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
Category: Poetry
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
Two Poems by Lydia Harris
Quadrangular Hand Bell I swing my body to the clang of my tongue, dip into copper to sweeten my tone, hang over the door for my voice is a song. Three rivets at sunrise fasten me down with a loop at my head to wrap fingers round. Grip me with a thumb, let my … Continue reading Two Poems by Lydia Harris
‘I Write to You from a Tree Museum’ by Heidi Beck
‘They took all the trees And put ’em in a tree museum’ —Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi The exhibit is fully interactive. I sit on a chair (Maple), resting my arms on the sturdy wide plank (Red Oak) which I use as a desk. On my right, a pencil … Continue reading ‘I Write to You from a Tree Museum’ by Heidi Beck
‘Blackbird’ by Fokkina McDonnell
There’s a blackbird on the wooden fence. It looks left, then right, stretches up and its yellow beak plucks an orange berry from the pyracantha. It looks left, then right, another berry, and one more. It flies off. My caravan at Birch Path 41 has been my home since March. The pyracantha, planted eight … Continue reading ‘Blackbird’ by Fokkina McDonnell
‘The Aerialist’ by Cheryl Pearson
She married the heir was what they said. I was four, already in love with the ballroom’s cornices, the bride’s dress. What I heard was married the air. I chose my future then. The air is a good provider. He has given me one house of sky, one house of silk. I love his … Continue reading ‘The Aerialist’ by Cheryl Pearson
‘Let all the bells of London sing!’ by Nick Sorensen
Let all the bells of London sing! St Clements, Stepney, Aldgate, Bow Across blue skies your chimes take wing From shade-filled churches far below St Clements, Stepney, Aldgate, Bow Shoreditch peals in chorus calling From shade-filled churches far below Treble down to tenor falling Shoreditch peals in chorus calling Clapper tongues in towers aspiring … Continue reading ‘Let all the bells of London sing!’ by Nick Sorensen
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