Today’s choice
Previous poems
Ansuya Patel
I Cast Out Everything
except this burnt red vase.
Hand shaped in the muffled roar,
devouring flame in the furnace’s mouth.
Sand becomes skin of light.
Its glass body trembles like a sea
animal remembering its salt.
I hold the lagoon’s sigh,
gondolas murmur, emerald waters
flowing along Venetian blue
like mistresses of fire. Its
slender nape of earth
burned to water,
air captured in crystal.
Everything dissolves —
paper, promise, footprint.
But this vase remembers how
light once learned to stand
still.
Ansuya was a joint winner of Geoff Stevens Memorial Poetry Prize in 2024. Her debut collection is out with Indigo Dreams Publishing. Her poems have been shortlisted for Bridport, Alpine, Aurora, highly commended at Erbacce. Appeared in Allegro, Artemesia, BlackinWhite, Crowstep, Drawn to the Light, Gypsophila, Ink Sweat and Tears, Rattle and Renard. She can be found on Instagram @ansuya_a_ and online at https://
Mariam Saidan
‘Female singing constitutes a ‘forbidden act’ (ḥarām),
punishable under Article 638 of the Islamic Penal Code.’
Meg Pokrass
This is what happens when she sits alone in her dining room, eating smoked trout and canned sardines.
Chen-ou Liu
this fresh morning
so much like the others …
yet starlings shape-shift
Jim Paterson
A Tuesday morning in November
out on the street taking in the bins.
As a flight of crows flashed past
the street lights went out.
Andy Humphrey
Noises are louder now: the kesh
of tyres on tarmac slicked
with leaves. Rain’s drumming thunder.
Chrissie Gittins
When you’ve used one handle to open the door,
use the other handle to close it.
Morgan Harlow
She hadn’t lost a child but if she had she imagined it would be like that.
Antony Owen and Martin Figura on Remembrance Day
Let fathers bind their sons
to altars, so the wind
might winnow the chaff.
Stephen C. Curro
calm river
again, his fishing line
caught on a tree