Their faces looked at me blankly - I asked them, 'How would you describe the world we live in?' For a while, the faces remained passive, circumspect, frightened of a Big Brother they hope does not exist. Then the words rolled off, clean, cut like shards of glass - impoverished violent ridiculous - rough diamonds … Continue reading Diamonds


Ten minutes of hail. Ten minutes of innocent discontent; wild eyed wonder of the great outside; which pours in blues and greens, hailstone pebbles and grey before spinning the clouds into gold. Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees UK Between the Trees US Available internationally

A curse

She had said the words ‘this will last forever’ so many times she had begun to wonder if they were a curse; a spell of Hecate’s making, a cauldron bubbling of squandered feelings - unrequited lovemaking and lonely screams into the wind. Photograph & poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees UK Between the Trees … Continue reading A curse

June: call for submissions

Free Verse Revolution is looking for submissions from new and regular contributors alike! 14 spaces left ❤


Free Verse Revolution endeavours to share the work of talented writers from around the globe every month, however, with only a limited amount of space I have decided to open up submissions to new writers/writers who have contributed once before. This is instead of calling upon the same writers each time, who all have busy schedules. I am hoping this call for submissions will source new talent as well as continue to share more work from writers we adore.

I accept poetry and short pieces of prose which interpret the theme of the month in some way, and only one piece from each writer; but you may send up to three pieces for consideration.

Submission guidelines:

Send your submissions to

June’s theme: Freedom

Interpret the theme any way you wish; you do not need to use the word as a title. Pieces may be previously published.

Submission format: poem/short…

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‘I’m sorry’

Actions have always spoken louder for you - if you could lace them with twenty-four carat gold, you would. Money bought love dripping from the chandelier. Rumpelstiltskin in the stable spinning gold for you to melt molten and consume. A dragon protecting its horde of teeth-cracking promises, strung like pearls. Medallions of self-worth and righteousness; … Continue reading ‘I’m sorry’