Acrostic by Sudeep Sen
(R.I.P. Derek Walcott: January 23, 1930 – March 17, 2017) Deep seas of yesteryears wash new froth on your home…
Links in the Chain
Kandinsky, Marc and Der Blaue Reiter, Edited by Ulf Kuster for Fondaton Beyeler Beyeler Stiftung, Wyss Foundation 2016 It…
Bread and Salt
The lighthouse was somewhere in the south of his country, that stood unused in the wet smoke that rose from…
Lemons in August
Mineral green Lisbons poised in the desert. I’m watching bees drunk with sun. A blistered leaf. Outside Phoenix, west of…
Whoever is Left to Count the Grain
And measure the rings Do not leave out the xylem Of mingling auras And the sap that adheres Our dream-laden…
The Copulation of Angels
When Milton spoke of the ‘copulation of angels’ And Lear said, ‘Let copulation thrive!’ They were praising the way that…
Looking at Michael Andrews
Michael Andrews: Earth Air Fire, Gagosian Gallery, 20 Grosvenor Hill, London, until 25 March 2017 The School of London has…
For Mary, Sotto Voce
Mary Cassatt painted mothers as monuments, well nourished, flourishing with their babies, with themselves, at the bath, in the nursery,…
The Long Passage
The herons of Netherton Woods are standing still to watch the stillness that hangs at the end of their bills.…
I Want to Find Nothing
First, you must get rid of absolutes: Those Sundays you had as a kid When you watched dust oat through…
Competence by Anna Kahn
There is nothing in this room for those who have not learned to sing without thinking, who don’t know where…
Poetry Prize 2017
As of midnight tonight (30th June 2017) this competition will be closed. The London Magazine has been home to some…
Poetry and the Public by Paul Gittins
The prestigious T.S. Eliot Award in January that kicked off the poetry establishment’s crowded calendar of poetry competitions served to…
Stranger, Baby by Emily Berry
Freud is dangerous territory for poets. He did more than just make his mark on the literature of the twentieth…
Bright Celestial Objects by Rebecca Goss
After Alison Watt, ‘Venus’ (2015) Their backs against the grass, she felt a pull, as if the leaves on the…
Madness by Patrick Cash
There’s a stream by the Avon ward Where I stand to watch the water flow And unwind the whirlpools of…
In The Split Screen of the Heart
What do you say when both here and two hundred ———and twenty latitude degrees away no one lines up on…
New England
From neon-lit cheap motels you hear the plainsong of the highway – the dogs and wolves of the hills,…
October Wood
Some niche: rested in planks with its own electric fingers hovering light to become our hands, caressing a mahogany…
A Different Kind of Prison & Philomel by Patricia McCarthy
A Different Kind of Prison They were always there at the window when I awoke, nostrils squashed against the pane,…
How’s your eldest? asked Andrew the barber.
Daily unwanted meetings On the underground train His black brush of a moustache glistening (Obviously dyed). He’d told me…
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