Goodbye and Thank You

After a long period of inactivity and the most active individual involved in this project silently leaving, it feels right to say goodbye and thank you. Thank you to all those who shared and contributed to this project. Thank you and goodbye! This project was born from a desire for raw poetry, uncivilised writing and [...]

The Body, Biopolitics and Covid, The Night Forest Journal Issue 4 – Call For Howls

A howl erupts from the body, out into the world. From the flesh of the animal howling, its musicality rides the air, unseen but undeniably there.  A cough or a sneeze releases tiny particles of a disease named Covid-19 from the body, a presence that can ride upon the air and infect those who cannot [...]

Animal by Phen Weston

Animal place dreams in singularity Animal dance and plague reality Featured drops where animal close The gates, open the lamentation, In my brooding blood. Animal is animal. Strange, cannibalisation often, but Animal control obligation. Where Are you heading? Animal feel. Animal dream, love, miss. Kiss Prisms with prison like cause, Animal crave you and Moments [...]

Night Forest Journal Issue 3

The world has been a strange place since the release of the second issue of our journal. This strange quality has permeated near all aspects of civilisation, in more ways than we could articulate here. In a very long book, the philosopher Schopenhauer described poetry as being greater than history, as history can only account [...]

A CALL TO HOWL…

“He was mastered by the sheer surging of life, the tidal wave of being, the perfect joy of each separate muscle, joint, and sinew in that it was everything that was not death, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flying exultantly under the stars.” ― Jack London, The Call of the [...]

Detonate by Flower Bomb

Does your heart skip a beat to the rhythm of a splitting sky? Or when bent staples decorate the crowns of still-born kings and queens? Curiosity dances upon our satisfaction like nails on a chalk board as our imagination holds precious time hostage. The hands of a clock are bound with the razor wire of [...]

Quagmire by Brendon Crook

Whilst civilization claws the edge of its pit, In a wild scramble to save its deranged plunder, It sinks slowly into the quagmire of its own treachery, Mutating to ever more grotesque spectres of depravity. The few horrified children, Born of old hearts, Hide in the shadows from the Babylonian wastes, And quake at the [...]