Ink Sweat & Tears is a UK based webzine which publishes and reviews poetry, prose, prose-poetry, word & image pieces and everything in between. Our tastes are eclectic and magpie-like and we aim to publish something new every day.

We try to keep waiting-time short, but because of increased submissions, the current waiting time between submission and publication is around twelve weeks.

If you have come here looking for more information on our ‘Uprising & Resistance’ Project in conjunction with Spread the Word and Black Beyond Data, please go here.

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Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day

Elly Katz

When naked with myself, I feel where a right elbow isn’t, then is. I let my left palm guide me through the exhibition of my body.

Laurence Morris

The night of his arrest I climbed a hill
to find a deep cave in which to hide

Sarp Sozdinler

As a kid, Nehisi used to sleep in a treehouse. He could curl right into it from his bedroom window. He would have a hard time falling asleep every time his parents got loud or physical.

Three poems on Counting for National Poetry Day: Max Wallis, Julie Anne Jenson, Brian Kelly

I don’t wear them
or have any
but you gave me a pair
of seven-inch goth platform heels.

Fizza Abbas

They say change is a constant,
but this constant became a coefficient
always racing to catch me

Previously featured

Recent Prose

Jesse Keng Sum Lee

Lloyd is dressed like a candy bar in an all-too-bright gas station. Gleaming red tracksuit,
brand name under the sternum like a label.

Kapka Nilan

When she left, the winds picked up and the bloated sun filled the horizon with fire, the sky turning ochre. She hurried in the heat, leaving behind what she called a tribe, not a homeland.

Jude Mason

I have compiled an incomplete list of the small and many forms of sadness that can be experienced by humans. The sadness of cracking the spine of a new book. The sadness of odd socks. The sadness of attempting to pet a cat, but the cat does not wish to be petted.

Fokkina McDonnell

I begged my boss to let me do the interview with the fire historian. I have form, I told him.

Maria Sanger

She stared at the many photographs of blackthorns. A cluster of people wandered past and gathered at the next easel, but her feet refused to budge from ‘Number 13’

Recent Haiku

R.C. Thomas

The Universe dreamed I’d come to its restaurant. I needed to pass the time before my train home.

Anthony Lusardi

the highway asphalt. reeks of exhaust and burnt rubber. the cars and trucks go by. the sun boiling and you rotting.

Chen-ou Liu

snow crystals
on my neighbor’s windows …
Foreclosure askew

& more

Shasta Hatter

Empty Basket

Driving down the boulevard, I see large trees decorated with pink and white blossoms, evergreens tower over houses, trees flourish with spring greenery.

Jayant Kashyap

We are in the bath, your hands
around my back, mine around yours—
everything covered in a fog.

News

Word & Image

Filmpoems

Janet Lees

Janet Lees

https://youtu.be/q0nStafY1GI Nine Moons  Physic The moon changes size Tonight it is small and high white and hard as a...

read more

Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day

Elly Katz

When naked with myself, I feel where a right elbow isn’t, then is. I let my left palm guide me through the exhibition of my body.

Laurence Morris

The night of his arrest I climbed a hill
to find a deep cave in which to hide

Sarp Sozdinler

As a kid, Nehisi used to sleep in a treehouse. He could curl right into it from his bedroom window. He would have a hard time falling asleep every time his parents got loud or physical.

Three poems on Counting for National Poetry Day: Max Wallis, Julie Anne Jenson, Brian Kelly

I don’t wear them
or have any
but you gave me a pair
of seven-inch goth platform heels.

Fizza Abbas

They say change is a constant,
but this constant became a coefficient
always racing to catch me

News

Word & Image

Filmpoems

Janet Lees

Janet Lees

https://youtu.be/q0nStafY1GI Nine Moons  Physic The moon changes size Tonight it is small and high white and hard as a...

read more

Previously featured

Recent Prose

Jesse Keng Sum Lee

Lloyd is dressed like a candy bar in an all-too-bright gas station. Gleaming red tracksuit,
brand name under the sternum like a label.

Kapka Nilan

When she left, the winds picked up and the bloated sun filled the horizon with fire, the sky turning ochre. She hurried in the heat, leaving behind what she called a tribe, not a homeland.

Jude Mason

I have compiled an incomplete list of the small and many forms of sadness that can be experienced by humans. The sadness of cracking the spine of a new book. The sadness of odd socks. The sadness of attempting to pet a cat, but the cat does not wish to be petted.

Fokkina McDonnell

I begged my boss to let me do the interview with the fire historian. I have form, I told him.

Maria Sanger

She stared at the many photographs of blackthorns. A cluster of people wandered past and gathered at the next easel, but her feet refused to budge from ‘Number 13’

Recent Haiku

R.C. Thomas

The Universe dreamed I’d come to its restaurant. I needed to pass the time before my train home.

Anthony Lusardi

the highway asphalt. reeks of exhaust and burnt rubber. the cars and trucks go by. the sun boiling and you rotting.

Chen-ou Liu

snow crystals
on my neighbor’s windows …
Foreclosure askew

& more

Shasta Hatter

Empty Basket

Driving down the boulevard, I see large trees decorated with pink and white blossoms, evergreens tower over houses, trees flourish with spring greenery.

Jayant Kashyap

We are in the bath, your hands
around my back, mine around yours—
everything covered in a fog.

Picks of the Month

Reviews