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Friday, 21 November 2025

There Will Always Be One More Thing

"There Will Always Be One More Thing",   
first published in From Here To There (CivicLeicester, 2025), pp. 62-71
There will always be one more thing.[1]

A nobleman, a man of God.
His name was George.
He confessed his belief
In the one true God.
[2]

Patron Saint of Aragon, Catalonia, and England,
Patron Saint of Georgia, Germany and Greece,
Patron Saint of Lithuania, Moscow and Portugal,
Patron Saint of Romania, and Serbia,

His name was George.
He confessed his belief in the one true God.
A nobleman, a man of God, his name was George.


Somebody says[3] Europe can’t cope
simply can’t cope
with African and Asian refugees.[4]

We’d be over-run,
Patron Saint of Archers.

It’d be too much,
Patron Saint of Cavalry and Cavalrymen.

We’d be ruined,
Patron Saint of Scouts and Soldiers.

We’d be overwhelmed,
Patron Saint of Riders and Saddlers.

We’d be tainted,
Patron Saint of Fencers and Field workers.

We’d be diluted

A noble man, a man of God.
His name was George.


Patron Saint of Ethiopia,
Lebanon,
Palestine,
and Syria,

Somebody says African and Asian men
women
and children
fleeing war
conflict
persecution
climate change
extreme poverty
violence

do so

illegally.

His name was George.
He confessed his belief in the one true God.
He was afflicted with many evils,
But his spirit was not broken.


Somebody says African and Asian refugees
men
women
and children
can’t possibly be human

can only be illegal

criminal

for surviving border zones
deserts
seas
and the jungle,

can’t be human

can only be small boats

for swimming the moat
and scaling the fortress,

can’t be human

for wanting to feel safe
and for wanting to live
breathe
dream
flourish,
and prosper

simply

cannot

can’t be human

He was afflicted with many evils,
But his spirit was not broken.
He confessed his belief in the one true God.


Patron Saint of Syria,
Palestine,
Lebanon,
and Ethiopia,

Somebody says Europe can’t cope
simply can’t cope

with this invasion

with these black, Muslim numbers

these small boats

these non-humans

can’t possibly do for Black African and Muslim Asian refugees
what we did for white, Christian, blue-eyed, blond, middle-class, working-class European men women and children Ukrainian refugees who look like us and live in houses and drive cars and go on holiday and go to work, church, the club, and school like us and who ...[5]

Then, when he had died,
He arose again from the dead.
He arose again from the dead.
And began at once to preach.


Patron Saint of Portugal, England, and Germany,
Patron Saint of Aragon, Catalonia, and Lithuania,
Patron Saint of Serbia, Romania, and Greece,
Patron Saint of Moscow and Georgia,

A noble man, a man of God.
His name was George.


Somebody says Europe is a garden
built of freedom
economic prosperity
and social cohesion[6]

an exception

built of beautiful things
intellectual life
and wellbeing

Yes, we’ve built a garden.
Europe is a garden,
and the rest of the world, a jungle.[7]

Then, when he had died,
He arose again from the dead.
He arose again from the dead.
And began at once to preach.


Patron Saint of Moscow, Georgia, and Serbia,
Patron Saint of Romania, Lithuania, and Greece,
Patron Saint of Portugal, Aragon, and Catalonia,
Patron Saint of England, and Germany,

Somebody says the jungle
by different ways and means
will invade us[8]

He arose again from the dead.
He arose again from the dead
And began at once to preach.


Protector against the plague,
Protector against leprosy,
Protector against venomous snakes,

His name was George.
He confessed his belief in the one true God.
A nobleman, a man of God, his name was George.


Somebody says African and Asian men, women and children
drowning four times[9]
cannot be human
simply cannot,

can’t be human

can only be illegal
warehousable
transportable
trade-able
fungible
units
swarms
waves
a flood
mermen tripping on fantasies of walking on land sailing oceans on ship rudders[10]
Icarus[11] intent on disturbing 31-year-old, Clapham, south-west London software engineer’s Polish beer[12]
manacled, straitjacketed birds[13] on chartered deportation flights cattle trucks still–bursting throttling songs of freedom[14] through manacled legs  torn ligaments  shattered spines  broken wristings  broken necks  crushed chests  collapsed lungs[15]
nothing to see here  nothing to hear
would you like something to eat, ma’am
something to drink, sir
fasten your seatbelts
enjoy the onboard entertainment
one in, one out
deal
of single
fighting age
illegal
numbers, meeennn
with no rights
to want

our jobs,
our women
our schools
our social housing
our NHS
hotels
homes

children,
He arose again from the dead
And began at once to preach.


