Ink Sweat & Tears is a UK based webzine which publishes and reviews poetry, prose, prose-poetry, word & image pieces and everything in between. Our tastes are eclectic and magpie-like and we aim to publish something new every day.
We try to keep waiting-time short, but because of increased submissions, the current waiting time between submission and publication is around twelve weeks.
If you have come here looking for more information on our ‘Uprising & Resistance’ Project in conjunction with Spread the Word and Black Beyond Data, please go here.
IS&T Shop
Buy Ink Sweat & Tears Publishing books and pamphlets here.
Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day
Previously featured
Sue Moules
I sell the postcard
of multi-coloured sheep
over and over again.
Layla Sabourian
We were happy people once. Not naïve, just animated, social, alive. We gathered constantly. We danced at weddings, at birthdays, at no occasion at all.
Recent Prose
Recent Haiku
News
‘At the Barbers’ by Stephen Chappell is the IS&T Pick of the Month for February 2026. Read and Hear It Here!
‘succinct, modest, affecting portrait of a good but constrained life’
‘simple but believable and moving, without being sentimental’
Word & Image
Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad
I am born of the folk of the tropical coasts,
salt-rimmed hands my inheritance. I trace
the vestiges of webs between my fingers—
folds printed with the pearlescent stripes
Filmpoems
Angela Yausheva
In the aftermath
When the dust is settled and silence restored
I can still hear your melody and recite each conversation word for word
Featured Poetry/Prose of the Day
News
‘At the Barbers’ by Stephen Chappell is the IS&T Pick of the Month for February 2026. Read and Hear It Here!
‘succinct, modest, affecting portrait of a good but constrained life’
‘simple but believable and moving, without being sentimental’
Word & Image
Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad
I am born of the folk of the tropical coasts,
salt-rimmed hands my inheritance. I trace
the vestiges of webs between my fingers—
folds printed with the pearlescent stripes
Filmpoems
Angela Yausheva
In the aftermath
When the dust is settled and silence restored
I can still hear your melody and recite each conversation word for word
Previously featured
Sue Moules
I sell the postcard
of multi-coloured sheep
over and over again.
Layla Sabourian
We were happy people once. Not naïve, just animated, social, alive. We gathered constantly. We danced at weddings, at birthdays, at no occasion at all.
Recent Prose
Recent Haiku
Picks of the Month
‘At the Barbers’ by Stephen Chappell is the IS&T Pick of the Month for February 2026. Read and Hear It Here!
‘succinct, modest, affecting portrait of a good but constrained life’
‘simple but believable and moving, without being sentimental’
‘Unexploded Bombs’ by Samantha Carr is the IS&T Pick of the Month for January 2026.
‘A very striking and thought provoking piece of work.’
‘I enjoyed how this reflected Plymouth’s landmarks (I’m from Plymouth) but also medical anxiety (which is a common theme in my life). Unsettling.’
‘Love Song for Snow’ By Michelle Diaz is the IS&T Pick of the Month for December 2025. With Audio!
I love the whimsical way this develops like a slowly falling snowflake
The snow is always real, tangible, down to the pleasure of making a snow angel and the numbness of hands; the sense of personal loss runs like a watermark through it; and the grief we are beginning to feel for a planet we are overheating haunts us with its presence too.
Reviews
Jeff Phelps reviews ‘Unsung’ by Emma Purshouse
Emma Purshouse’s third full collection of poetry is a tribute to the distinctive places and voices of the Black Country of the West Midlands…These poems are wry, often deadly serious.
Jessica Mookherjee reviews ‘Grey Time’ by Julia Webb
Julia Webb’s Grey Time, her fourth collection with Nine Arches Press, insists on the full weather of grief.
Zain Rishi on Meredith MacLeod Davidson
From the opening poem of Meredith MacLeod Davidson’s transpiration, we find ourselves in a landscape haunted by cycles of loss. ‘Anchorless / a boat bangs against sea-weathered pylons,’ and this same lack of purpose and the inevitably of decay is infused throughout the imagery of “Deltaville”.