Pick of the day

Salty

‘David Salter,’ the woman said. She had his file in her hand, looking over the top of her glasses and scrutinizing him. Five-foot four with sandy-coloured hair, everybody at school called him Salty, but he was no longer at school.

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Story of the week

The Oil Refinery

You drive past the oil refinery on your way to work. It’s hard not to notice it; you can see it for miles from the motorway that curves round past it. Even if you try to look the other way, say at the Kelpies; the two domineering steel sculptural horse heads wriggling in their silent agony as you pass, your head still automatically turns back like a magnet to the refinery.Read more

Poem of the week

time travelling

at woods' edge

shadow-silt nestles

lumps of amber air

floating ballrooms

where midges dance

brief lives away

since before words

 

on one side sun warm

reed beds rough

hedgehog pelt

under an unseen warbler's

silksong rippling

the clearing's still

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Features

A New Anthology Now Crowdfunding on Unbound

An anthology of short stories in aid of Grenfell Tower and Trauma Response Network. Read more

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POETRY MONTHLY

Posted by Insertponceyfrenchnamehere on Fri, 01 Sep 2017

Poetry Monthly – September

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Bee's Journey

Picks of the Month

Submerged

The telly is not working so I forced myself to write a poem.

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This is My Rifle . . . This is My Gun

What do you most fear in war?

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