Patron Saint of Ethiopia,
Patron Saint of Lebanon,
Patron Saint of Syria,
Patron Saint of Palestine,

Somebody says Britain must
reduce the numbers
send the drones
send the jet skis, wave machines and floating walls
send the navy
send the army
send M
MI5
MI6
James Bond
the police
The Doctor
send Peppa
Pig
send the patriots, knights, and SAS
send the villagers and towners
send Rupert Paddington, and Winnie
Toad too
round up
clear out
by any means
stop them the invasion
bang them up
string them up
reduce
smash
the foreigners the Africans the Muslims small boats numbers
send them back
carcasses
throw them back
against the border
the sewer
vermin
the river
the sea
human zoos
concentration camps
death camps
killing fields
weapons development & testing grounds
organ harvesting fields
fence them in
what I’d like to know is would you push the button
open air & for-profit prisons containers
disused military barracks
offshore
out of sight
out of earshot
offshore rigs
prison ships barges
prison colonies
shithole countries
Rwanda
Albania
Kosovo
fish and meat markets grinders
wars
let them drown
tents
sands
count them
monetise them
tag & track them
no rare earth minerals
nor oil and gas
nor semiconductors
nor markets for our missiles, bunker buster bombs and F-35s
these
biomass

O God,
who didst grant to Saint George strength and constancy,
preserve, through his intercession,
our faith from wavering
[16]

because for them
no visas
no e-gates
no family reunion
no safe routes
no sanctuary
because they are not,
cannot be
can’t be human

these numbers

these small boats
this invasion

cut their feet off[17a, b]
deflate their dinghies
the small boats
in the sun
let them drown
the Black African Muslim Asian carrion
in the night
detritus
in
at
within our
the border
driftwood

these

because we can’t cope

because Europe is a garden

because the rest of the world
is not blue-eyed blond a jungle
and the jungle
wants

to invade
us.

He rose again from the dead.
He arose again from the dead
And began at once to preach.



And The Sirens, still –
with songs of freedom
– to thy treacherous coasts lure
the displaced

to these hard, hard coasts
[18]


Wade in the water (we dey)
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water (we dey)
[19]


REFERENCES:

[1] In conversation with Toni Morrison who, in a 1975 speech, said: ‘The function, the very serious function of racism is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work. It keeps you explaining, over and over again, your reason for being. Somebody says you have no language and you spend twenty years proving that you do. Somebody says your head isn’t shaped properly so you have scientists working on the fact that it is. Somebody says you have no art, so you dredge that up. Somebody says you have no kingdoms, so you dredge that up. None of this is necessary. There will always be one more thing.’ (Morrison, T. (1975). Lecture: A Humanist View. The Black Agenda Review, 26 March 2025. [accessed: 30 October 2025])

[2] Extract from The Georgslied (Song of St. George). Wikisource. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[3] In conversation with Lady Blacksmith Mambazo. (1986). Homeless. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[4] Krause, U. (2021). Colonial roots of the 1951 Refugee Convention and its effects on the global refugee regime. J Int Relat Dev 24, 599–626. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[5] Limbong, A. 2022. Why Ukrainians are being treated differently than refugees from other countries. npr, February 28. [accessed: 8 November 2025]

[6] Borrell, J. (2022). European Diplomatic Academy: Opening remarks by High Representative Josep Borrell at the inauguration of the pilot programme. European Commission, 13 October. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[7] Borrell, J. (2022).

[8] Ibid.

