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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
IG Live with Nick Makoha
You can still catch this interview on @insta.inksweatandtears – Click on the link and then select the TV icon to see editing intern Fahad Al-Amoudi chatting to writer, facilitator and Obsidian Foundation founder Nick Makoha on IGTV! Nick Makoha is the...
Marc Woodward
Wild Rufus after Elmore James ‘The Sky is Crying’ Wild Rufus played sax in the Duke of York jamming with Deano in the old tap room. Mostly twelve bars: Muddy Waters, Son House, Elmore James – I believe I’ll dust my broom. I snuck in late with my...
Safiya Kamaria Kinshasa
Bone & Breathless skin is missing liberation & violation usually ends de same way with your DNA lying on someone’s grass in 2005 de soil asked de sky if it could collect me de sky shunted its back peach & swollen de soil made room for...
Hilary Robinson
Pineapple Upside-Down Cake Sunday. The day I worship at the hob and stove. Unholy music of the kitchen rocks from Spotify, my phone in a Pyrex jug speaker. Sweet Child of Mine. One is out running over the hills, far away from weekend crowds that...
Rachel Davies
Just Because all my life I wanted to meet you and because you were late by three weeks and the cocktail I drank while I waited for you to arrive slid down my throat like orange frogspawn while I gagged over the stainless sink and because when you...
Adriano Noble
the lover, always sometimes a man wants to come home to an empty house: there’s no dignity in feeling needy in front of others to want to feel / be the hardness of a man i’m a happy drunk but only when i’m alone so the house is empty / my...
Laura Varnam
Queen Wealhtheow: Cup-Bearer I watch her pacing the patterned floor, Passing the cup to punch-drunk brawlers, Side-stepping swords, the too-familiar fumble. A mead-hall manoeuvre so mechanical I can tell: she’s done this before. And tomorrow?...
Brendan McEntee
Deathbed Wisdom The shadow of her arm falls long across the wall. Once, she’d climbed a bald cypress in summer wearing an ivory shift. Once, she’d kissed a stranger in a rainstorm who tasted of bourbon and sea spray. The electric impulse of her...
Congratulations to Memoona!
Congratulations to our previous editing intern Memoona Zahid on her new role with Penguin Random House! It was an absolute pleasure to work with her as our first IS&T intern. In the few months Memoona spent with us, she developed her own unique editorial style and...
Ian Heffernan
RESISTANT That dream again, the one I have Most mornings now: a foghorn calls Across the river’s mouth, I scan The grey salt distance, pick out groups Of oystercatchers, dunlins, knots And, here and there, an avocet, Then turn and take the path...
Kayleigh Jayshree
ON BEING GHOSTED BY A FAMOUS MUSICIAN Nobody knew he had a glass eye, but when we were alone he’d pop it in and out, like a cuckoo clock, as a sort of intimate party trick. I was surprised by how real it looked, how it followed you around the...
Rachael Charlotte
When You Are Nowhere I only want olfaction in small doses, off my fingers, sometimes it comes when you are nowhere. This is not a joke. I’m going to ride on the back of a lion and sink my hands into his mane, drive my knees into his ribs for grip,...
Rhiannon Janae
Mother Nature She inhabits here laced in hibiscus dancing through marigolds as she weeps low hymns of sparrow’s song fluorescent forests hugging her body while she gayly frolics through a frog pond brushed barefoot as the water hugs her toes she...
In the Dark of Sadness by Helen Pletts & Romit Berger
in the dark of sadness in the dark of sadness the cob-nut tree howls, with full branches of black squirrels Helen Pletts (www.helenpletts.com) (Instagram @helen.pletts) Working collaboratively as Word & Image by Pletts & Berger with...
Finn Haunch
Black Carr im I shall not want… Greensleeves shunted through an ice cream truck in the boroughs, & leaf-gagged noise in this snug gorge….under the corporated ruins of Leeds & Bradford, the mayflower is stage-managed here: spectacular fists...
Listen to and Read ‘everyone’s version of heaven is different’ by Elisabeth Sennitt Clough, the IS&T Pick of the Month for June 2021
It reads like a simultaneous slap in the face, and a hug. I love it Sometimes you just have to laugh and that, together with the poem’s authenticity, relatability and its shape, language and imagery is why Elisabeth Sennitt Clough's 'everyone's version of...
Emily Barker
Red-tailed black cockatoo (Ngoolyark) Kaarak, kaarak The red-tailed black cockatoos call from bleeding limbs of the blooming Marri. Chet, chet, chet, chet They peck the honkey nuts. Hard fruit falls to the boort and bilara of the djarlma floor....
Julian Aiken
The Drowning We slept that summer in the small house Bedded in a meadow of foxgloves and thistles, Just a cry from the ocean -- Everyone knew about the boy Dragged from the water onto the beach, His lungs pumped with kelp and fry -- You’d span the...
Katy Evans-Bush
Extended Magic Cat Metaphor Once you disassemble it it’s all fucked up. Turns out just despair held it together. Blinky the magic cat laid sweets — paper-wrapped, coloured or plain, familiar or unknown like eggs for years, then one day Blinky broke:...
Margaret Adkins
Panning His gardening cleats punctured her left knee when she stumbled at his feet in a sack race. There was talk of tetanus. In the holidays she pretended to be his nurse. She made sandwiches when he’d just eaten. In case he had forgotten his...