WELCOME TO INDIGO DREAMS ONLINE
We welcome both Members and Guests to our Website. We have combined former sites so that everything is under one roof.
Indigo Dreams publish poetry and occasional prose.
Poetry Collections
As well as anthologies, (some selected from Members of this site, our Facebook group Indigo Dreams Poetry and magazine subscribers only) we also publish individual collections. We generally approach those we wish to publish, but also consider unsolicited manuscripts. Please do not submit a manuscript without prior agreement however. They simply will not be read, time doesn't allow.
Anyone wishing to send us a collection for consideration should firstly complete a Publication Enquiry Form which may be obtained by clicking on the Indigo Dreams logo above and sending an email with Please send Publication Enquiry Form as a heading.
Reach Poetry, Sarasvati and The Dawntreader magazines
Our 3 magazines details may be found by using the relevant menu tabs. These are different in style and content and it is strongly recommended you study a copy of the magazine you are interested in prior to submitting work for us to consider. We are entirely self-funding so if you are able to subscribe for several or just one issue, it would help considerably.
You can submit work through the email button on the relevant pages, just put the magazine title as a heading. Please don't use the general email on the top left of each page to submit work as it might not get through to the correct editor.
Competitions
All our current Competitions are listed and you will be able to access our Online-Only Competitions if you are a Member.
Members
Please consider joining us as a Member. It's totally free and gives you many benefits, some of which are highlighted opposite. Besides, we'd really like to have you as part of our community.
and finally.....
Finally, if you're enjoying the music, great! If not, you can click the Jukebox off (or on if it's quiet!). The arrow next to Play let's you jump to the next selection. The Jukebox is just above the date at the top of the page.
Enjoy your stay.
Why become a Member?
There are many advantages to becoming a member. Among these, a Member will be eligible to:
Enter our on-site members-only poetry and short story competitions.
Submit poems and stories for online publication consideration.
Hear of any new developments / publications / competitions first
Advertise events that they wish to publicise
Let others know of their successes, new publications or other relevant news items
Make opinions known in occasional Polls.
All pages are accesible to Guests as well as Members, but only Members may add their details
Help grow this community
It's free and easy.
Join on this page!
Young woman knitting on a train - John Webber
Me sitting knotted
in commuters;
sun doing its best
to light the corners
I dare look at.
She gets on,
sits in the one remaining space,
diverts the light,
begins to knit,
wool thread emerging
from a plastic bag.
Her needles catch the sun,
they glint and click,
pulling the strand
from scratch
into the beginning
of an unknown garment.
From the shadows
of trees and bridges, stations,
I’m glad to be diverted
from reluctance
to be sucked
into the city.
Her concentration,
the oblivious-to-me-watching
half-smile on her face,
makes me envious,
concentrating on her pattern.
Knit one, purl one,
let the train go on,
start something for the future,
for journeys yet to come.
From Indigo Dreams collection 'Had Van Gogh Had a Day Job'
Radio - Joanna Ezekiel
Of course I remember where I was
when I heard John Lennon had been killed.
I was half-awake on a December morning,
the sudden shock of my mother’s voice,
filling me in, broke right into my dream.
I knew she’d listened to our radio,
a long black box that needed to warm up.
It sat upon my parents’ chest of drawers,
glowed orange behind its many frequencies,
medium, short and long wave lines,
with silver names scratched underneath:
Luxemburg, Hilversum, Paris. I’d imagine
an orange line flickering from one name
to the next. Families listening to radios
in England in World War Two,
while so much was being silenced.
My mother’s family in London, sitting
around a brown, dusty wireless – all spared –
lucky to hear the latest, not the last,
crackle of news coming through.
From Joanna's pamphlet ‘Safe Passage’
See Members News
Boys on the beach – Dawn Bauling
There were boys on the beach -
beautiful muscle-made boys running,
shouting in the seas,
sandy toed and swimming with weed.
These Canute-hearted, jumping boys,
tempted even the skies and tides
to cover them
once, twice, three times.
There were boys in the dunes -
silent, still, hidden boys sleeping
fully clothed, uniformly warmly dressed
sandy-haired sun-soakers
taking a rest, brazenly opened,
unafraid now of excess rays -
sticky, cold, red.
There were boys in the boats -
home grown, regatta-faced, racing boys
surprised east coast optimists,
wary-eyed, wet-eared historians,
undiscipled, underprepared
fishers of men
again and again and again.
There are old men on the beach -
weathered, quiet, weighted men,
each treading gently upon the sand
holding hands with their dusty boys,
this time strafed with age.
‘It’s different now,’ Grandfather said.
Today, in Dunkirk, the children play.
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