Tony Rickaby





Tony Rickaby’s current practice reflects on walks around South London, where he lives. Recently he has written for Litro Magazine, Stepaway Magazine, ken*again, experiential-experimental-literature, Sugar Mule, The Whistling Fire and Fox Chase Review.  His book Detours was published in 2014.

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Words by Reuben Woolley, Image by Sonja Benskin Mesher



Reuben Woolley has been published in Tears in the Fence, The Lighthouse Literary Journal, The Interpreter’s House and Ink Sweat and Tears among others. A collection, the king is dead, 2014, Oneiros Books. A chapbook, dying notes, 2015, Erbacce Press. Runner-up: Overton Poetry Pamphlet competition and the Erbacce Prize, both in 2015. A poetry pamphlet on the refugee crisis, skins, 2016, Hesterglock Press.


Sonja Benskin Mesher:  I am a painter who writes, a writer that paints, a drawer on life, and landscape. … Watch me make things.  Am quite patient, hold my tongue, but can’t say multi-disciplinary. Easily I live here, in Wales,  Easily.  I have worked full time as a visual artist since 1999, and have spent those years exploring ways to communicate thoughts and concerns. Its not all you see on the surface, it goes deeper than that. When I work I remember  and try to make sense of it all.

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Word & Image from IS&T Editor Helen Ivory’s ‘Hear What the Moon Told Me’ launching tonight



Forty colour plates in 45 pages with the text, as Graham Rawle puts it, ‘carefully teased from long-forgotten books and reconstructed with serendipitous aplomb’. A true celebration of the poetico-visual, Helen Ivory’s ‘Hear What the Moon Told Me’ is being launched tonight at Anteros Arts Foundation in Norwich and is available from Knives Forks and Spoons Press here.  And you can read a sample here

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Word & Image from Marina Shiderova and Tom Phillips

























A tree in the forest

Below Sredna Gora
the bus stops at a garage.
Families without faces,
without names, take out
sandwiches and sit
on the grass. The mountains
have done nothing:
they’re waiting for their moment.

Only here distance collapses
and we can see, as clear
as the lines across our palms,
how the trees are convincing
themselves to stay put.

Below Sredna Gora,
in the vicinity of disputes
born of other stories,
it’s enough to spend
a little time at the roadside
and to stare until you can see
every branch and every leaf.





Marina Shiderova is a painter, illustrator and designer based in Sofia in Bulgaria. Tom Phillips is a poet and playwright based in Bristol, UK. For the last 18 months, they have been working together on the collaborative online project Colourful Star ( and produced two illustrated/animated children’s stories, Nicholas – The Stolen Reinder and The Adventures of Patch (x-ovation, Bulgaria).

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Colin Campbell Robinson




The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here.

Italo Calvino. ‘Invisible Cities’.



The proof is in the text.

He manipulates keys.

They hold plastic close, electronic skipping.


– Message me sometime.


She said thanks and left the rest to his imagination.

He was in the ether, didn’t really exist at all.



– I didn’t get it.

– I sent it.

– You can’t read it?

– Delete.

– Are you sure?

– Deleted.


No one has time.

It is written or is it?


Few words come down the line.


– I imagine you languishing.

– How could you?

She slaps down her receiver, breaks into tears.


Everything happens including…


The text is another message. Meaning in the touch.

We connect.


– I’ve known you for how long

– 3,250 seconds to be exact

Long as…

Long as…




She sent pictures of herself. They are stimulating.

The world is stimulating. The world is pornographic.

Paint it black, he says to girls in coloured clothes.


She says, come unto me or was it onto me?


You’ll be surprised to know this is fiction.


She reads his text, smiles, holds her head in her hands.


Spying, he’d call it spying.

She says she’s keeping abreast of current trends.


There will be change. I know what I know, can’t hide. She came down the line like a spider.

Networking, she called it, work-grouping.


This is a party line. Hold on for connection.

Your party is busy.


– Ring me on my work phone but whisper.


He’s making it up.  She makes up with one hand on the wheel and free.



Dart about like a moth. Death will soon come.

And he came quick as a genie offering sad wishes.


Have to keep it brief. No one has time.

Single-minded love to be loved.

She looks in many directions but there’s no diamond on the horizon.


Metal days, steely and iron-filled.

Gold feeds her fever.

Her fingers move faster.

She sends messages of empty expectation

like a heart scavenger.


Death comes all over her like a youthful lover.



Colin Campbell Robinson is an Australian artist currently living and working in the Celtic extremity of West Penwith. He has had his work performed and published in a variety of venues both in
Australia and Europe.

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Beth Phillips

Beth Phillips is an emerging writer who dabbles in documentary, illustration, poetry and short prose. Keen to expose her work to a hungry audience she explores and examines themes of older age, decay and the beauty within these.

Twitter: Beth Phillips@bethclaudiap

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Rob Stuart

A Concrete Cinematography Primer

III.Camera Movement

Rob Stuart is a media studies lecturer, filmmaker and light verse enthusiast living in Surrey. In addition to Ink, Sweat and Tears he has contributed poems to Light (USA), Lighten Up Online, Magma, New Statesman, The Oldie, The Spectator and Snakeskin

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