Poetry

It goes on one at a time,
it starts when you care to act,
it starts when you do it again after they said no,
it starts when you say we and know who you mean,
and each day you mean one more.

Marge Piercy

Monday, 04 January 2021 09:50

Spirograph: an interview with Pauline Sewards

Written by Fran Lock

in Poetry

Fran Lock interviews Pauline Sewards about Spirograph, her latest collection of poems FL: Hi Pauline, thanks so much for agreeing to talk to me about your latest collection of poems, Spirograph. The title poem uses the conceit of the Spirograph Set to explore those moments of 'not quite repetition' in…

Saturday, 02 January 2021 14:01

The Case of George Nkencho

Written by Kevin Higgins

in Poetry

The Case of George Nkencho by Kevin Higgins If this boy had been more prudentlydropped into life on, say, a streetwith trees that throw out their annual yellowto make a welcome parade for the sun;had as childhood neighbours a Circuit Court judge whose front door had no letterbox, a Garda…

Saturday, 02 January 2021 12:01

Grieving the City

Written by Fran Lock

in Poetry

Fran Lock introduces three poets writing loss in London I no longer recognise this city. I map this city by what is missing. By which I mean, I map this city by what I miss, by whom I miss. There is a species of exile that Edward Said identifies as…

K2_PUBLISHED_ON Thursday, 24 December 2020 09:31

Emmanuel

in Poetry

Written by Fran Lock

Emmanuel by Fran Lock sometimes the sky fights me. sometimes the dayis a dogful of loss. sometimes the day is a desert,a prolonged and hopeless music. how the heart has timid discipline enough to make you retch,and i should gather in my wan rejoicing, stoneby stick, by feather by stone.…

K2_PUBLISHED_ON Sunday, 20 December 2020 10:17

Christmas 2020. It’s all about the loved ones

in Poetry

Written by Annie McCrae

Christmas 2020. It’s all about the loved ones by Annie McCrae but what about the sick onesthe bullied onesthe just about surviving onesthe unemployed onesthe struggling onesthe can’t cope any longer ones? And what about the lonely onesthe grieving onesthe drowning onesthe exploited onesthe abused onesthe trapped can’t leave ones?…

K2_PUBLISHED_ON Sunday, 20 December 2020 09:46

It’s hard to say ‘I love you’ to a Tory

in Poetry

Written by Louisa Campbell

It’s hard to say ‘I love you’ to a Tory by Louisa Campbell It’s hard to reason with people who make you so angryyou want to beat some sense into their cold, cold hearts.And why would anyone listen to someone who hates them?So, here you go: I love you, when…

Jacob ReesMogg Unicef

K2_PUBLISHED_ON Saturday, 12 December 2020 09:28

A Mayan Christmas

in Poetry

Written by Rip Bulkeley

A Mayan Christmas by Rip Bulkeley Fuck Easter, with just two pathetic deathswhile the third one's Dad fixes an escape.We haven't really done the hecatomb thingsince Nagasaki. Meanwhile the well-fed godsof Mesopotamia and Cambodia have beensneering at us. All right – Vietnam, Iraq,Afghanistan and that piddling Belgrano,but the truest slaughter…

Friday, 04 December 2020 19:29

The Sword and the Sickle: William Blake and class struggle

Written by David Betteridge

in Poetry

To celebrate his 79th birthday, David Betteridge writes about swords, sickles and class struggle I Have a slow look at the drawing shown above. Is it not an image that captures our eye, engages our intelligence, and feeds our imagination, springing as it does from the artist’s own eye and…

Friday, 04 December 2020 14:35

Amnesia of the Asylum-seeker

Written by Leah Fleetwood

in Poetry

Amnesia of the Asylum-seeker by Leah Fleetwood Who we were back then, it’s hard to recall:lawyers, actors, fruit-sellers at a stall;street-singers, clerics, or newssheet writers?How were we seen – kowtowers or fighters?Your need to process us is fair and no surprise – to thresh the facts from what you think…

Thursday, 03 December 2020 14:57

2020

Written by Tom Hubbard

in Poetry

2020 by Tom Hubbard Cardboard covers the flesh in a smitten street,While, immunised from sudden empathy,Flesh covers pasteboard as high chancers greetDank festivals of mediocrity.Their very bodies crust into a mask,And those who hark at them are marionettesOf paper that absorbs, who scarce will ask,And take no thought for future…