“Potpourri” by Ivor Steven.

I have a visiting bluebirdStanding in my potpourri bowlBathing in aromatic leavesSinging a reverieAbout her dying treeAnd I join in, with her plea“Trees are the air we breathFeeding us food and seedNourishing land and seaPlease let us grow and breed.” In the morning mistBeside the potpourri dishThere, the bluebird is lyingI see her sad eyes [...]

in their dying, in their shadows.

In their dying in their shadows I will see your eyes. As the blood-flow             of living things, dear white shells and white bone fall into the ground, mama’s bony fingers             whiten the earth,                                     where all else fades and leaves; daddy glissades in the ice             picking flowers for us all, and soon [...]

“Humour Don’t Sell Papers” by Don Matthews.

I’ve just read today’s paper It’s full of doom and gloom Murders, killing, destruction, death Children being groomed Headlines blare out constantly SEX FIEND IS EXPOSED There’s so much negativity (The paper I have closed) Why can’t I read, enjoy myself With lots of humour, rife? Instead of being subjected to This gutter side of [...]

Kevin Morris Guest Post.

I am very happy to have a guest post on here by poet Kevin Morris. It not only features his amazing work but as well a bit of background on how nature influences his poetry. Please continue reading below, and do check out his links to find more of his publications and work. As well, [...]

“Redemption in the Water” by Hannah Faulkner.

drown in egoism. how we forget – don’t. for flicker- shift this shell ashore, revive the rolling carcass and dissect, drag that black heart with the colour waves, bleaching comatose vanity that presses with weight of our bodies- we sunk like sinking stripping skin for river, it rowed, it rowed, wrapped with those oars wallow, [...]

For that is only what we seek.

The roads, the valleys, the ripened dreams in solidarity, To a handful weaved of a ghost aubade in speech Evoking contingent flames unmourned, and embraced As the shaken birth from the morning, I starve the feathered dreams, As I no longer follow through with the nightlong autumn near the glass, I hope we don’t forget [...]

Look at all the eyes.

Look at all the eyes of humanity and light cry into blood-welling forgotten in unbridled free verse; around the corner that last breath in the mirror moves in dream and desire nigh to each taraxcum dandelion flowering over mother’s relics; another death under the stars. Into the darkest shadows, in murderous torpor, times of the [...]


Solitude arrayed in language  unnoticed in its death, as the leaves survive  the siege of winter, taloned with wounds rejoicing in the wind. In my dreams, there is silence as the flowers die through our eyes; whispers held, empty, beneath our feet of the grey stone, leave a rock  after death they exist unlike flowers [...]


tyranny  blinded by the ghost of an isthmus, dark eyes fed upon your laugh like a poison  to surge, the chill  when you look at me; the dust of the horizon shapes cruelty. Reaped in the quiet like a violent beast as solitude precedes covering the ashes blistering on the pale shore this void of [...]


you'll always be alone in the city; gone, the final breath in the icy mouths the secret of a lover, in the absence of morning and the affinity of dark at night; a fucked up dream stares left in its presence in the old city lights, warmer than the protestation that rebels against animal bones [...]

Traces by the horizon.

Winter falls away, traces never ending like the tattered twilight  alone; the serpent’s blood  betrays the sea of lovers that fall upon the memory one by one. In blue wailing of the sea glare white diffused with ivory bone meeting the whisper of cold silence, the exile of our ghosts, the depth of language when [...]

You or I.

lament in autumn grief, a shadow of a touch leafing as bones; empty windows and shops, isolation of sense when there is none left for you or I, for you or I as the river leaves in the wind it is a paradox in the cold. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

mauvaises terres.

mauvaises terres. I. The Old Line. We drink red tea in the winter and summer by the pale, ocean shore with rain feeding on the sunlight with coffee beans, and spoke in broken languages to each other originating from your father in different countries of Europe, he speaks almost a dozen languages. You wished he [...]


dreams in the Sahara insanity in the flamenco acedia, I linger in the ocean floor, stripped in fertile silence as frost knows death better than I. the typhoon, the sailor it festers the dying beast of the albatross and the ocean sea. she’ll kiss the divine blue waves with fury, summoning the wind’s womb; in [...]


nude into the enraptured  forbidden sea, behalf the whisper, its madness in autumn at its wake, unknown into the burial of yellow roses, in the tears of ghostly sands, tossing from forgotten sea light silhouetted against torn anamnesis these shadows of our time, in etiolated remembrance, our memories are hidden. the sanctity of blood that [...]

Awake (Draft).

In an age                         of watching…             through a mind suffice                         in icy tombs; What word through our own,             to have finally sought                         the black star             that was the world we lived                         sleepless. And, awake.                         Drifting… Silence bare                                     on the dark mid-sea.                                                 The peony masking light [...]

Ghost street.

A leaf falls Into the monsoon shadows. I turn by the grazed branches Trembling by the dark windows Into the blustering  Of frost and the muzzled crystals that lay Into the black linen on the ground. We are alone in the patters of wind, Hear; each turn of the rock, And see our hands  Restless [...]