a long...

read more

Debbie Strange

        "Goodbye" - An original photograph, overpainted and embellished with natural and digital elements, with text culled from my book, The Language of Loss: Haiku & Tanka Conversations (Sable Books 2020).   Debbie Strange (Canada) is a...

read more

Adam Horovitz

      Into the Orkney Sky That spring, I learned how to fly. Willed my small arms hollow, thrust them into a long coat and made wings as the wind rose from plaintive selkie cry to fury’s register. I spread myself gull-like into the sea’s salt-feathered...

read more

Kate Noakes

      Grandmother during the war Turn to the afternoon sun, boys, turn to the cobalt sky, but shield your faces from the blast and smoke. Your grandmother is planting sunflowers early this year; three in each pot for luck. The glass in her greenhouse is...

read more

Andrew McDonnell

    Andrew McDonnell writes poetry and short fiction. His debut collection The Somnambulist Cookbook (Salt) was published in 2019. He lives in Norwich but works in Peterborough to ensure a long commute in which he can write things that are not emails.  ...

read more

Caspar Wort

      Point Nemo And once more you descend like captain Nemo to the depths of the planet’s tears. Torch in hand, you search the silty sea floor for any signs of life in the bleach-white corals. You search to the solo choir of a sperm whale echoing...

read more

Peter Bickerton

      You should never be disappointed by weather You should never be disappointed by weather, just accept it for what it is, it won’t lie to you or let you down. It’ll tell you, just by looking at it: you need a brolly, or a sun hat. Pack the factor...

read more