His Bottom Lip by Rachel Long

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Clitoral, like finding a small, hidden part of myself in someone else. Nerve-wet, fleshy - for a white guy, and stained between life-lines with red wine gone black. Only this...

Towpath by Neil Burns

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I The Lagan - a muddy silt river - Barrel of roll-tide, ribs of clean branches Poke up water jutting. On the towpath I glean a warm wet...

Translated Love Letters by Andrew McMillan

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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...

Poetry | Full Fathom Five by Sylvia Plath

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Old man, you surface seldom. / Then you come in with the tide's coming / When seas wash cold, foam- / Capped: white hair, white beard, far-flung, / A dragnet, rising, falling, as waves / Crest and trough. Miles long [...]

Partita, 1968 by Hannah Lowe

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Partita, 1968 When the tabla and double bass are really moving the raga in full swing I think of when I used to run for hours, for...

The Lighthouse by Michael Shann

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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...

This Dark Art by Neil Burns

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This Dark Art If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow, and which will not. Speak. - Macbeth, Act 1...

Difficult Cup by Isabel Galleymore

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after Wu Hao’s Duke Cups The china cup is frilled at the rim like tired lace and all over it ceramic tentacles extend to whisper if you drink...

Lifesaving by Wes Lee

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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...

What Follows by Theophilus Kwek

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What Follows Deer cull, Wytham 7th February 2015 A moment’s pause before a fist of swallows spooks the sky above the nearest trees. Something shakes the fence-bound rows, bursts through...

Refugees by Manash Bhattacharjee

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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...
Replete by Maggie Butt

Replete by Maggie Butt

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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,...

Exile by Manash Bhattacharjee

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Exile “I rested my mouth on your memory” ~ Yannis Ritsos, from Diaries of Exile Night arrives like a cart You push it with motionless hands There is darkness But...

Evening Light

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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...

Giggles by Evdokia Charalampous

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With her eyes closed she has been staring at the lamps on the ceiling for days. By now they must look like Sufi dervishes whirling in white to...

Five Bullets for Sabeen Mahmud by Manash Bhattacharjee

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“Is it tomorrow, or just the end of time?” ~ Jimi Hendrix, Purple Haze Sabeen had a list of crimes to her name – She ran a...

The Cult of Isaac by M. G. Stephens

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THE CULT OF ISAAC We all know about Abraham, the great religions emanating from his skull, but what about Isaac, where is his world taken into theological thought, mulled...

For Calcutta by Manash Bhattacharjee

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As I leave for Calcutta I think the city Always that other city Its river Ganga Always my other river Howrah Bridge What a colonial cradle A Raj suspended Kipling's imperial joy Hoogly...

At the Nursing Home by Leland James

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—inside an old man vacant by the window Hold me occasionally for the light is fading and I can no longer see the hills that once rose...

Green by Chris Woods

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      My Kodak Brownie didn’t work but I have a picture of the green dress. The film was black and white, my memory is colour. We’d eaten our lunch...

Different Faces by Manash Bhattacharjee

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"I wonder sometimes where people store all their different faces." ~ Trina Nileena Banerjee The face he wears every morning Reminds him of his mother Combing his hair...

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

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(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...

Stripping Gaza by Manash Bhattacharjee

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For Najwan Darwish A lucky three-year-old Is Saher* Abu Namous If Gaza didn’t explode The world would have Known nothing of him Now he is all in reports One among the...

The Grandfather by Manash Bhattacharjee

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To Steven O’ Brien Grandfather Heaney dug deep Into his country’s soil Another man unlike him left home To burrow through an alien forest In search of enemies The alien...

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