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

Jennifer Cole

take your wedding ring
or it might get “disappeared”

Eithne Longstaff

On the road to Belfast today, I failed
to recognise my father. I saw a flamingo

by the Tamnnamore turn off, but paid
little regard as it took off…

Mark O’Connor

At half a tonne in weight
It was like the anchor –

Michael Mintrom

They lie deep in a forest, wounds
unseen, unhealed. Further back,
an escarpment with dark scars.

Thea Smiley

There’s a hiss as he eases himself in
to the green pool, steam in his smoky hair.

Previously featured

David Keyworth

Aldgate had its usual smell of dirty metal and coffee. I jumped from platform to carriage. I squeezed beside a Tate Britain poster, clutched the grab-handle. When I chanced a glance, I saw I was the only one standing. Everyone else was wearing spacesuits.

read more

Winifred Mok, Sandra Noel, Özge Lena and Alannah Taylor for Earth Day

we groan as the mercury hikes
climbing with the ball of fire
the Hot Weather Warning surrenders its flag
feels like 40 and it’s only May Day

-Winifred Mok

where geese balance on one leg
sleeping inside themselves
until they wake for hours of sun
and swimming

-Sandra Noel

You are walking in a half empty street. Carrying a rifle, you are hunting for canned food. Sultry evening falls like an electrified blanket, leaving you breathless. The world you know is long gone. The world has already surrendered to the heat waves followed by water wars, hunger wars. And hunger is a crazy carnivore in your belly. You turn a corner to see two rifles. Pointed at you. You shoot the air calmly.

-Özge Lena

I might eat more slowly, breathe more deeply the fragrance of nettle steep, be more mindful of
the miracle of vegetables of promising colour glinting in the oil of a pan, I might grind my molars
with the thought close that their substance, too, is borrowed from the minerals of the ground

-Alannah Taylor

read more

Recent Prose

Neil Weiner

Chad, an aspiring author, sank into his easy chair and drifted into a
reverie.

Stephanie Aspin on ‘Why Words Help’ for Mental Health Awareness Week

Writing is both a way of making life more liveable and of making ourselves more whole. Words have a being-ness: when we write poetry, we tap into a network of resonances.

Cheryl Snell

I am all hair, glittering with diamond-glass. A forehead streaked with blood, rubies and roses crisscrossing the tangerine flaps of a ripped collar.

Sarah Thorne

The darkening sky skids past at sixty miles an hour. My eyes are keeping a vigil over the dead fringes of tarmac either side of the road as I drive . . .

Recent Haiku

Diane Webster

lightning flashes
everyone stands
still

Chen-ou Liu on International Haiku Poetry Day

end-of-day catch
our wicker basket full
of salmon sunset

Deborah Karl-Brandt

With every book I sell, with every piece of clothing I give away . . .

Clare Bryden

how do I begin?

R.C. Thomas

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

News

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Word & Image

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Filmpoems

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Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day

Jennifer Cole

take your wedding ring
or it might get “disappeared”

Eithne Longstaff

On the road to Belfast today, I failed
to recognise my father. I saw a flamingo

by the Tamnnamore turn off, but paid
little regard as it took off…

Mark O’Connor

At half a tonne in weight
It was like the anchor –

Michael Mintrom

They lie deep in a forest, wounds
unseen, unhealed. Further back,
an escarpment with dark scars.

Thea Smiley

There’s a hiss as he eases himself in
to the green pool, steam in his smoky hair.

News

No Results Found

The page you requested could not be found. Try refining your search, or use the navigation above to locate the post.

Word & Image

No Results Found

The page you requested could not be found. Try refining your search, or use the navigation above to locate the post.

Filmpoems

No Results Found

The page you requested could not be found. Try refining your search, or use the navigation above to locate the post.

Previously featured

David Keyworth

Aldgate had its usual smell of dirty metal and coffee. I jumped from platform to carriage. I squeezed beside a Tate Britain poster, clutched the grab-handle. When I chanced a glance, I saw I was the only one standing. Everyone else was wearing spacesuits.

read more

Winifred Mok, Sandra Noel, Özge Lena and Alannah Taylor for Earth Day

we groan as the mercury hikes
climbing with the ball of fire
the Hot Weather Warning surrenders its flag
feels like 40 and it’s only May Day

-Winifred Mok

where geese balance on one leg
sleeping inside themselves
until they wake for hours of sun
and swimming

-Sandra Noel

You are walking in a half empty street. Carrying a rifle, you are hunting for canned food. Sultry evening falls like an electrified blanket, leaving you breathless. The world you know is long gone. The world has already surrendered to the heat waves followed by water wars, hunger wars. And hunger is a crazy carnivore in your belly. You turn a corner to see two rifles. Pointed at you. You shoot the air calmly.

-Özge Lena

I might eat more slowly, breathe more deeply the fragrance of nettle steep, be more mindful of
the miracle of vegetables of promising colour glinting in the oil of a pan, I might grind my molars
with the thought close that their substance, too, is borrowed from the minerals of the ground

-Alannah Taylor

read more

Recent Prose

Neil Weiner

Chad, an aspiring author, sank into his easy chair and drifted into a
reverie.

Stephanie Aspin on ‘Why Words Help’ for Mental Health Awareness Week

Writing is both a way of making life more liveable and of making ourselves more whole. Words have a being-ness: when we write poetry, we tap into a network of resonances.

Cheryl Snell

I am all hair, glittering with diamond-glass. A forehead streaked with blood, rubies and roses crisscrossing the tangerine flaps of a ripped collar.

Sarah Thorne

The darkening sky skids past at sixty miles an hour. My eyes are keeping a vigil over the dead fringes of tarmac either side of the road as I drive . . .

Recent Haiku

Diane Webster

lightning flashes
everyone stands
still

Chen-ou Liu on International Haiku Poetry Day

end-of-day catch
our wicker basket full
of salmon sunset

Deborah Karl-Brandt

With every book I sell, with every piece of clothing I give away . . .

Clare Bryden

how do I begin?

R.C. Thomas

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

Picks of the Month

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Reviews

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