I range between the changewild and freeit canbetiptoeing in the moonlight glowinghalf kissedhalf missedlibertyrushes in my heartlikea symphony. Janine Himler Janine is a 24-year-old poet from Austria. @phija_poetry_writing

Scoop it up with your hands as it trickles down a sleepy river Styx, blow on it until the ripples morph into Posiedon’s tidal wavesPluck it from the laurel wreaths but beware of tasting its doubled-tongued berries,cradle it between your calloused palms until it falls into a deep tranceShine it in front of a mirror to see the reflections echoing down … Continue reading Jessica Kim: ‘How do you catch a dream?’ →

I've always cared about you, and for once, this isn't my pride talking.You were more than just a trophy to me.I'm sorry I wasn't able to express that sooner.I sometimes wonder if you'll ever know that, but most likely not.I was always the more observant of the two of us, and I'm happy to keep … Continue reading Isabel de Silva: ‘The Confession’ →

The steam riseswith my hand – the glass of red presses my lips;thick ruby water in candlelight, I sipto the last year and to the next.My breasts tap the froth of wateras I sink lower into my slump. Knees raised,I reach for my black flannel drapedacross the side and plunge it intothe murky depths.Dripping wet, … Continue reading I. James: ‘New Year’s Eve’ →

Consume each other in love,but stand side by side.Let the life you live and breathe foreverbe made on your own, but together.Remember to give and receive plenty,and trust in the strength of your souls binding for eternity. I. James Isabelle is a 24-year-old PGCE English student at the University of Cambridge. Her Poetry has been … Continue reading I. James: ‘To the newlyweds’ →

My memories are very quiet these days: these days are slow and sloth-like, ignoring the news in the garden sun. Sober since the birth of this pandemic. Epic weight off to just sit and breathe in freshly cut grass and lids closed with an amber-curtain glow. I. James Isabelle is a 24-year-old PGCE English student … Continue reading I. James: ‘My memories are very quiet these days’ →

A heart like yours, I wonder, will it ever – just suddenly - stop beating? I cower to the shared fear of what is to, or may, be… I cover the rotting-dead thought of you with the black backs of my lids and my eyes cry, and my shoulders sigh you off of me quick. … Continue reading I. James: ‘A heart like yours’ →

I could pick you out of a crowd,but it hurts too much to try andremember your face. It’s buried in a shroud of my trauma.I’d studied it for so long, it’s likeI’m an old scholar with heartbreak-dementia:my mind’s shield is raised to protectme from the agony of our memories.We’ve lost cities, cafes, homes, cultures;our will. … Continue reading I. James: ‘I’ve forgotten your face somehow’ →