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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Buy Ink Sweat & Tears Publishing books and pamphlets here.

Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day

Peter Devonald 

He is bitterest regrets,
dark chocolate, olives and kale,
The Telegraph and Magritte’s
pipe, the treachery of images.

Anne Ryland

Restless two-hundred-year-old village elder,
a ragged playground of words, or is it weeds –
fragments of chant to slaps of skipping rope.

Colin Dardis

I have never climbed a tree,
never broken a bone
and will never walk on water.

May Garner

The house keeps score
in places no one checks any longer.

Surmaya Talyarkhan

I first heard of aphantasia in a writing workshop – a poet told us she didn’t see visual images in her head. I had always thought everyone didn’t.

Previously featured

Recent Prose

Surmaya Talyarkhan

I first heard of aphantasia in a writing workshop – a poet told us she didn’t see visual images in her head. I had always thought everyone didn’t.

Louella Lester

When Mom flew off with the Canada geese you made me promise that we would never leave one another.

Jo Bardsley

The little piece of newspaper, crisp and dark with age, flutters out of the gritty space between the fridge and the cabinet. I am cleaning the house while my wife is at school and at first I don’t understand.

Paul Goodman

They approach in hungry morning light, treading the path to the ridge and the row of giant’s teeth grown crooked with the ages

Neil Weiner

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

Recent Haiku

Wayne F. Burke

faces on a school bus:
petals of flowers
unopened

Debbie Strange

midnight sun
a polar bear’s breath
catches fire

Debbie Strange

winterberry
the first holiday
alone

On the Fifth Day of Christmas we bring you John Greening, Finola Scott, Philip Dunkerley

today, Christmas Eve,
my granddaughter visiting
her bright eyes – her faith

Rhonda Melanson

The magic of growing things, its tangible beauty, I did not understand.

News

Today, 6th March, is Ghana’s Independence Day. We are behind Kobi Essah Ayensuo, our new Editing Intern, as they and many others gather to protest against the country’s anti-LGBTQ+ bill. Read their poem connected to this subject, ‘The Year of Return’, here.

Today, 6th March, is Ghana’s Independence Day. We are behind Kobi Essah Ayensuo, our new Editing Intern, as they and many others gather to protest against the country’s anti-LGBTQ+ bill. Read their poem connected to this subject, ‘The Year of Return’, here.

Years later, there will be marches in the streets of London, the blood
in the flag outside the Ghana High Commission will stain the windows
and I will hold a mic to my mouth to try and halt time,
death, to halt history for my people…

read more

Word & Image

Jonathan Edis

Jonathan Edis

Beware the Phantom Limbo Dancer

beware
the phantom limbo dancer
who steals in unawares

read more

Filmpoems

Rebecca Maria

Rebecca Maria

https://youtu.be/upa_QpWegvA   Being   Rebecca María is a writer and filmmaker, formerly a theatre director...

read more

Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day

Peter Devonald 

He is bitterest regrets,
dark chocolate, olives and kale,
The Telegraph and Magritte’s
pipe, the treachery of images.

Anne Ryland

Restless two-hundred-year-old village elder,
a ragged playground of words, or is it weeds –
fragments of chant to slaps of skipping rope.

Colin Dardis

I have never climbed a tree,
never broken a bone
and will never walk on water.

May Garner

The house keeps score
in places no one checks any longer.

Surmaya Talyarkhan

I first heard of aphantasia in a writing workshop – a poet told us she didn’t see visual images in her head. I had always thought everyone didn’t.

News

Today, 6th March, is Ghana’s Independence Day. We are behind Kobi Essah Ayensuo, our new Editing Intern, as they and many others gather to protest against the country’s anti-LGBTQ+ bill. Read their poem connected to this subject, ‘The Year of Return’, here.

Today, 6th March, is Ghana’s Independence Day. We are behind Kobi Essah Ayensuo, our new Editing Intern, as they and many others gather to protest against the country’s anti-LGBTQ+ bill. Read their poem connected to this subject, ‘The Year of Return’, here.

Years later, there will be marches in the streets of London, the blood
in the flag outside the Ghana High Commission will stain the windows
and I will hold a mic to my mouth to try and halt time,
death, to halt history for my people…

read more

Word & Image

Jonathan Edis

Jonathan Edis

Beware the Phantom Limbo Dancer

beware
the phantom limbo dancer
who steals in unawares

read more

Filmpoems

Rebecca Maria

Rebecca Maria

https://youtu.be/upa_QpWegvA   Being   Rebecca María is a writer and filmmaker, formerly a theatre director...

read more

Previously featured

Recent Prose

Surmaya Talyarkhan

I first heard of aphantasia in a writing workshop – a poet told us she didn’t see visual images in her head. I had always thought everyone didn’t.

Louella Lester

When Mom flew off with the Canada geese you made me promise that we would never leave one another.

Jo Bardsley

The little piece of newspaper, crisp and dark with age, flutters out of the gritty space between the fridge and the cabinet. I am cleaning the house while my wife is at school and at first I don’t understand.

Paul Goodman

They approach in hungry morning light, treading the path to the ridge and the row of giant’s teeth grown crooked with the ages

Neil Weiner

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

Recent Haiku

Wayne F. Burke

faces on a school bus:
petals of flowers
unopened

Debbie Strange

midnight sun
a polar bear’s breath
catches fire

Debbie Strange

winterberry
the first holiday
alone

On the Fifth Day of Christmas we bring you John Greening, Finola Scott, Philip Dunkerley

today, Christmas Eve,
my granddaughter visiting
her bright eyes – her faith

Rhonda Melanson

The magic of growing things, its tangible beauty, I did not understand.

Picks of the Month

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Reviews

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