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@hyyacinthus
After a wonderful first issue, we thought weād just remind you that submissions are still open. Weāve a pretty good idea of what the next issue is going to feel like & we canāt wait to share it with you!
Weāre also now accepting art, fiction & non-fiction as well as poetry, which weāre really excited about. You can check out our full submission guidelines here: www.hornandivory.co.uk/submissions
Feel free to email us any questions & queries at [email protected]
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
ā”ļø If you're not overwhelmed with these :0
never mind the galaxygive me a room condemned with light,
so heavy the floorboards splinterlike lightening. a tele-
kaleidoscope facing inwards notout. & oh! those hosts of
celestial bodies & oh! how none ofthem are ours.
send me a Ā ā” (@myth-boy) and Iāll write you a poem
inspired by my love @santapescadora, send me a ā”ļø & Iāll write you a short poem!! it may take me a while to get to all of them cause I want to do them well but I will do them!!
BAPTISMS: A BEGINNING
Due to the hard work of theĀ Horn & Ivory team and our contributors, the first issue is now live! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted, weāre thrilled to have you as a part of what weāve been doing. On this tumblr weāll be posting updates & our favourite parts of the issue as well as some other fun stuff. We received some truly stunning work and we canāt wait to share more of it with you over the coming weeks. Weāll also be hosting a short interview with one of our contributors over the coming days, so stay tuned! The first tendrils of the next issue are starting to take shape already. We donāt know what itās called yet, but weāre sure itāll let us know when itās ready. In the meantime, you can read Issue I: Baptisms here.Ā
A super cool project is coming to your screen this summer about heat & truth, lies & dreams. So, if you write poetryāor anything elseāand like vague & ephemeral projects, you should totally get involved & submit here.
There are seven days left to submit to the first issue, but we accept submissions on a rolling basis & we look forward to hearing from you!Ā š
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
A super cool project is coming to your screen this summer about heat & truth, lies & dreams. So, if you write poetryāor anything elseāand like vague & ephemeral projects, you should totally get involved & submit here.
There are seven days left to submit to the first issue, but we accept submissions on a rolling basis & we look forward to hearing from you!Ā š
a short list of stars that died this year | eliel vera [@myth-boy]
Working on this has been such a joy, and Iām so grateful I got the chance to do it. (full view, please!)
SautillƩ
rosehip oil. honey-soaked lips. searching honeycomb caverns for a wide enough tomb to hide my body.
moonlight and fitted hips. I suffered silently among the bluebells to fold green stems into crowns. held my own coronation in the open fields.
white sheets. summer cities. open plains that I can call healing or forgetting. I get confusedāwhen they both feel like drowning.
some people are built for healing. gentle spines that bend towards sunlight. lemon tea and woodsmoke eyes.
roots that sink into the earth like grateful green fingers searching for water when itās 110Ā° in the middle of winter.
SautillƩ
rosehip oil. honey-soaked lips. searching honeycomb caverns for a wide enough tomb to hide my body.
moonlight and fitted hips. I suffered silently among the bluebells to fold green stems into crowns. held my own coronation in the open fields.
white sheets. summer cities. open plains that I can call healing or forgetting. I get confusedāwhen they both feel like drowning.
some people are built for healing. gentle spines that bend towards sunlight. lemon tea and woodsmoke eyes.
roots that sink into the earth like grateful green fingers searching for water when itās 110Ā° in the middle of winter.
How old are you?
im a neat 19
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
under the hum of the cicadas a fist meets a face / and all of a sudden teenage angst is a spectator sport / all of a sudden violence is just another word for love
Memory and Other Sharp Things, Eliel Vera (published in L'ĆphĆ©mĆØre Review Issue III)
you have more hands than a child trying to catch the cool rain / which, in february, holds just a second too long in the sky / as if deciding whether or not itās time to come down. or
if this is another day for staying in bed. & you say / ānot everything is pathetic fallacy / the weather is not about you / the sky is not always about you.ā / & maybe not but Iām not
the only one who prays for winter anymore. when I talk about grey clouds / I picture you on my window- seat / a replica marble david we had to break in half to fit inside the display case. & I try and talk
about the window even though we both know thereās nothing to say. just like how / when the snow piles up past the door you can turn the handle / but thereās nowhere to go. I want to talk about the dark
& the colour & the faint blue of your fingertips. / but you remind me of something you did last night / when the ice was just starting to form and the coldest
place in the house / was the 3 centimeters between my reaching hand and your broad back. you like the sternum before the first incision & the oak before acorns start to
grow. you climbed out of bed in the untouched morning to look at something pure. listen to meāIām trying to tell you something important / about how much this youngness hurts.
Eliel Vera, My Last Thought Before We Skidded Off The Road for the prompt ādriven snowā, @nepenthenet
badly scanned reboot of my previous thing based on a post by @postāgrad!! thought Iād actually have a day off today (which didnāt happen) but Iād committed myself to doing this so here we are, at 2:23am.
if you prefer the rustique charmā¢ of the other one lmk because that can be scanned too
anyway I love my son jtk
All the Things I Promised You, by Eliel Vera
a safe place for poets to share their work, receive feedback & support, and eventually create a collaborative chapbook or two
to apply
must be following me
reblog this post
fill out this form (sorry)
i will choose 10-15 members, depending on the amount of entries, on january 6th
you must be willing to participate in the network
if accepted
iāll send you a message asking for some things
you will get a spot on the members page
you can start tracking & posting to #softpoetsociety
new friends! & you will have access to the groupchat (on telegram)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
I loved a boy with rose-wine lips and ivy soft in the bend of his elbow. now I cannot walk through the folds of a garden without the earth whispering his name. look at how the stones hold his body like a secret / at how the sun keeps the colour of his eyes. watch the trees sigh his hands to the breeze, with the starlings flying gentle over rome.
Eliel Vera from Birds and Other Portents (via myth-boy)
When I add dying to the list of things I have to do today, it means Iām already bleeding / that the knife has already found a home in my skin. So tell me how the ache starts gentle in the soles of your feet, and brushes softly the arch of your spine. My new mouth is a temple of lies and I donāt want to talk about it. I canāt. Let me wander blue streets like a spirit come back to life. Look at how the moon is dying tonight! Look how the streets are like labyrinths tonight! Look at how everything stands still and how my second hand is one of many things not breathing tonight! Curled up in the shower with the radio on / window open / eyes shut / feeling the static lining my lungs. The phone rings and I donāt move. Is there anything left to feel guilty for?
Eliel Vera, from Dusk (via myth-boy)
