Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Dick Jones- New Poetry
BERTRAGHBOY BAY Where the ironstone wall
gathers fuscia and salt;
where the swifts stitch blue
air to the scrub-grass; where
herring gulls mob the heron;
where cormorants hang wings
on the...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Poetry from Sandra Horn
Sandra Horn is a writer based in Southampton. She has had poems published in Artemis and Magma magazines and in several anthologies: Lines in the Sand, Write to be Counted, Dancing in the Chequered Shade, the Emma Press Book of Age, the Writers’ Cafe and Some Cannot Be Caught: the Emma Press book of Beasts._____________
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Poetry- by Fiona Perry.
Post navigation
Distillation Now I have the puddle
Wax of a thousand
Blessed candles burnt In a kitchen shrine
Your last upright
Embrace cushioning me Comforts to conjure
No more sinewy
Morphine cries or Muted...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Iain Twiddy- Poetry
PRACTICE RUN I’m looking through a cold bedroom window
hedgehogged with condensation at a rose bush
pricked with autumn frost, though still glowing red
like the sting that...
Seanchaí: With Lydia Renfro
The Cabinet of Immortal Wonders – Diana Powell
Jean-Baptiste Bécoeur is dancing with the flamingo again. A waltz – the dance has slunk across the border into Metz, even as far as...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Emma Lee reviews Lady Jesus and Other Poems.
Lady Jesus and Other Poems Arathy Asok (Authorspress, www.authorspressbooks.com ISBN 978-93-88332-19-4, 70pp, 175 Rupees/$14) "Lady Jesus and other poems" is a collection of contemporary, unflinching poems that...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Emma Lee- New Poetry
A SMUDGE OF CINDERS My teacher looked at me as if breezeblock
wasn't a word she knew.
I had pushed my sock down.
It was itching the scabs...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Poetry- Clara Burghelea
Process of Detachment I expect my son will let go of me when he’s five.
I will go back to just being Clara.
So ready to unspool...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
New Poetry- Edward Lee
IN THE DARKNESS THERE IS REST In the wall
above every bed
I have ever lay upon
there is a window
so well hidden
not even the night
can find it,
leaving...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
PACT by Jessamine O Connor.Reviewed
Jessamine O Connor is a Dublin born poet living on the Sligo Roscommon border in the west of Ireland. She facilitates The Hermit Collective...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Strike- Arathy Asok
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...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
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...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Of Buses, Bombs and Bartholdy – Clare Morris.
Of Buses, Bombs and Bartholdy I love allusions – can’t get enough of them. Put it this way, if allusions were gallons of bath water,...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Parallel Lines
We were stuck. Stuck in our marriage, stuck in our lives, stuck in this fucking car. ‘How could you be so stupid?’ he said. Five minutes...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
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...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
The Depth of Ambition- Anna Hayes
The structure rose up in front of us, like a giant, half-decapitated ‘X’ marking the spot. Of what, I didn’t know. This didn’t look...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Poetry from David Bankson
Chartreuse I regret,
like coiled flowers I burst when loosed,
but the loosing is part of who I am. I could never stop that sort of liquid:
a river...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Anne Pia – Translation…. an Act of Seduction
What makes for a good translation? What are the boundaries between translation and authoring? What skills should a translator possess? Beyond the mechanistic replacing...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
You’ll Die as Fish- New Fiction- Susan Anwin
"May I help you?" The woman, her phone stuck to her ear, was one of those businesswoman-types, discreet although expensive-looking earrings, dark hair smoothed back...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Katrina E. Halfaker- Poems
the midwest one broken white scale on a rubber dumpster lid hints;
when opened, within and under peeks a takeout burger bag
and styrofoam cup, probably full.
last...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
James Fountain- New Poetry
Empty Highway Home The road is clear, but for the weather
lashing down liquid intermittently, my wipers
doing overtime at midnight, after a John Mayall
gig in Stoke,...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Leela Soma- New Poetry
Mother tongue Pollen drenched, the rain in the bark,
The roots deep in sepia earth, boughs
And branches thick with green leaves
The young shoots from the fallen...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Thomas Bailey- New Poems
Thomas Bailey is 21 years-old, and lives in London. He is currently studying English at Cambridge, and is editor of his college's annual poetry...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
David Ratcliffe – Poetry
Slipping his moorings Less than an hour earlier,
he’d knelt thumbs crossed;
on failing to receive a signal
he slid solo on a one-way voyage,
slipping his moorings
with no...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Steps Leading Nowhere- Essay
It's hard to choose which one of my travels had the biggest impact on me – I've been to 35 countries (36, if you...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Denise O’Hagan- New Poetry
A Stain the Shape of Italy It’s when I least expect it
Stilled in a queue, perhaps,
Or stalled at traffic lights,
That the fingers of my memory
Pick...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
James Walton- Poetry
Rap, rap, rap, rap, ill tidings call It came like rain on windows
a specimen in a jar,
the lid too tight for breathing.
I fumbled through the...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Sally McHugh- New Poetry
Blue Atlas Tracing the grids of the blue atlas
my finger runs down the page,
charting the north Atlantic ocean,
Lisbon,
Africa with its Sahara winds blowing,
Freetown.
Latitude, longitude, lines criss-cross,
I...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Poetry- by Micah James Bauman
Love conquers all says the unbroken heart
the playful, unbroken heart
as love stands over me
in a gas station restroom
I dance before the mirror
to an unfamiliar pop...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Karen Poppy- New Poetry
Hello, Goliath I will write you
As I know you.
Finally, I'm not afraid. Sharp light of your being,
Come toward me.
You can dance, laughing.
You can tell lies.
You can...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Philip Dunkerley- New Poetry
Burt’s Bees
i.m. Burt Shavitz, co-founder of Burt’s Bees, d. 2015, aged 80 Weary of the push and frenzy of Manhattan,
Burt lit out in his old...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
New Poetry- by Anne Walsh Donnelly
My Therapist and her Bumble Bee It circles overhead, like a drone,
as we revisit childhood wounds, talk of adult loss
and all that lurks in the...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Bev Smith- New Poetry
the art of casting shadow i love that age is slowing you
i might can catch you now
between
the light and dark
before it falls
and the twilight that...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Fiona Sinclair- New Poetry
Evanescence You claim not to dream.
But I know some nights,
during REMs anarchy,
your body jolts as if defibrillated,
your whimpers chill more than screams.
I do not wake...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Caron Freeborn- New Poetry
Caron Freeborn 1966 - 2020 Arrhythmia
When I was a little girl I worried about infinity –there’s a galaxy beyond this one and then beyond that...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
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...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
Emma Lee reviews Christine Valters Paintner’s – Dreaming of Stones
Christine Valters Paintner's "Dreaming of Stones”
Paraclete Press www.paracletepress.com
ISBN: 9781640601086 96pp $18 “Dreaming of Stones” is split into six sections, Hours, The Time of Our Lives,...
Issue 37 | March 2019 |
A Village Street in Winter- Ruth Brandt
For a couple of days that winter it blew warm. Half our street, the south facing half, glinted with ochres and terracottas in the...
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