after Dorothy Parker “And rip the hearts of men in half And toss the bits away” - Dorothy Parker I dream too much of tearing your heart from the cocoon of your chest. I dream too much about revenge followed by redemption, for women, for … Continue reading Watch it burn
for Aimée Divisions had already been drawn before you were born — our blood would be thick but we were pulled from different rivers, silt running down our thighs: I remember the morning I held you, brushing distance from your brow and learning your name, just as you would learn mine — stumbling over … Continue reading Sand sisters
with you / or in your arms / with stones in my pockets / or kissing the sea. Alone / watching the sky / turn primrose pink / sprawled across the floor / giggling delirium / with alcohol in my bones. Sat at cliff edges / vertigo / wrapping cold hands / around my wrists … Continue reading Where I belong & things I shouldn’t say:
TIMEDEATH is the first collection I have read which is solely visual poetry and Jennings’ talent for the written word and their eye for visuals is a poetic, artistic treat. Only twenty pages, TIMEDEATH is a deliberate pacing of loss, trauma and grief. There is courage and sheer brilliance in how purposeful each piece is. … Continue reading Review of TIMEDEATH, Melissa Jennings
The smell of summer mud drifts in from the Estuary, invites itself into the village, wearing flowers for a crown. It proclaims June and beetles free themselves from my winter sleeves. And the bees, living in the chimney, bow and buzz in the ecstasy of the mud’s arrival; the tide singing along to … Continue reading I am June
I ask the crickets for their song; graze my palms across static wheat; invite the breeze to kiss my cheeks. I am adorned in the hum of life; a melody of perseverance, the thrum of legs raising an unending chorus. I eagle my arms left to right and fall into the long grass; a sea … Continue reading About crickets
after Olivia Snowdrop Imagine us / sat around a fire / the three of us / with darkness nestled / between our shoulders / between the years. Imagine aeroplane trails / above us / the impermanence of pollution / masquerading as clouds / the three of us / wishing we could float / and disappear. … Continue reading The three of us
MANEATER by Jean-Marie Bub goes beyond being a collection of poetry and prose. It is art. It is a safe space. It is a tool for survivors and it is a voice in itself. A voice which loudly proclaims, despite the pain, ‘I am here and I intend to stay.’ Bub treats her work and … Continue reading Review of MANEATER, Jean-Marie Bub
after Nâzim Hikmet I When we draw life, the pen never lifts from the ageing page. As trees, we move in circles, cycles - we lose everything and nothing, for the days we blossom green. Our hands will always wrinkle in the water, in the biting wind. We will always blush at the … Continue reading On Living
I wailed a welcome - baring ribs between my teeth. Adam’s. Before I crumpled, converted to sheets left in the cold to dry, dresses hung above steamy showers, creases pushing themselves away with nervous hands. I learned quiet. I learned how swiftly fire burns, not when played with but when held unflinchingly close to your … Continue reading A definition of womanhood
