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Posts by Amsterdam Review

The latest acquisition was a pair of Egyptian white geese he bought on Craigslist. “You only find them in Asia, so it’s incredible I got them. You get $175 for a cygnet. You know, the babies.” “I know what a cygnet is, Mark. It’s a baby swan, not goose.” “Anyway, now I’ll have another stream of income. Last month, I made more money than I’ve ever made in my whole life. And with these geese, I can take you back to Paris. You remember Paris, Darling, when we drank absinthe at Le Dôme? Or the time you fancied the young American airman at the canteen when you were covering the blitz for your column in the Herald during the air raid, and we ended up ducking under the same table?”

The latest acquisition was a pair of Egyptian white geese he bought on Craigslist. “You only find them in Asia, so it’s incredible I got them. You get $175 for a cygnet. You know, the babies.” “I know what a cygnet is, Mark. It’s a baby swan, not goose.” “Anyway, now I’ll have another stream of income. Last month, I made more money than I’ve ever made in my whole life. And with these geese, I can take you back to Paris. You remember Paris, Darling, when we drank absinthe at Le Dôme? Or the time you fancied the young American airman at the canteen when you were covering the blitz for your column in the Herald during the air raid, and we ended up ducking under the same table?”

"I was in love, and he insisted that he was too. Only he was a tease, and I wasn’t. Only he was lazy, and I wasn’t. Only he was gay, and I wasn’t."

Read 𝑇𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑜 𝐵𝑙𝑢𝑒, a story by 𝗗𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿 in the Spring issue

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#writingcommunity #essays

6 hours ago 8 2 0 1
Human disaster is contagious, so I’m left alone, like I thought I wanted. Self-pity says no one wants a sinking ship of a woman, rafting on hate for how much what she knows she keeps taking. No heartbreak or inspiration to sell as end goal, rarely beauty. Instead, indictment and unrelenting grief, pain and identifying purpose, blame and sour shame—all wounds that won’t heal. World won’t let the stitches set before landing another blow—no entertaining real solutions. Outside the self the reckoning bulks up like a recurrent tumor. Or a monstera

Human disaster is contagious, so I’m left alone, like I thought I wanted. Self-pity says no one wants a sinking ship of a woman, rafting on hate for how much what she knows she keeps taking. No heartbreak or inspiration to sell as end goal, rarely beauty. Instead, indictment and unrelenting grief, pain and identifying purpose, blame and sour shame—all wounds that won’t heal. World won’t let the stitches set before landing another blow—no entertaining real solutions. Outside the self the reckoning bulks up like a recurrent tumor. Or a monstera

"I can’t help how my brain wires / catastrophic knowing. What happens when alchemy fails / all the way?"

A poem by @khadijahqueen.com in the Spring issue

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#poetry #poetrycommunity

2 days ago 13 4 0 0
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Two by Jane Clarke | Amsterdam Review Read "The Man from the Bogs Commission" and "Rooks" by Jane Clarke

Lovely to have two new poems in the Amsterdam Review. Both will be included in my new collection Coracle - out Oct. 2026 w @bloodaxebooks.bsky.social

www.amsterdamreview.org/two-by-jane-...

6 days ago 8 5 0 0
J'ai habité l'instant flexible I lived in the flexible moment —Samira Negrouche ​ I have entered five fevered days swim in my salty skin the sea awaits will take me when-- eyes gliding over undulant teal skin

J'ai habité l'instant flexible I lived in the flexible moment —Samira Negrouche ​ I have entered five fevered days swim in my salty skin the sea awaits will take me when-- eyes gliding over undulant teal skin

"Lines stunted / half-born / I dig them out with a flat stone"

Read a poem by 𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗼𝗻 𝗗𝗼𝗹𝗶𝗻 in the Spring issue

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#poetry #poetrycommunity

5 days ago 9 4 0 0

Delighted to have 2 new poems in this issue of @amsterdamreview.bsky.social amidst so much brilliant writing.

6 days ago 8 3 0 0
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Harvest in the Dark | Amsterdam Review Jane Zwart joins W.J. Herbert to discuss her debut collection Oddest & Oldest & Saddest & Best, a book of poems shaped by wonder, doubt, and faith.

www.amsterdamreview.org/harvest-in-t...

1 week ago 8 4 0 0

@janezwart.bsky.social @citylightsbooks.bsky.social @kellyrsamuels.bsky.social @kenpoyner.bsky.social @roberthedin.bsky.social @differx.bsky.social @janeclarke.bsky.social @kebishop.bsky.social

1 week ago 5 1 0 0
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Our Spring 2026 issue is OUT NOW!

