Today’s choice
Previous poems
Angeliki Ampelogianni
Eating figs on the bathroom floor
on marble tiles bird like
I am a pin measuring drops in the toilet bowl
disembogued into this locked space
with depressions of earth staring at me
the bathroom keeps the history of my enclosures
fake windows chewing up oxygen
closing as I count eggs like shapes
completely deterged of sinful shells
the fig a bit dry as I bury inside it
a stain like flesh from a gleaming branch
I shut the door counting again the days
Angeliki Ampelogianni is a Greek poet and teacher. Her work appear in Harana Poetry, Porridge Magazine, Lucent Dreaming and Poetry London among others. She was the winner of the Oxford Brookes International Poetry competition 2022 in the EAL category.
Shelby Stephenson
Meditation on Your Bare Feet In the fruit-apple crimp of glamour and fizzing pressures I found your feet, your painted nails, So Much Fawn, a rose-colored soul, flagrance of motions, though you were miles away; the image of a small rose on the...
Attracta Fahy
Dinner in the Fields I remember you arriving to the fields when we saved the hay, bringing the sweet taste of dinners, encased in Tupperware, sitting sheltered under haycocks, in the warm sun. We rested our young bodies from sweating our work,...
Elizabeth Kemball
Pied Piper Your voice echoes through my body rumbling into veins and curves. Turns me into wood; stiff and tied to your tongue - your lungs - your vibrating throat - every hum is a drum beating me into your shadow, copying every movement,...
Matt Duggan
Firewood They tell us that we are grown from the same soil our hands will all bleed in the right place a hidden resonance behind wry smiles placed inside dormitories and suitcases. If we are from the same soil and root why is one hand much older...
John McKeown
Open Love Letter I'm ready for love now, now that I'm falling apart, now that it's hard to find a centre where resistance can collect. I'm ready for love now, now that the handful who loved me have gone; more ready than I've ever been, as I clutch...
Rebecca Shamash
Magpie Lawn There they are the two magpie brothers strutting their message across the lawn. Inside she watched from the high wide window halfway up the stairs. Halfway. Standing on the stairs. Watching as the magpies spread their lonely black...
Phil Dunkerley
Well Chilled Yesterday I spent the afternoon with Vladimir Putin. He was in a good mood and kept giving me more beer; he personally attended the barbecue, serving up chicken wings and he laughed and joked with everyone, including me. You could...
Chris Fewings
Cure I asked the doctor what was wrong with me. He held his stethoscope to my amygdala. Thought there was something blocked. Try writing, he said. I have, I told him. Had to put a bung in my pen. Stuff kept dribbling out. Can't you check my...
Clive Donovan
Fairies There is little to be told about them really: they took my teeth, left modest coins and a note sometimes on paper blue, detailing private lives among frogs and wrens, schemes for the bloody stumps, the writing crazed as a butterfly's...