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
Previously featured
Tamara Salih
That winter the snow kept rising,
a slow white wall climbing the windows,
each morning untouched,
Alicia Byrne Keane
I’ve been reading about ghost apples.
They are a real phenomenon, like how
everyone we can see on the wide street
outside this building is still living,
Recent Prose
Recent Haiku
News
‘A Cry’ by Mariam Saidan is the IS&T Pick of the Month for November 2025. Read and Hear It Here!
‘I have lived this. I believe every woman from Iran who reads her words will feel every line of the poems she writes.’
‘A cry that defies repression and a spirit that refuses to be silenced.’
Word & Image
Molly Knox
Ferns There was a cold winding music a frozen answer. I knelt under time’s branches. The year the ferns sang. The year...
Filmpoems
Sarah Raybould
dad would take us sledging on the hills behind our house,
we’d ride the sleeping-slopes of
/ round-back / giants,
flushed with fever-thrill and
when he capsized
we / lurched /
Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day
News
‘A Cry’ by Mariam Saidan is the IS&T Pick of the Month for November 2025. Read and Hear It Here!
‘I have lived this. I believe every woman from Iran who reads her words will feel every line of the poems she writes.’
‘A cry that defies repression and a spirit that refuses to be silenced.’
Word & Image
Molly Knox
Ferns There was a cold winding music a frozen answer. I knelt under time’s branches. The year the ferns sang. The year...
Filmpoems
Sarah Raybould
dad would take us sledging on the hills behind our house,
we’d ride the sleeping-slopes of
/ round-back / giants,
flushed with fever-thrill and
when he capsized
we / lurched /
Previously featured
Tamara Salih
That winter the snow kept rising,
a slow white wall climbing the windows,
each morning untouched,
Alicia Byrne Keane
I’ve been reading about ghost apples.
They are a real phenomenon, like how
everyone we can see on the wide street
outside this building is still living,
Recent Prose
Recent Haiku
Picks of the Month
‘Something about this’ by Stephen Keeler is the Pick of the Month for November 2024. Read and hear it here!
I love how his poetry replicates the fragmentary and impressionistic nature of memory… and then there’s the heart-breaking ending.
Read and Hear ‘The Last Person on Earth’ by Carole Bromley: IS&T’s September 2024 Pick of the Month!
‘Excellent title, and it all comes together in those final lines. The smell of the aftershave that couldn’t be washed off…’
‘Abertawe’ by Andy Breckenridge is the IS&T Pick of the Month for August 2024. Read and hear it here.
‘flowing beautiful lines of emotion’
Reviews
In Praise Of…: Chaucer Cameron reviews ‘Love the Albatross’ by Deborah Harvey
Estrangement is a complex, brutal place, both to find yourself in and to inhabit. It’s also a dangerous place to write from, being fraught with exposure, stigma, judgment and misunderstanding; and...
In Praise of… David Pollard on ‘The Whole Island’ by Simon Maddrell
‘There are some diamonds that are mostly black because their unique crystalline structure absorbs most of the light. Change your perspective as you look at them and it seems that different parts flash with different qualities of light shrouded in shadows.
This pamphlet is a necklace made of such jewellery.’
In Praise of… Claire Dyer’s ‘The Adjustments’ by Vic Pickup
‘The poems within speak of multiple losses, grief – historic and new – and yet, the reader emerges from the pages with a fullness, a sense of calm completion – the sum of their own adjustments perhaps?’