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Ada Wofford

Dive

She’d been working here since her daughter started grade school. She liked to keep busy plus they needed the money. Fifty-two, frail and thin. She kept her hair the same deep red it was when she was little. Glasses, a sweater, jeans. From behind you might mistake her for thirty but a life of smoking …

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Who Needs Literature

Who Needs Literature?

Who Needs Literature? ‘Literature is for dreamers. Pragmatists don’t need it.’ I was taken aback by this statement made by a digital-age hippie who moves to the tunes of her laptop and breathes through the techie circuitry. However, I couldn’t ignore the argument – literature isn’t a requisite to be competitive or productive in the …

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Absence Eased

Edward Lee -Absence Eased My daughter lives forty-eight kilometres from me in the house I bought with her mother, the house I still own; the family home, but I have not spent more than thirty minutes in it in over a year. My daughter’s mother, my ex-partner, lives there too. Forty-eight kilometres, not that far. …

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Gráinne Daly

London In July

Eastbound Platform 2 is a swirl of sticky air that smells of hot rubber and old breath. The Piccadilly Line map framed on the tiled wall the far side of the track reads destination Cockfosters. But it’s Gloucester Road for you today, not the end of the line. Nor Ealing Common, in itself a final …

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Issue 38 Editorial

Shirley Bell has decided to retire from her position at Editor-in-Chief of The Blue Nib. This marks a serious change for not only The Blue Nib magazine, but also our website, and our book publishing imprint, each of which benefitted greatly from Shirley’s care and management.  Publisher and Founder Dave Kananagh has decided to restructure …

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Poets and Writers

Strike

strike The farmers held Dead rats in their mouths, Wearing green loin clothes Hiding what is left of their pride. They sit in the capital city Waiting for some eyes to open, They sit for days Unblinking at the cold. Far away in distant lands Their crops have withered in the heat. Their children look …

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Poetry- Kate Ennals

An Invitation Come, Father, let’s wander London’s dark skies, sit by the river, watch dusk silt and slide, salute and swirl a glass of ruby red wine. Let’s toast civilisation, Forge radical ideas, unravel politics, range our voices across continents. Discuss Truth and Justice. I need your advice on The growth of greed and corruption, …

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Poetry- Clare Morris

A LEICESTER TRIPTYCH The Change:  2.15pm, 15/3/2018, Leicester Royal Infirmary And so you sat down next to her bed, With the bag of toiletries and magazines, your habitual offerings, (the ones now in the bottom drawer that burn your fingers to touch them) And she whispered with conspiratorial mischief about the matriarch opposite And you …

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Poetry- David Susswein

Biography I am a writer from the South of England, right at the bottom. I have tried all my life to write well, to communicate, to talk to others;I cannot understand any other reason to write.Envoi, DreamCatcher, Picaroon Poetry, ShotGlass Journal, Tuck Magazine, Dissident Voice,an anthology in Farsi/English ‘Where Are You From?’  and others have heard my …

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Poetry- Harry Dell

What’s False About Cracked Teeth? There are words I will not write here, and not the ones already locked up in lizard skin. No lock or clasp can contain them, or curtail their twitches and coils. They eke out like poisonous vapor, to not exist and rob saliva of snapped flight. Without the cross between …

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New Poetry -Roy Liran.

Beached boats at Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer He divides the canvas in unequal halves of equal size, a bladed horizon for skies and earth, for man and woman, rich and poor, birds and poets. The easel shifts on the burning sand, reacting to the brushes and to the knife’s applied pressure, causing lines to wobble, planes to interact. …

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