Featuring #interviews with Eleni Sikelianos and Jane Zwart, as well as works by Raúl Zurita, Jane Clarke, Khadijah Queen, Tom Laichas, Dian Parker, Susan Irvine, and many more.

Read here: bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#poetry #fiction #translations #amsterdam 🇳🇱

1 week ago 18 9 1 1
The snow dissolves as the light declines, I turn to watch rooks unspool over the city, rise to the scythe of the sun, before night seals the scene and silence deepens, the skyline’s pinprick of light is what’s left

The snow dissolves as the light declines, I turn to watch rooks unspool over the city, rise to the scythe of the sun, before night seals the scene and silence deepens, the skyline’s pinprick of light is what’s left

"I only know / these hours when clouds / hang threadbare, dissolve in / the night, / the traces of sepia / streaked into the horizon"

Read 𝑪𝒊𝒕𝒚𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑺𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒔 by 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐟 @wolffalex108.bsky.social in the Fall issue

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#poetry #poetrycommunity

1 month ago 10 1 0 0
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Excited to be reading at York Literature Festival as part if the #IWD2026! maybe see you there? I'll be reading some poems from my @bloodaxebooks.bsky.social collection #constructingawitch

1 month ago 10 4 0 1
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📷 New {unedited}

#photography #photo #photographer #artshare #fotografia #filmsky #artsky #photosky #booksky #moviesky #Photographie #Laphotographie #art #naturephotography #snow #landscapephotography #composition #snowstorm #snowart #blizzard #snowscape #snowdrift #edwardhopper #andrewwyeth #hey

1 month ago 33 6 0 0
Let me tell you a story about the kingdom of the forest with its root-pulls and crown-sways and its systems of fungi, how it feels to belong to a realm where thought is decision honed over time and shaped only by memory, to follow patterns in plants and watch the arc of clouds to know where to shelter let me tell you what I’ve seen out there in the forest where every movement matters and each pause carries weight, what it means to see a roe deer pick its way through elm shadow tilting its ear at the onset of rain, the curve of a hindleg caught on lichen, the strange tic-like starts in its eyes that have learned not to blink, its body sinewed and patterned to fade into brushwood

Let me tell you a story about the kingdom of the forest with its root-pulls and crown-sways and its systems of fungi, how it feels to belong to a realm where thought is decision honed over time and shaped only by memory, to follow patterns in plants and watch the arc of clouds to know where to shelter let me tell you what I’ve seen out there in the forest where every movement matters and each pause carries weight, what it means to see a roe deer pick its way through elm shadow tilting its ear at the onset of rain, the curve of a hindleg caught on lichen, the strange tic-like starts in its eyes that have learned not to blink, its body sinewed and patterned to fade into brushwood

Read my poem "The Crossing," a finalist for The Atlanta Review International Poetry Contest 2025

hataaliinotes.substack.com/p/the-crossing

#poetry #writingcommunity

2 months ago 8 3 0 0
Photo of poet Selima Hill by Jill Furmanovsky. Selima is wearing a black headband, a purple and black scarf and round silver earrings. She pictured against a white wall with shadows on. She is looking away from the camera and is smiling.

Photo of poet Selima Hill by Jill Furmanovsky. Selima is wearing a black headband, a purple and black scarf and round silver earrings. She pictured against a white wall with shadows on. She is looking away from the camera and is smiling.

Selima Hill was in conversation with @nathanielking.bsky.social for this two-part @poetrylondon.bsky.social online exclusive.

In this rare interview, Selima discussed her poetry, and her recent experience of being presented with The King's Gold Medal for Poetry.
poetrylondon.co.uk/openreach-pa...

2 months ago 9 3 0 0

Feeling so lucky to get to read with these beauties. 🧡

2 months ago 10 5 1 0
A girl is born then twisted, unfolds a gluttonous body, popping each beachball moon into a wide yellow mouth. Once, I could peel back the face of a planet like a clementine or sit in a creek & abstract

A girl is born then twisted, unfolds a gluttonous body, popping each beachball moon into a wide yellow mouth. Once, I could peel back the face of a planet like a clementine or sit in a creek & abstract

"How to fight embodiment? Expand / against embrace, shake radiation like a dog, / strip, condense, reconfigure."

