Who's Afraid of A Poem?

The poet (Hmm) thought of a poem. (Do you think a poem?). Hmm. OK. [Smiles.] (Panic). Right. (Alarm). So ... (Runs out screaming).

Stephen Crane gets His Head Round the Hostile Environment

A migrant said to Britain:
"Do you not see the sacrifices I make?"
"How ungrateful!" Britain replied,
"Isn't it enough that every Thursday at 8pm sharp
"I clap for your right to die for this great nation?"

this city

I

this city
is old,
older than jesus christ

this city
is young,
is reborn every day at 9am

this city
is old enough
to let you move
the way you want to move

this city
is young enough
to let you be
what you want to be

II

this city is a song
a pulse
a hum and crackle
a trembling
a feeling that if you stand still for too long
straddling the roads,
feeding the city,
you will be pulled in,
pulled up
burned,
turned to ash
consumed

III

this city,
a place of exits
and arrivals,
welcomes you
as you leave

IV

there's no other way of looking at it,
really
this city
is a Hotel California
kind of a place,
the hum and crackle you hear
is no different
from the current on fences
keeping the horses in

Earlier versions of “this city” have been published in the Leicester Mercury (27 February 2016) and in the anthology, Welcome to Leicester: Poems about The City (Dahlia Publishing, 2016).

The Politics of Friendship

On the way out,
Friendship stands at the door,
and announces to the room
what could have been said to the ear.

frayed edges
knock on wind like woodpeckers
demanding a reset

These Streets Think of Summer

Leicester, 17 June 2017

we chose this place,
                or this place chose us

looked at from above, the streets
around the Clock Tower
have the shape of an icicle

as angels mingle with crowds,
in the near tropical heat,
sampling continental, Mediterranean
and world dishes at the party
                greeting new arrivals

the cooling sound and lulling spray
of water from the fountain

i meet Venus on Horsefair Street
                she cannot stop

the families, poets, priests, lovers,
musicians and Pan bask,
picnic in the sun, remembering
celebrating Venus' sister, Jo

the historians, philosophers, prophets
and revolutionaries at the cross
                pointing the way to the heart of the city,
prophesy a time when money
will not be a measure
for human life

Notes:

These Streets Think of Summer was inspired by: the Continental Market that was held around the Clock Tower on 17 June 2017; the Refugee Week celebration that was held in Town Hall Square; the event celebrating the life of Jo Cox that was held at Leicester Cathedral; and the convergence of protests that took place at Jubilee Square all on the same day. 

The poem has also been featured on the pavement at the Leicester Against War / Leicester for Peace vigil that has been taking place at the Clock Tower weekly since December 2015. The vigil is the longest running current vigil of its kind in Britain and is calling on Britain to, among other things, do more to support people who are looking for refuge as well as for an end to British military intervention in countries like Syria.

The Sign of Jonah

Jonah was a fisherman.
The Lord said to Jonah, "Go there."
Jonah said, "No.
I am a fisherman.
I know where the fish are.
There's where I go."

The Lord sulked.

Jonah was a fisherman.
He took his boat to sea, to go
where the fish were. Halfway there,
The Lord raised a big storm,
Broke Jonah's boat
And drowned Jonah -

Or, so The Lord thought.

But ... er ... Jonah was a fish ...
er ... man. Jonah turned into a big fish
And swam to shore.

Not to be out done, The Lord made tell
how he'd told Jonah, "Go there"
and Jonah'd said, No
And how he, The Lord
had cooked up a big storm,
and broke Jonah's boat,
And how he, The Lord,
had sent a big fish to save Jonah
And how the big fish had taken Jonah
To the place he, The Lord,
Had said to Jonah, "Go to this place."

The things Theresa touches

The things Theresa touches
wilt,
rot
and die

She laughs

lisping
with a forked tongue

dancing round the bonfire
of fractured hopes

letting go is easy

letting go is easy
you wrap your arms and legs
around the object of your desires
you cling on as if for dear life
you sink your teeth into it
and through the nose
you say you've let go

you know how it is

i will lie to you

i will say
we are done

i will tell you
life has never been better

i will say
i don't think about you
at all

i will tell you
i am so over you

i will say
i have moved on

i talked a mountain

I

i talked a mountain
you slept

II

tidying up
i dreamt i was awake

to bits

unreservedly
unconditionally
uncritically

deeply
madly

without rhythm
rhyme
reason
or method

to bits

dreams

dreams
like facebook status updates
all over the place

she hitched up her skirts
and went to the sea
leaving a scar
in the valley