Palestinian Embroidery

In response to “Material Power: Palestinian Embroidery” at The Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester

Because I don’t comprehend the meaning of the word

to rend        because the word tears looks too much like crying

and these holes rent in cloth look too much like bullet holes

edged in dangerously bright thread

Because all the dresses and cloth here

were left behind        or given away

hopefully freely        with their spirit soul

moulded      stitched     worn into them

Because this mourning cloth of every widow

who drowned her dress in a pool of indigo

colourless until the monotony of mourning would fade

into something older        new

because time is up      she scrubs off grief

with a toothbrush      scours      rubs

because it won’t ever be quite the same

always some indigo shadows—

I step into this displaced space

a tomb decked as King’s burial chamber

gold thread on silk      linen      cotton

wool coins     beads      embroidered jewellery

all that was not pillaged by those who keep on

grabbing        Now that all cloth is taken

all spindles      looms      colour      delicate stitches

now that the humbleness of their embroidery

is taken        vines      crucifixes      mosques

cross stitched variety of symbols        visual code

for the origin of each dress        the audacity

of their embroidery      incorporating British Mandate patches

forbidden colours      maps      stories

now that the resistance of their embroidery

is taken        intifada      flags      fire

all muscle memory        their identity stolen

with the cycles of mourning      of praising Allah—

Now the pillagers come for the plain polyester

the hunger        the hole-riddled dreams 

– images and poem by Petra Hilgers –

Dawn walk to Bridestones – January

Sun beckoned long before she was up

gesturing unnoticed from behind frost

not to mind him       I know sun won’t win

and today I remember she’s feminine

in my language       I crunch across

half-melted snow frozen over

in moonlit night     then melted     then frozen

again      she’s making light of it all

my double socks that won’t stop my toes

going numb with chill      wind ripping tears

turn to ice down my cheeks      piercing

tiny gaps in my tight-knit hat

everything up for grabs      a tiara of

frozen water drops around the waste pipe

more splendid than mum’s crystal wedding vase

sun throws a bouquet of sparkles across

just for good measure      I lose the path

in the dazzling sea of snow      left with

only a trace of rabbit paws to follow

until I see the silhouette of the trig point

darkhouse under deep blue winter sky

Live Coverage

And we watch

and we despair

and despair gets a hot drink

some chocolate

plays our feel good song

grabs something to read

anything      on Instagram

an ad about autumn trends

remembers we really need

to replace that worn out jeans

renew the car insurance

despair hoovers the hallway 

gets ready

to go to the corner shop

for milk      for more tea

cause it’s the only thing

we really know

but it’s raining     again

the boots still wet

and we grumble

and swear at the cat

for playing with our laces

when it’s raining again

bombs on Gaza

“I wake the sun / the water drinks me”

Like so many of us, I’ve been shocked to hear about the tragic death of Gboyega Udobanjo and my thoughts are with his family and his community of friends. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s waiting, hoping, looking for answers – filling the silence with his poetry and let him inspire my own.

“I wake the sun

the water drinks me”

 

The police officer

He was damn hard to find

We couldn’t see properly

a Black body out there

He was hard to reach

Nothing suspicious

 

The tabloid journalist

Of course he got baked

they all do      obsessed

with a drowned Black boy he was

remembered too late

he’d never learned to swim

they never do

 

The auntie

He was called

by the spirit of Adam

to release the spell

Not a poem

Pray for him

 

The priest

His faith was too weak

to carry him over the water

 

The physician

He over-identified with Black boys

gone missing

found in water

 

The poet

He lost himself in Adam

became Adam

the lake found him

 

The Buddhist

Death is life

Life is death

G is Adam

Adam is G

 

Adam

Water isn’t the place for you man

she’ll clear you out like Our Mother

don’t trust anything shining back at you

she’ll wake Moon and then you’re done for

just leave while you can

 

 

Title line from Gboyega Udobanjo, ‘London is the Place the for me’ from his forthcoming collection ‘Adam’, heard on three poems read for Tank Magazine, Soundcloud

 

 

 

 

 

 

About the anatomy of bike leathers

(Because I’ve just got my full motorcycle licence…. this poem was inspired by Michelle, my first motorcycle teacher)

I always wear leggings underneath

I guess you didn’t think me the leggings wearing kind

You should have seen me in my Levis

I’d sit wearing them in the bath tub filled with water

until they’d hug every curve of my body tight as sweat

no room to breathe       I’d made the boys stare

but      goodness      I’m glad I’m old enough now

to wear my leathers loose around hips and waist

there’s got to be space for another piece of cake

These ones are still as good as new

though they might like a little grease

once they were smooth as a Pina Colada

in that bar      where we’d hang out in our Levis

With leather it’s like      once you love it

it’ll love you back      once your body heat warms it

it’ll soften      crowfeet creases breaking in the skin

wrapping protection around your softness

©PetraHilgers, first published in ‘The heart neither red nor sweet’

Social Justice Poem

Social Justice Poem

When I’m alone and too tired for hunger

too hungry for words       stuffed

on emptiness’ loud feathers

The song of a Common Chiffchaff

                       —status update: uncommon

My eyes start itching

I rub and rub until my fingers

catch up      the mistake of it all

Everything out there a lesson in granulated pixels

everything in here hanging on to Dear Aliveness

Tomorrow I’ll put on my new boxing boots

I deserve them now      though deserving

plays no part in any equation

Loosely inspired by Claudia Rankine, Citizen, opening poem

VENT spoken and written word

In case you’re on the Isle of Wight…

I’ll be reading from my collection and new work

Sunday 23rd July, 12 noon at Ventnor Arts Club –

please note that this is not an online event

More details are here.

