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

Tess Jolly

When I went round the next day
with a bottle of wine, his wife said
he was bruised down both sides

Jenny Mitchell

There’s no one in the flat when I come home from school,
my dinner in the fridge – poison on a flowered plate,
covered with tin foil, surrounded by full shelves of poison.

Sarah James/Leavesley

The sister I don’t have
has pockets bulging
with silver-foiled chocolate

Andy Humphrey

On screen, Dad was
the radical –
 
the introverted
pen-and-notepad kind,

Nigel Pugh

Rain like it was Biblical. Sidewalk empty, just me and a happy drunk with the weather-hardened look of a rough sleeper sauntering down the hill from Victoria Station in my direction, shouting out his joy to the world.

Previously featured

Ervin Brown for Day three of our Invisible and Visible Disabilities feature and for the last day of Autism Acceptance month

I ran to the gym instructor, a tall man. He had a bumpkin’s voice and wore a jersey like he played football. He leaned against the school wall with his buddies. I tugged at his arm and pointed at the boy who wouldn’t leave me alone, but he waved me off. This was not the first time I had been bullied for my autism.

I walked past the playground into a wooded area, trekking along the fence line until I reached the opposite end of the schoolyard. This spot is where the yard spilled into the main road. I took one step off the grass and felt a rainbow of delight explode from my chest. I was no longer on school property.

read more

Pascal Vine and – – – ajae – – – for our Invisible and Visible Disabilities Feature

Chronic fuck slug
Chronic floor sleeping
Chronic fist seething
Chronic food swallowing
Chronic feuding skin
Chronic foreseen surrender
Chronic failure synonym
Chronic sel(f)-inlictednes(s)
Chronic found inner-piece(s)
Chronic forcibly sending love (&) (kisse(s))
Chronic we (f)ucking mi(s)s you

– Pascal Vine

breaking through the battering lashings of exhaustion and overwhelm,
a quiet, passionate voice buds within you.
it exasperatingly sprouts and presses and pouts, saying:
“we’re forever dogged!
it’s forever dusk!
our soul’s been over-tillaged!
you’re becoming but a husk!
we need a rest
we need a break please!
our brittle bones are steeped in ache.”

– – – ajae – – –

read more

Recent Prose

Nigel Pugh

Rain like it was Biblical. Sidewalk empty, just me and a happy drunk with the weather-hardened look of a rough sleeper sauntering down the hill from Victoria Station in my direction, shouting out his joy to the world.

Tracey Pearson

My bucket doesn’t have a list and it’s never been kicked.

Even on the really bad days when the mocking shine of its metal body has tempted my foot to make contact,

Hallie Oakwood

His phone pings; the morning sun glares. Kyle staggers to the bathroom mirror amidst empty bottles for inducing oblivion. Red-eyed and dishevelled, with stubble masking gray complexion and black hair in matted clumps; he checks his phone. Today’s date snipes him between the eyes: one hour till…

DS Maolalai

I’m in the spare bedroom/office.
Chrysty’s in a rotten bad mood.
she walks the apartment
like a donkey stable. kicks holes

Recent Haiku

Michiya

The second time something slips from his hand, he does not move right away. He studies the distance between intention and consequence. It looks smaller than it behaves.

Jason Ryberg 

Still Life of Fish and Bird

Alex Stolis

It’s 16 below zero. Actual temp. We’re sole owners of the shore, windchill pushes it down to minus 36.

Roger Robinson

We walk from cane fields,
cotton in our nightshirts, sweet

News

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Word & Image

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Filmpoems

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Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day

Tess Jolly

When I went round the next day
with a bottle of wine, his wife said
he was bruised down both sides

Jenny Mitchell

There’s no one in the flat when I come home from school,
my dinner in the fridge – poison on a flowered plate,
covered with tin foil, surrounded by full shelves of poison.

Sarah James/Leavesley

The sister I don’t have
has pockets bulging
with silver-foiled chocolate

Andy Humphrey

On screen, Dad was
the radical –
 
the introverted
pen-and-notepad kind,

Nigel Pugh

Rain like it was Biblical. Sidewalk empty, just me and a happy drunk with the weather-hardened look of a rough sleeper sauntering down the hill from Victoria Station in my direction, shouting out his joy to the world.

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

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Previously featured

Ervin Brown for Day three of our Invisible and Visible Disabilities feature and for the last day of Autism Acceptance month

I ran to the gym instructor, a tall man. He had a bumpkin’s voice and wore a jersey like he played football. He leaned against the school wall with his buddies. I tugged at his arm and pointed at the boy who wouldn’t leave me alone, but he waved me off. This was not the first time I had been bullied for my autism.

I walked past the playground into a wooded area, trekking along the fence line until I reached the opposite end of the schoolyard. This spot is where the yard spilled into the main road. I took one step off the grass and felt a rainbow of delight explode from my chest. I was no longer on school property.

read more

Pascal Vine and – – – ajae – – – for our Invisible and Visible Disabilities Feature

Chronic fuck slug
Chronic floor sleeping
Chronic fist seething
Chronic food swallowing
Chronic feuding skin
Chronic foreseen surrender
Chronic failure synonym
Chronic sel(f)-inlictednes(s)
Chronic found inner-piece(s)
Chronic forcibly sending love (&) (kisse(s))
Chronic we (f)ucking mi(s)s you

– Pascal Vine

breaking through the battering lashings of exhaustion and overwhelm,
a quiet, passionate voice buds within you.
it exasperatingly sprouts and presses and pouts, saying:
“we’re forever dogged!
it’s forever dusk!
our soul’s been over-tillaged!
you’re becoming but a husk!
we need a rest
we need a break please!
our brittle bones are steeped in ache.”

– – – ajae – – –

read more

Recent Prose

Nigel Pugh

Rain like it was Biblical. Sidewalk empty, just me and a happy drunk with the weather-hardened look of a rough sleeper sauntering down the hill from Victoria Station in my direction, shouting out his joy to the world.

Tracey Pearson

My bucket doesn’t have a list and it’s never been kicked.

Even on the really bad days when the mocking shine of its metal body has tempted my foot to make contact,

Hallie Oakwood

His phone pings; the morning sun glares. Kyle staggers to the bathroom mirror amidst empty bottles for inducing oblivion. Red-eyed and dishevelled, with stubble masking gray complexion and black hair in matted clumps; he checks his phone. Today’s date snipes him between the eyes: one hour till…

DS Maolalai

I’m in the spare bedroom/office.
Chrysty’s in a rotten bad mood.
she walks the apartment
like a donkey stable. kicks holes

Recent Haiku

Michiya

The second time something slips from his hand, he does not move right away. He studies the distance between intention and consequence. It looks smaller than it behaves.

Jason Ryberg 

Still Life of Fish and Bird

Alex Stolis

It’s 16 below zero. Actual temp. We’re sole owners of the shore, windchill pushes it down to minus 36.

Roger Robinson

We walk from cane fields,
cotton in our nightshirts, sweet

Picks of the Month

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Reviews

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