A poem by 𝗟𝗶𝗹𝗮 𝗥𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗻 in the Fall 2025 issue

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#poetry #poetrycommunity

3 months ago 8 5 0 0
They say things come back to where they’d been before, like some sort of comet feelings. You just need to know how to wait for them, you need to wear out, standing still, countless pairs of boots. This means the acacia tree that was cut last fall will shoot up briefly from its old root. That you will love me again in a few billion light years.

They say things come back to where they’d been before, like some sort of comet feelings. You just need to know how to wait for them, you need to wear out, standing still, countless pairs of boots. This means the acacia tree that was cut last fall will shoot up briefly from its old root. That you will love me again in a few billion light years.

Read 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒂𝒊𝒕 by 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮 (transl. 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐨) in the Fall issue

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#poetry #poetrycommunity #translation #Romanian

2 months ago 8 4 0 0
When my older brother died I began seeing a child psychologist named Patrick Rose who practiced out of a basement space. He was tall and freakishly thin and wore a green and red African dashiki extravagantly beaded along the neckline. He chain-smoked Larks and had a small fan next to his chair which was supposed to direct the smoke upward towards the bunker’s only open window but seemed to have the opposite effect of blowing it straight at me. The first thing he told me was that he himself had lost a sibling when he was around my age – an older brother, just like me

When my older brother died I began seeing a child psychologist named Patrick Rose who practiced out of a basement space. He was tall and freakishly thin and wore a green and red African dashiki extravagantly beaded along the neckline. He chain-smoked Larks and had a small fan next to his chair which was supposed to direct the smoke upward towards the bunker’s only open window but seemed to have the opposite effect of blowing it straight at me. The first thing he told me was that he himself had lost a sibling when he was around my age – an older brother, just like me

After his brother’s sudden death, a young boy is sent to a therapist whose own unresolved grief seeps into every session. Can his unconventional methods heal them both?

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#writingcommunity #fiction

2 months ago 9 3 0 0
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Remembering 𝐋𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨𝐟𝐬𝐤𝐲, born on this day in 1904, one of the most important modernist poets. "Since the past is a wall between two windows / one who does not lean out no longer sees."

#writingcommunity #literature

2 months ago 7 1 0 0
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Air, fire, water, earth: each element matched with a cardinal direction. Air with the East. The inhale is inspiration, expanding breath, a promise not yet embodied. Fire with the South. Breath at the apex, burning with creation and destruction.

Air, fire, water, earth: each element matched with a cardinal direction. Air with the East. The inhale is inspiration, expanding breath, a promise not yet embodied. Fire with the South. Breath at the apex, burning with creation and destruction.

"The exhalation is the letting go. / The emptiness is what is left."

A poem by 𝗔𝗻𝗻𝗲 𝗪𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲 in the Fall 2025 issue

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#poetry #poetrycommunity

3 months ago 8 1 0 0
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Read 𝗗𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹 𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗡𝗲𝗺𝗼's @danielnemo.bsky.social study on how we came to mistake our own constructs for the world itself, in an invitation to look for the cracks where the underlying reality seeps through.

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#essay #reality #writingcommunity #hors-serie

3 months ago 7 3 0 0
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Congratulations to 𝗝𝗮𝗻𝗲 𝗭𝘄𝗮𝗿𝘁 @janezwart.bsky.social whose debut collection is out on Feb 3 from Orison Books.

Read two of her poems first published in Amsterdam Review: bit.ly/jane-zwart

and buy a copy here: www.orisonbooks.com/product-page/oddest-oldest-saddest-best-poems-by-jane-zwart

3 months ago 24 8 2 1
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Delighted to tell you that the very popular ROOTS exhibition will have a second outing from the 9 - 31 January 2026. Do join us for the launch & poems in Green Acres Gallery Wexford town Sat. 10 January 2026, 3 pm. Entry free & all welcome. @bloodaxebooks.bsky.social

3 months ago 6 2 1 0
I’m not good with people. I can’t exactly say why. I’m just not. I think I was a normal child. I don’t think anything happened to me when I was a kid. But my memories of childhood are hazy. Shards of memories. Shifting scenes like in a kaleidoscope. Sometimes I feel like I didn’t have a childhood at all, like I went from baby to adult and mostly skipped everything else in between. To improve my people skills, I work on empathy with my co-workers. After all, I’m the lead operator for The Archway Project, even though Mr. Mallory, my boss, would never have bestowed that title on me. Mr. Mallory barely tolerates me. But Mr. Archway appears to favor me and chose me to lead. I have no idea why he did.