[9] Hayden, S. (2022). My Fourth Time, We Drowned. Fourth Estate, 2022

[10] Four Nigerians survive 14 days on ship’s rudder before Brazilian rescue. The Guardian, 1 August 2023. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[11] In conversation with Amanda Holiday. (2024). “African Icarus”, in Japa Fire: An Anthology of Poems on African and African Diasporic Migration. CivicLeicester, 2024: 32

[12] Kale, S. (2021). Out of thin air: the mystery of the man who fell from the sky. The Guardian, 15 April 2021. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[13] In conversation with Maya Angelou’s “Cage Bird”, on Poets Speak (2024). MAYA ANGELOU reads “Caged Bird”. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[14] In conversation with Bob Marley and The Wailers (1991). Redemption Song. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[15] Deaths of immigration detainees. 2017-2025. Inquest. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[16] Early church intercessory prayer

[17a] Hilsum, L. (2023). No way forwards, or back: The plight of West African migrants stuck in NigerTimes Literary Supplement, October 20. [accessed: 21 November 2025]

[17b] Hilsum, L. (2023). The story of Alphonse who we met in #Agadez. X, 3 October. [accessed: 21 November 2025]

[18] In conversation with “Rule, Britannia!” (1763): ‘The Muses, still with freedom found / Shall to thy happy coasts repair / Shall to thy happy, happy coasts repair / Blest isle regardless, with countless beauty places / And manly hearts to guard the fair’. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

[19] The Spirituals. (2021). Wade in the water. [accessed: 30 October 2025]

Friday, 29 March 2024

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).

Friday, 16 December 2022

Call for Participants - Forced Migration and The Arts

Forced Migration and The Arts is an online series that brings together people with lived experience of forced migration, artists, activists and academics for conversation exploring questions around forced migration and the arts.

The conversations take place in the evening on the last Thursday of each month.

A playlist of videos from conversations we have held so far is accessible here

As part of the series, we would also like to explore topics that include (not limited to, and not necessarily in this order): refugee camps, internment camps, detention centres, museums and galleries, libraries and archives, decolonisation, community and participatory arts, theatre, music, poetry, creative writing, methodologies, theoretical and conceptual frameworks, the UK's minimum income requirement, visual art, fine art, street art, public art, film, Haiti, Lebanon, Syria, Afghanistan, Kenya, Libya, Venezuela, Mexico, Ukraine, and more.

Have you done any work around forced migration and the arts in any of these contexts? Did the work include people with lived experience of forced migration? Would you and the people you worked with like to speak as part of the series? 

If yes, please email civicleicester@gmail.com and let us know.

About CivicLeicester:

CivicLeicester is a community media channel that uses the arts, digital and print technologies and social media platforms like YouTubeFacebook and Twitter to highlight conversations. 

The channel is unfunded and was set up after realising that, year in, year out, there were a lot of very significant activities and conversations taking place at a grassroots, community, national and international level that should be more visible but were not receiving any mainstream media coverage at all.

Ambrose Musiyiwa
Facilitator, CivicLeicester 

This post was updated on 29 April 2023 to include a list of some of the topics we would like to explore as part of the series. 

Saturday, 18 June 2022

dinosaurs on first street

would it have been safer
to keep on walking
to ignore that
next to the construction site
with its cranes
and its promise
of incongruous high-rise buildings
looking down
on the derelict memory
of empire
on this street
dividing the old 
and the new
there
on the pavement
dinosaurs

Written on 17 June 2022. Inspired by a find on First Street, in Manchester, after dinner at HOME Mcr, after the opening of a two-day workshop and conference on Transnational Lived Citizenship Through Creative Production which took place on the 16th and 17th of June at the University of Manchester.

Tuesday, 2 June 2020

The Rabbit On The Moon

You said you were learning Russian because you wanted to be an astronaut. And you laughed and apologised, remembering the friend who found such talk irritating because 47 was too old for dreams.

Once, you stood between the sun and the moon. There was a rabbit on the moon.

They said, then you can write an auto-ethnography about seeking refuge on the moon. 

You said you weren't going to the moon. You said you were going to Mars. You said you were going to be part of a manned mission to Mars.

You laughed and said you were not to be minded, you were being you, making connections where there might not be any.

You said you did not want to be a hero because bad things happen to heroes.

crow's call tears morning meadow's run
blackbird with white stripes bore news
squirrel,
giddy from dodging cars on Welford Road, cyclists on Putney Road, and buses on Aylestone Road,
markings on the road

You did not know if there was an age at which you have to stop dreaming, an age at which you have to pack away dreams the way some people pack away toys.

One day, in London, it was day and then it was night and then it was day again with no darkness at all in the middle.

And you stood between the sun and the moon.

The sun and the moon were like lovers pulling to each other over the rooftops because they could not bear parting.

do you remember how you got here?
why did you come?
do you remember anything?

If you let me, I could love you forever, said the sun to the moon.