Today’s choice
Previous poems
Mel Joy
minding eggs
a line of hanging hooks
bent us into the dining hall
where we ate like birds
all girls minding eggs
a school project
for cracking up
blue girl
brown tray
beige egg
empty locker room
jumper stretched
over knees
navy wool
egg
unravelling
a girl
is a changing room
filled with lockers
Mel Joy, a practicing poet since 2023 has been lucky to find multiple homes for her work in online and print journals. Her work explores the shifting sands of identity in this cenozoic era. She hopes her debut collection will come to fruition before the end of this era.
Rob A. Mackenzie
Everything is moving. I have to remind myself
it’s a flat canvas and behind it a wall that’s solid
as I am.
Melanie Branton
A vixen or a reason. A
rave. No air, no sex, nor
Charlotte Oliver
On a bench outside Next,
a punctured woman
traces circles in the air with
a pale finger
Peter Devonald
He is bitterest regrets,
dark chocolate, olives and kale,
The Telegraph and Magritte’s
pipe, the treachery of images.
Anne Ryland
Restless two-hundred-year-old village elder,
a ragged playground of words, or is it weeds –
fragments of chant to slaps of skipping rope.
Colin Dardis
I have never climbed a tree,
never broken a bone
and will never walk on water.
May Garner
The house keeps score
in places no one checks any longer.
Sally Spiers
Night’s white noise is over. Day arises
to stillness. Light crouches behind windows
Tim Brookes
In the charity shop I try on a coat
flocked with fake shearling,
shaved-soft almost: fibres
fired onto plastic to fool the wrist.