Today’s choice
Previous poems
S Reeson
Lightbulb Moment
only now is it apparent how
dishonouring a body is a crime
why did this not imprint
light up in me before
that when in films lynching
desecration has a price
gives value to oppression
wilfully unseeing the reality
past the being passed a task
that the wicked will embrace
we worship time and place
empathy requires more
before there was a darkness
now I am a filament of truth
S Reeson is a multi-disciplined artist who has been published by The Poetry Society, Bloomsbury/OneWorld and many others. In 2025, they are part of an ekphrastic installation at Space Studios in Ilford. A second pamphlet, Forest Management, will also be released.
Shasta Hatter
Empty Basket
Driving down the boulevard, I see large trees decorated with pink and white blossoms, evergreens tower over houses, trees flourish with spring greenery.
Tim Dwyer
The kitchen window has been
my hermit cell
Cindy Botha
what shows up at dusk
moths of course, pale parings―
filmy, restless
dark swarf of birds homeflitting
to perch-trees
sometimes a hedgehog
nosing leaflitter
an owl wooing from the pines
Vic Pickup
Operation Alphaman
It took a great effort and I had to bite hard on the stick
to push the subcostal muscles aside.
The skin had parted easily under my knife,
though keeping the blood at bay with no one to swab the wound
was difficult. This was remedied with a vacuum cleaner
Julian Brasington
When one has lived a long time alone
and not alone your time become
someone’s history and you have grown
tired of yet another war and the world
has it in for you simply for being
Jason Conway
I heard a rumour that Pandora moonlights
She wears sunglasses in the lounge
knives flexed and ready for battle
Rachael Clyne
Torn
On one side– my heritage
on the other side– their heritage
on both sides– carnage
everywhere– endless grief.
Nick Browne
Woman in the water
I’m no Ophelia, that’s for sure crazy stuff is not my style,
no garland weeds around my head it’s spindrift foam not daisies.
Sally Michaelson
The Ledger
In the left hand column
she writes
He’s married