© 2019 All rights reserved. Iceberg Tales.

February 23, 2020

Unused swords rust

like your feather quill,

dipped in dry ink,

that scars the paper;

leaving marks that do not last,

merely dent the page,

when words were meant

to cut through.

You ask for the world,

but you don’t have to.

Your words belong on the altar –

you kneel, exhausted,

in...

February 8, 2020

- after Chen Chen

Rest among the samphire.

Hum poseidon under your breath.

Practice how to breathe underwater.

Vex the sand. Disrupt it. Become it.

Crunch it between your toes.

Adorn yourself in oyster tongues.

Go far. Go farther.

Excavate where others have been before.

Bl...

November 6, 2019

today is no different to yesterday

because the shaking in his veins hasn't subsided yet,

because his trousers still crumple (no matter how they are hung),

because he still has a hair for every

thinning, grey year he stays alive.

he wonders if cafes mock him

for always lea...

October 17, 2019

Februaries are made of forgotten things: one glove left on a park bench from overly warm fingers, one lover lying in an empty bed sans the yearly valentines card, one box of Christmas chocolates hidden at the back of the cupboard behind a bag of oats. It was the month...

September 30, 2019

Today, we have just released our first print edition of Iceberg Tales for online pre-orders! 

Thank you to everyone who has supported the project, contributors and friends, and we hope you enjoy our celebration of poetry and short stories in print. 

Pre-orders will...

August 14, 2019

When Smyrna fell, we rose from the chairs

our grandfather made and grew unsure

what to call ourselves. We—who’d always

broken bread with them and stuttered

strange Turkish vowels—

found ourselves nervous at the picture

window watching their horses and soldiers

leaping at the...

July 28, 2019

      There was no doubt he’d changed. People felt repelled by him. His instinct had become rage. He knew it, but pretended he didn’t. Everyone he met felt the heat. Something could go off at any minute. People don’t need that. People seek the shadows when fires burn t...

June 26, 2019

They are never so beautiful as now:

lustrous with light and water,

a succession of small startles

shining in the dun matt sand.

Blown bubbles wander up

from the waveline, skate on waterfilm

which holds the piebald sky,

the adolescent April sun.

I walk on blue-white heavens.

I b...

June 15, 2019

Come The Tide is the debut collection of short stories from Sam Reese and is published by Platypus Press. The collection has received universal praise and acclaim; fellow writer Pradba Yoon claims that "stories like these can make existence feel convincing, and creatio...

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