Sunday, February 23, 2025

The Source

Dindymene: A Dream

And on the seventh day, we found HER temple, feasted on HER sight. Enthroned. Flanked by mammoths on both sides. There, there! Berry-ringed fingers on berry-strung vines: vision clipped with paralysed sparrow...
Culture Flavius Covaci -

In the Beginning

I was alone with the earth and the sun before youcame along: there was...
Culture Flavius Covaci -

To Julian – Ella O’Shea

you’re enwombed within stone, this anchorhold,wool on your skin, the draught on your feetink...
Culture Ella O'Shea -

Mitosis

A letterA single-cell, Stuttering, Reoccurring, Scrap on /The page /Fragmented/Born from pain …A zygote...
The Source Isobel Estibeiro -
Latest

Four Children

"And I sat with my back to the skies as I mouthed out a prayer to the winds and imagined them ghosts; for where I sat, half-anaesthetised, four children had used to sit"

Essay Crisis

People often say that progress, is not always linear. and p r o g r e s s, sometimes doesn't always look like 2,000 words* (including citations) on a Microsoft Word document"

My Dog and Its Owner

"My dog had lost its collar in a cave, Whereto, through chasing night, astray it ran After my whistle panicked in its ears."

The Sword-Cross

"A warrior of Palestine Traversed with a Cross for sword, From Babylon to Jerusalem, Until he spoke not word."

Veraneio

"Raised in the endless, relentless summer of tropical living, snapshots of summer swamp my memories of childhood – beachside days, aching sunburns, blond locks tainted unflatteringly green by chlorinated pools."

On my white window ledge

'Now I see them yield to the light, papery and, with old age, translucent.'

Ode to an empty Oxford

"The quads no longer echo with passing, light-hearted exchanges or 3am stumbling returns from Hassan's."

The Sick Worm

Thy earthy tendrils long to prick The burgeoning bud.

KitKat

Lying down like an upset wine bottle, smeared across the floor

cry, tears

cry the way you cry when you reach the shore again

Hard Pressed

Why do I need to pick those flowers that are screaming, “I am alive!” to kill between the pages of a heavy book?

Movement

The energy in the trees was palpable- at once pulsating and swirling

Conversations with my Lover

The fat little curves of cats’ bellies, and stiff white peaks of egg.

Personal History

You want to understand how someone could be two people. Why you failed to recognise it at the time.

You

Regaining my youth only means losing you all over again.

At the Station

A laugh into the silence, a step into the stillness, and a single breath seems to make the station tremble.

En Attendant

So sit on the roof and watch remotely The wind that makes the spires dance there, slowly

round

of feeling directional

The Sheldonian

That is the beauty of the concert. Music threading its way in and out of the thoughts of a hundred vague spirits in the audience.

Unterwegs

So let us meet at the station, then, and what happens after we can decide again
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