Today’s choice
Previous poems
Scott Elder
Scott Elder’s work has been widely published and placed or commended in numerous competitions in the UK and Ireland. His second collection, Maria was published by Erbacce Press in 2023. A third, My Hotel, is forthcoming by Salmon Poetry in 2026. Website: https://www.scottelder.co.uk/
John Vickers
* The syringe should never vacate The arm it pierces Growing into white blossom, tied around A finger, it displays its own idleness A presentiment Pulling up a fruity plasma Of the unhomely John Vickers has published over 60 poems in...
Clare Marsh
Bed Blocker ~ 8/7 An early morning call summons me north to your death-bed. Delayed by London’s chaos after yesterday’s bombs I arrive too late. Mary has kept vigil through the night, soothed and reassured you, arranged for Mum, also in-patient,...
Robert Boucheron
John At the Food Lion south of town, at the express checkout, the clerk’s name pin reads “John.” In his thirties, thin, in black pants and a blue polo shirt, the store uniform, John has a shaved head and a scar that runs from his left ear up over...
Sue Spiers
When I become a Rhino I’ll fill out twenty-fold, grow solid as an anvil. The horizon of me will cross the far savannah, My mouth will grow wyd, keratin thicken upward. I’ll develop rough-bark, tarmac dermal armour to deflect the sharpest barbs,...
Calvin Holder
Kandinsky called me from an opalescent sky I’ve cracked the space he said so you can read it like a poem or the transcript of a lie. Calvin Holder lives in Gloucestershire where he is much affected by...
Gerry Sarnat
Last Thursday in November Together Since 1957 Four newest mangy old dogs, done being punished for yesterday’s quasi-traditional jockeying to grab what they may have thought of as their fair share, one of several home-grown free range cooked...
Chin Li
The Crossing Isn’t it too late? I couldn’t help asking myself time and again. It was too late: the sun was gone, my chance had left; there was only one way, and I’d have no say. I washed my hands in the stream and warmed them with my breath; I saw...
Paul Stephenson
January January’s a recent graduate: cheap suit, polyester or nylon, some shiny fabric. New to the team. Golden handshake. Keen to get its teeth into something. Loads of ideas how to improve things, make the place run more smoothly. Has an eye on...
Antony Owen on Holocaust Memorial Day
Song for a yellow star belt In the square they are beating men to classical music last year they danced in this spot, the same children watched. In the square a local orchestra kneels before its composer he is made to throttle the defiant celloist...