The First Time They Lowered The Flags by Peter Ainsworth

The first time they lowered the flags The President bowed his head. The next time they placed flowers To mourn the dead. The time after that they held A...

Poetry | The Line by Fiona Sampson

White trunks divide the dark beside the line and in the dusk trees pause since if they do not move they cannot see themselves or know this moment has...

Lifesaving by Wes Lee

Lifesaving They don’t do it anymore, breathe into the mouth to save. We had learnt it reluctantly, lined up beside a recumbent dummy, waiting to take our turn to...

Men by Belinda Rule

I only like imaginary men, the ones who think my art is the most transporting thing they have ever seen, and I am exactly as hilarious as I actually, actually am. Even then,...

Eros and Asbo by Miles Burrows

As a man under a restraining order Still follows his ex about from day to day I stalk your shadow as if you could show up In...

Interview | Raymond Antrobus

Raymond Antrobus is a poet, educator, curator, editor and investigator of missing sounds, who is a founding member of Chill Pill as well as the Keats...

Spotlight II: Dostoyevsky Wannabe

The London Magazine has long been a champion of emerging writers and independent publishers, stretching back to the 1950s and 60s, when young writers...

Puddocks by John Greening

for SECH   Clare would have called these five red kites circling above dead or stag’s-headed oaks like iambs broken from a line of English pastoral by a name that signifies a deed...

Interview | Momtaza Mehri — Young People’s Laureate for London

Yesterday we spoke to artist and poet Momtaza Mehri, who has recently been announced as Young People’s Laureate for London, who will take over from poet and musician Caleb Femi in the role which was launched by Spread The Word Last Year.

Translated Love Letters by Andrew McMillan

From The London Magazine October/November 2009 Translated Love Letters from Norwegian oh love, doesn't the fact that the world is so big, laid out like ripe fruit make you...

Coming Thunder by James McAskill

When we stole the eggs from the barn that June  you said we held life in our hands.  Untrue I said as I carried a near...

What You Call Your ‘Winter Mode’ by Patri Wright

On the wicker chair I wait for the duvet’s rise: you’re just a mound, breath, as I worry over why, again, you’ve overslept. Could it be early...

Four Watercolours by Sudeep Sen

The London Magazine has been celebrating the life of our former editor, Alan Ross. An important figure in the literary world, Alan was known...
Replete by Maggie Butt

Replete by Maggie Butt

Replete Enough of beauty - I have devoured small boats curtseying at anchor, green palace-dotted hills swarming the spice-scented shore of Asia Minor. I couldn’t chew another mouthful of waves,...

Refugees by Manash Bhattacharjee

Refugees I know a thing or two about refugees – As a child I heard father say, “We were sleeping in the place we thought was our country, till the siren rang...

Archive | Poetry | The Wiper by Louis MacNeice

First published in the May 1960 issue of The London Magazine (Volume 7, No. 5). Through purblind night the wiper Reaps a swathe of water

Two Hundred Twenty a Kilo by Nabarun Bhattacharya, translated by Manash...

(Homage to Karl Marx) Nabarun Bhattacharya (23 June 1948 – 31 July 2014) On the floor of a slaughterhouse A butcher’s leg slips in the blood Crows go raucous...

Catalogue of Minor Extinctions by Tyler Raso

i. labrador duck  Sitting at a disrespectful distance— ---------back where they came from—gets defensive when blinking (like only ---------shepherds have a right to). welcoming wreckage to its homeland by ---------sailboat...

Khuda by Manash Bhattacharjee

Many times I passed by your house On my way to see my grandmother I paused before the large iron gates Expecting to catch a glimpse of...

Poetry | Under the Loquat by Peter Anderson

He had that majority under the loquat, rain falling like a god in gold, the breakthrough sun, and the spin on things, tar growing a fur. Loitered...

Poetry | A Series of Ekphrastic Poems on Eileen Agar’s Marine...

Suzannah V. Evans is a poet, editor, and critic. The following series of poems was inspired by a visit to the exhibition Virginia Woolf:...

The Lighthouse by Michael Shann

The Lighthouse Markhouse Road So far from the wine-dark sea, a displaced monument to faith and absurdity at the turn of a neat, Victorian street. Still, the treacherous rocks...

Evening Light

Evening Light Brave bat in a bowler hat Blood shot eyes question What time does this light Depart? The light descends elsewhere Its shadow rising here The bat changes into an...

Social Contract by Rachel Willems

The politeness, not leaving any butter in the jam, or jam in the butter, or shoes in the hall. Not leaving any residue of who did...

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