I’m not good with people. I can’t exactly say why. I’m just not. I think I was a normal child. I don’t think anything happened to me when I was a kid. But my memories of childhood are hazy. Shards of memories. Shifting scenes like in a kaleidoscope. Sometimes I feel like I didn’t have a childhood at all, like I went from baby to adult and mostly skipped everything else in between. To improve my people skills, I work on empathy with my co-workers. After all, I’m the lead operator for The Archway Project, even though Mr. Mallory, my boss, would never have bestowed that title on me. Mr. Mallory barely tolerates me. But Mr. Archway appears to favor me and chose me to lead. I have no idea why he did.

Read 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒑 by 𝗠𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗟𝗼𝘆𝗱 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝘆, a look at the surreal theater of professional life and what it means to have work ethics when the work itself is meaningless.

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#writingcommunity #fiction

3 months ago 4 2 0 0

Really interesting reflections on poetry collection as concept album here, alongside some great recommendations (delighted to be among them)
@bloodaxebooks.bsky.social

3 months ago 14 5 2 0
A girl is born then twisted, unfolds a gluttonous body, popping each beachball moon into a wide yellow mouth. Once, I could peel back the face of a planet like a clementine or sit in a creek & abstract

A girl is born then twisted, unfolds a gluttonous body, popping each beachball moon into a wide yellow mouth. Once, I could peel back the face of a planet like a clementine or sit in a creek & abstract

"How to fight embodiment? Expand / against embrace, shake radiation like a dog, / strip, condense, reconfigure."

A poem by 𝗟𝗶𝗹𝗮 𝗥𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗻 in the Fall 2025 issue

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#poetry #poetrycommunity

3 months ago 8 5 0 0
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📷 from the Vault

#photography #photo #photographer #artshare #fotografia #filmsky #artsky #photosky #booksky #moviesky #Photographie #Laphotographie #art #blackandwhite #bnwphoto #bnw #b&w #streetphotography #exterior #corridor #hallway #passage #dichirico #dreamlike #gleaming #metaphysical #light

3 months ago 132 13 2 1
Waking is a parachute jump from a dream. Free of the suffocating whirl, the traveler dives toward the green zone of the morning. Things flare up. From the soaring skylark’s perch, he makes out the giant tree root system’s subterranean, swaying lamps. But above ground, the greenery stands in a tropical current with raised arms, listening to the rhythm of an invisible pump. And he sinks toward summer, lowered into its bright crater

Waking is a parachute jump from a dream. Free of the suffocating whirl, the traveler dives toward the green zone of the morning. Things flare up. From the soaring skylark’s perch, he makes out the giant tree root system’s subterranean, swaying lamps. But above ground, the greenery stands in a tropical current with raised arms, listening to the rhythm of an invisible pump. And he sinks toward summer, lowered into its bright crater

Read 𝗗𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹 𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗡𝗲𝗺𝗼's @danielnemo.bsky.social new translation of 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆 by Tomas Tranströmer, now complete with literary analysis.

hataaliinotes.substack.com/p/prelude

#poetry #poetrycommunity #translation #Swedish #Transtromer

3 months ago 7 2 0 0
A Timeless Mirror-World Narcissism, Trauma, and the Purge of Time

A Timeless Mirror-World Narcissism, Trauma, and the Purge of Time

Narcissists "experience a kind of temporal void, an endless repetition of old patterns with no true progression, accompanied by feelings of emptiness and a nagging fear of death."

Read my study on narcissism here:

hataaliinotes.substack.com/p/a-timeless-mirror-world

#psychology #mentalhealth

4 months ago 7 3 0 0
Finally, falling like paratroopers, the leaves are blanketing the ground and the piles are starting to take shape and I want to kick and jump into the biggest heaps, like I did when I was a child, a rather mischievous one the more I recollect.

Finally, falling like paratroopers, the leaves are blanketing the ground and the piles are starting to take shape and I want to kick and jump into the biggest heaps, like I did when I was a child, a rather mischievous one the more I recollect.

"The world is a mess, but then it’s always been, / tragedies ongoing no matter how I write / against them."

Two poems by 𝗧𝗶𝗺 𝗦𝘂𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗱𝘁 in the Fall 2025 issue

bit.ly/AmsterdamReview

#poetry #poetrycommunity

3 months ago 12 2 0 0
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Always delighted to stumble upon another response to The Tiger Who Came to Tea. Spending the afternoon with @jesstraynor.bsky.social stunning new poetry collection. @bloodaxebooks.bsky.social

4 months ago 16 3 1 0