Kari Pindoria the colour yellow will die tomorrow so we squeeze a yolk in the pan for the last time, before breakfast becomes silent. don’t lemons always look the best in still life paintings? how they carry the boldnessof a child on monkey bars in the park. we will never get another season of spring or the simpsons and daisies will hollow out in … Continue reading Yellow
Author: And Other Poems
Forward Prize for Best Single Poem
I'm pleased to say that Richard Price's poem 'Personality Test (with worked examples)' first published at And Other Poems has been commended in this year's Forward Prizes and included in the annual anthology. Here is Richard's poem on this site. This is the third time that a poem first published at AOP has been commended … Continue reading Forward Prize for Best Single Poem
Two Poems by Sophie Herxheimer
Mother in Heaven What’s the difference Between a ghost and a bride? Both like to spook you darling! I’m in crisp broderie anglaise So pretty and demure, and look! I’m marrying for the very first time, My first boyfriend, handsome Desmond Cliff, who loves me In that great unguarded Boyfriend way. He’s cricket captain! … Continue reading Two Poems by Sophie Herxheimer
‘Cemetery in Powys’ by Helen Kay
Overlooked by pensioners’ flats, the plots, fresh-mown, are neat as wards. Granite headboards are inscribed with dates, jobs even addresses. Statues of status; storytellers. They die too young here. The flowers and toys imply all-day parties for departed friends: Daffydd, Ivor, Gwynne. These stones will conga until dawn, or line dance every Friday or … Continue reading ‘Cemetery in Powys’ by Helen Kay
‘November in Reykjavík’ by Cheryl Moskowitz
Last night I watched you breathing, listened to the graylags squabble, and caught what could have been gunfire but turned to fireworks in my head; a celebration. And in the dark – it is always so consistently dark – I tried to reconfigure time and wondered whether now, at 4:26 am, we should say … Continue reading ‘November in Reykjavík’ by Cheryl Moskowitz
‘The Fox and the Gravestone’ by Emily Blewitt
It was like a story I read. A fox became trapped between two gravestones. She struggled and corkscrewed but her muscles swelled up. She was stuck. Couldn’t budge. The air in her lungs became thin. She shook like a frightened rabbit. She was photographed, petted. Children snatched at her coat. She bit them away. … Continue reading ‘The Fox and the Gravestone’ by Emily Blewitt
Two Poems by Jill Abram
Aftermath I sleep alone but never in pyjamas not since you cast them from my bed in not-quite-mock horror. You wouldn’t let me turn off the lights as you stepped back to get a good look at my body, its bulges. Your hands roamed my skin (bristly in places), your tongue explored spaces I … Continue reading Two Poems by Jill Abram
‘Thirst’ by Samuel Tongue
you come cold from the sea and i am a wrecked sailor, licking saltwater pearls from your blue breasts. i am gone salt-mad with thirst. my mouth wants the sea inside you. your bright belly is an upturned boat and i am keel-hauled. i suck air and our ribs catch. i am swollen and … Continue reading ‘Thirst’ by Samuel Tongue
Two Poems by Ruth Stacey
Bullet Claude Debussy wants to tell me something. He smiles; I paint his music and his dreams are now visible. Musical notes as paint. Symphonic sketches. The last note is D♭. The people who dwell there enter the scene, they wander idly from group to group. Stifle my thoughts. The air is in the … Continue reading Two Poems by Ruth Stacey
‘Please Do Not Touch the Walrus or Sit on the Iceberg’ by Caleb Parkin
Please Do Not Touch the Walrus or Sit on the Iceberg Horniman Museum, Summer 2019 So, I clamber up, on top of the fibreglass plinth, rise from the chevrons of the parquet floor as though it melted into thick-cold waves and I emerge, triumphant and substantial, hear my epic … Continue reading ‘Please Do Not Touch the Walrus or Sit on the Iceberg’ by Caleb Parkin
