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

Marilyn Ricci

After his baby son died he strapped
a tumble dryer to his back and ran
the roads around the village.

Wendy Clayton

I’m always thinking about how I can find more human beings.

Kate Leah Hewett

Sorry, but I’ve stopped
cleaning the windows.

Winifred Mok

Perhaps it’s because
I look like
I’m just passing through

Col Fleetwood

Unmoored on an ocean of heather
no wind to pluck the strings
of the aeolian harp

Previously featured

Sophie Diver

      Ghost, Moth They want you out of this House of forgotten tea in which you are floating Like a calcium slip This house in which you yield As a sweep of onion skin In old dishwater Disgusted by yourself hollowed out In the flesh of an armchair An...

read more

Oliver Comins

      On the Hill No-one has seen me outside the bungalow. I am a rumour behind windows that reflect the sky and reveal nothing of an indoor life. I could pretend there is an extensive lawn in front of me, leading down a gentle slope to a pleached hedge...

read more

Recent Prose

Layla Sabourian

We were happy people once. Not naïve, just animated, social, alive. We gathered constantly. We danced at weddings, at birthdays, at no occasion at all.

Joel Shelley

Dr Summers presses the ignition and the machine whirs to life.

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.

Recent Haiku

Roger Robinson

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

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

News

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Word & Image

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Filmpoems

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Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day

Marilyn Ricci

After his baby son died he strapped
a tumble dryer to his back and ran
the roads around the village.

Wendy Clayton

I’m always thinking about how I can find more human beings.

Kate Leah Hewett

Sorry, but I’ve stopped
cleaning the windows.

Winifred Mok

Perhaps it’s because
I look like
I’m just passing through

Col Fleetwood

Unmoored on an ocean of heather
no wind to pluck the strings
of the aeolian harp

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

Sophie Diver

      Ghost, Moth They want you out of this House of forgotten tea in which you are floating Like a calcium slip This house in which you yield As a sweep of onion skin In old dishwater Disgusted by yourself hollowed out In the flesh of an armchair An...

read more

Oliver Comins

      On the Hill No-one has seen me outside the bungalow. I am a rumour behind windows that reflect the sky and reveal nothing of an indoor life. I could pretend there is an extensive lawn in front of me, leading down a gentle slope to a pleached hedge...

read more

Recent Prose

Layla Sabourian

We were happy people once. Not naïve, just animated, social, alive. We gathered constantly. We danced at weddings, at birthdays, at no occasion at all.

Joel Shelley

Dr Summers presses the ignition and the machine whirs to life.

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.

Recent Haiku

Roger Robinson

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

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

Picks of the Month

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Reviews

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