Today’s choice
Previous poems
Eve Chancellor
Kafkaesque
Imagine waking up one day and discovering
that you are a horse. At first, you might not
believe it and think you are dreaming. Gradually,
you would come to realise and go, hahaha!
Oh my god! A horse? You would look down
at this body that was not the body you went
to sleep in. All this new hair and nobody
has taught you how to shave it. Suddenly
you have difficulty getting out of bed. You try
to explain to your parents, but they won’t
put up with your whinnying. Instead, you must
get used to taking all your meals outside,
in the stables, with all the other mares who dreamt
that maybe, one day, they too could be different.
Eve Chancellor is an English Teacher in Manchester. Her poetry is featured online and in multiple anthologies, including: ‘Atrium,’ ‘Dust,’ ‘The Dawntreader’ and Ink Sweat & Tears.
Kate Noakes for International Women’s Day
Each year in March, on the eighth day,
the one we’re allowed to call ours,
slowly, Jess reads our names . . .
Julia Webb for International Women’s Day
hoover witch mum / mum on the rocks / mum’s coach horses / all the king’s mums /
Sue Burge for International Women’s Day
speaks whale, speaks star
breathes in — tight as a tomb
breathes out — splintered crackle
Gill Connors for International Women’s Day
Rack and stretch her, loosen flesh
from bone. A jointed bird will not squawk.
Helen Ivory for International Women’s Day
A woman somewhere is typing on the internet
my heart wakes me up like clockwork.
Hélène Demetriades
At breakfast my man sticks a purple
magnolia bud in my soft boiled egg.
The flower opens, distilling to lilac.
Stuart Henson
Sometimes I’m surprised there’s light
in dark places, those corridors, those alleys
where you wouldn’t stray if you didn’t need
Richard Stimac
Trends of lead, silver, copper, and zinc
vein the middle of Missouri . . .
David R. Willis
. . . something, cold
wet and bitter, saline
sided by yellow sand . . .