Today’s choice
Previous poems
Tristan Moss
Faith
… without any irritable reaching
after fact and reason. John Keats
I try
not to think
about my daughter’s
condition
when I
hug her
as all
I have to do
is think about
how I walk
down the stairs
to lose my feet.
Tristan Moss has recently had poems published in Litter Magazine, Tears in the Fence and Snakeskin. In 2023, he published a pamphlet called Ligaments, with The Red Ceilings Press. @tristan-moss.bsky.social
David Redfield
All Day Breakfast Your bad hours fizz in a squirming glass, and as cheery as they had previously seemed you require the waitress to please change these flowers, they’re fake; this head, please ... this universe ... Hope the bellowing coffee can...
Sophia Butler
An Englishman’s Right (1978) A bitter sky hung above, people pushed past, wanting to get home, on tenterhooks. Birmingham, home to division and Enoch Powell, prophesying ‘Rivers of blood.’ Racism ingrained, transfused via jokes told by Stand-Up...
Lalah-Simone Springer
Dasheen Tuesday: a mountain of rice, one roast potato, two pieces of fried fish with bones and skin softened through oil, draped in sour rings of pepper and onion, home made coleslaw, tea. The plate is piled high and hot before you even take off...
Haroon Khan
Magic Will Snowball Once I get out of bed magic will snowball at breakneck pace My 0-60 a thing of beauty I step out of my body Transfixed Step back in Jump out of my head into my body An optimal state Hard for me to access But I’m stubborn Call...
Tré Ventour
God Save the People After ‘Decentring Whiteness’ by Darius Simpson the saying goes Black Lives Matter the saying goes Eat the Rich the saying goes celebrate the Queen’s Jubilee let’s talk about how every monarch between Elizabeth I and George III...
Andie Davies
Background Title This poem is called listen to the background noise or have a chat with the person next to you or I wonder what they'll say next or I love overhearing breakups or they were roommates or I wrote this at a poetry reading hosted by...
Alex Vellis
Wild Years And so give me wild summers. Give me long, soft nights and give me streets that snake, and steal, and grow dark. And so give me campfire lungs. Give me hot skin and give me well-read books that belch, and spit, and grow light. And so...
Zoe Konstantinou
End Credits You sneak into my body between old ladies chanting in the fourties and a soprano who extolls the spring. As she reaches immeasurable heights you sneak in bolder You’re made of music. You gave away your secret and now it’s too late to...
Francis-Xavier Mukiibi
Buffer // Birth face was born from a broken mirror, this line on my left cheek the fracture. when does this body become spirit; untethered upon absence of framework. this morning, it has split further. like a panther on boar rips hide from...