Today’s choice
Previous poems
Nick Cooke
Between the Ears
For Seán Street, in celebration of his 80th birthday
(2nd June 2026)
Molluscous receivers, would that you could
turn your talents inwards, and pick up
all that goes on in the cerebral swamp
that separates you, with its eighty-six
billion neurones, the tiny light-black
entities of which Poirot so often spoke –
along with oodles of (possibly telltale)
fat. ‘I wish you could hear yourself’…
how often have we heard or said this,
forgetting ‘There’s none so deaf’ is the best
of mottoes? – and those myriad neurone-
radars will only work if the lower-sited organ
(on the left-hand side of the thorax)
is disinclined to switch them off,
as it can, dear molluscs, as it does.
Poets applaud the noble ticker ruling
the noggin, but you’ll think otherwise:
the gift of self-audition’s no small feat,
and the heart most times should stick
with its basic bloody business – to beat.
Nick Cooke has had around a hundred poems published or accepted, in a variety of outlets including Acumen, Agenda, The Dark Horse, Ink Sweat & Tears, the High Window Journal and I Am Not A Silent Poet, along with around 40 poetry reviews. In 2016 his poem ‘Tanis’ placed first in a Wax Poetry and Art contest. He was a featured poet on the Flapper Press site in December 2025.
Robin Lindsay Wilson
The single crimson rose
she wears in her lapel,
to test his imperfections,
draws him into detail
Ian Hickey
When the half-light drops below the horizon
the birth of darkness comes
Rose Lennard
My mother died seven years ago, but last night
she had a message for me. The mechanics
are irrelevant, what she gave stays with me
Rongili Biswas
Girls under the tree,
one with hands clasped as in worship,
the others picking
the scarlet fallen seeds
Laura Sheahen
What is the ancient curse they know that you don’t
Moving along their mouth-lines and their eyebrows
Lowering their lids, tensing their nods or shrugs
Marilyn Ricci
After his baby son died he strapped
a tumble dryer to his back and ran
the roads around the village.
Wendy Clayton
I’m always thinking about how I can find more human beings.
Kate Leah Hewett
Sorry, but I’ve stopped
cleaning the windows.
Winifred Mok
Perhaps it’s because
I look like
I’m just passing through