We’re going to have a baby, I told your father, just days since I’d felt his ribs slot like coins between mine. We were toeing a mountain trail, me dancing towards the edges, him gripping the cliff face like a scattering fern. He stopped, looked out at […]
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Rivers Joining

Poem by Graham Mort

PUBLISHED ON: 28/07/20

CATEGORY: Poetry

Freshwater mussels, coffee bean brown, cleaned by oyster catchers that jostle where the Wenning brunts the Lune. We gaze upstream at the Howgills, the …

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Algorithm

PUBLISHED ON: 28/07/20

CATEGORY: Poetry

i.m. Michael Wessells   The phone rings because Michael has died. I saw him yesterday and said goodbye as he passed behind me, tall, gathering hi …

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Women’s Rights

Poem by Amirah Al Wassif

PUBLISHED ON: 28/07/20

CATEGORY: Poetry

Don’t try to introduce my skin to your skin cause such introduction doesn’t let the light get in. Don’t try to prove me as your servant while getting …

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Advent

Helen Mort

PUBLISHED ON: 07/05/19

CATEGORY: Poetry

On the first day of Christmas, they hauled you from me with the forceps while a crimson Santa blinked outside and made the rain new blood. The second …

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The Runner

Abeer Ameer

PUBLISHED ON: 07/05/19

CATEGORY: Poetry

Not sure when she hit the wall; the beginning of unending unfolds to full halt. Alone with faces and sounds she knows. A sea of heads and limbs around …

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The Dentist

Abeer Ameer

PUBLISHED ON: 07/05/19

CATEGORY: Poetry

She wants to take a good look at the Najaf dentist who asked for her hand in marriage. It’s unbecoming she borrows her mother’s black poochiya. Mighty …

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My Welsh Wool Coat

Amy Wack

PUBLISHED ON: 07/05/19

CATEGORY: Poetry

is the colour of sunrise over Castle Hill in a town called ‘little fort of the fishes’, my Welsh wool coat, with its too-short sleeves, its dense weav …

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Cave Songs

Paul Henry

PUBLISHED ON: 07/05/19

CATEGORY: Poetry

Cat, you’ve caught me inland sending you this faint light from Gounod’s old torch. I am inside the limestone cave where a white fish survived on darkn …

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Camera Obscura

Tracey Rhys

PUBLISHED ON: 07/05/19

CATEGORY: Poetry

Everything is backwards in the dark room. The pale disc at the centre is a moon before the pastel cars and buses become clear. The roads are familiar …

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