My Somali neighbour

My Somali neighbour

It was like someone’s soul had grown wings

beating faster than a hummingbird’s heart

hovering midair over the black Buddha

His gold-toothed smile faster than any doubts

about not remembering my name       there was always

the old motorbike of his youth

left in the garden like a dream

guarding the darkest place outside my window

a hole in the wall       top right corner

like a mouth      filled with twigs and spiderweb silk

stickily rich in vitamin K      blood clotting stopping you

from bleeding to death       His respect

after Adrian took it apart piece by piece

detailed it      reassembled it      fitted new parts

until he could fly it across the city

It was like the part of my soul I left behind when moving out

had come to visit

Shortlisted in Hexham Poetry Prize 2023

Ode to swearing

I swear like a fisherman’s friend

tongue numbing     tummy twisting

breathless gasp of knife’s edge balance

on borrowed silver 

I swear like an irate house wife

cascade of bleached linen’s tirade

fist shaking      hand breaking china

for luck I don’t care about

I swear like a true perilousness

like there’s no after      consequences

eyes to meet      ground zeroed in

on destruction

I swear worse than my young niece’s puke

shit    arsehole     her uncle pulled her up on

his daughter grinned at my fuck fuck fuck

muttered minutes after     a fuck up

I swear especially in the presence of church goers

who always know what’s right      do what’s right

so the neighbours don’t think bad of them

who of course have the money to buy it

I swear I’ll never respect authority only

because it wears uniforms     epaulettes     medals

a head that’s on every coin and stamp

long live sovereignty

Crisis point

I Some things pull people together

I see my next door neighbours

when I wash the dishes

wanting to disappear like soap bubbles

when I see the daughter seeing me

lugging her baby’s pushchair

up and down those steep steps

to the street level        from the street level

this hilly town is a constant measure of success

her father goes to work after dark

almost invisible in his night-coloured heavy duty coveralls

but for the high vis strips around the ankles

he’s looking after his girls

they long stopped arguing

—

II Some things drive people apart

That tightening of the screws    of control

of purse strings & heart strings

someone’s plucked out our wing feathers

that soaring power      spiral dancing

up     up      up      on thermal winds

just a dream       I should have known

yesterday    when I saw a chicken in the front garden

toffee brown with a snowstorm

hopping down every single steep step

one by one      in search for food

disappearing disappointedly

© photo and text by author

The Challenge (pt 1)

In this still very young year I happened to encounter the ‘Rivers of Blood‘ speech 3 times in one week – being of a different generation and nationality I decided to read it, finally, myself and read more about what birthed it and what killed it. It left me quite defeated because it seemed nothing much has changed in the public discourse – so I did what us writers and poets do and decided to take it on as a creative challenge: The Anti-River-Of-Blood-Speech. Part 1 came about courtesy of Amelia Ray‘s timely advice to cut to the chase by cutting every third word out. This I did and created this offal-list-poem.

The rule of three

Or what’s gone

A a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a an country

country country country country country country

countries overseas nation nation states region areas both

Britain Britain Britain Britain English English American

Commonwealth Commonwealth citizens citizens citizens citizens

immigrant immigrant immigrant immigrant immigrant immigrant

immigrants immigrants immigrants immigrants immigrants delay

government government administration management power authority

General’s advantage leader-writers plans settlement order reasons

parliament parliament politics politician function lie lie urgency

policy policy policy law law bill rights purpose purpose

man man Englishman spouses sons girl children children

family family families families beds boarding tenants tenants

house house house house address letter sentence grammar study

prospect employment employers employer occupation industries

store question price cent voucher asset means existence

conditions circumstances health old-age age undergoing support

time time integration integration part part part sections heath

population population population population population population

proportion proportion proportions rate size dimensions numbers

figure estimate total return return entry admission infinitum

all all all all all thousand thousands thousands hundreds

trends people people communities events encounters realities

relations conversations insights places change cloud comparison

that that that that that that that that that that that that that that

that John resentment drawbacks minority majority notice attention

alarm prejudice fragmentation reprisals troubles hand noise alarm

default colour colour Negro race slaves another difference

differences cause excreta blood prison pyre war gravity evils

temptation curses pabulum something something nothing thing

any any much more more some some such such such such such

so as as as like like should would would would would would

not not not not not not not not no no no no no Margate

where here here here here there there there there there there

why when when whence immediate still sometimes times just

now now now now now once first second later tomorrow

months year years years century never never never whether

how how do do do do did which which which which which

which which which who who who who who who who who who

whom they they they they they they they they they they they they

their their their their their their their them them them them them

themselves we we us our you he he he he he his his his

her her her her her she she she she she she she she she she

it it it it it it its its itself me my my I I I I I I I I I I

one one one one 1 two two two £2 eight 15 1985 annual

every very last last evenly even even even dangerous dangerous

anxious afraid attacked ominous regretfully physical hardest

resultant automatically official official right wrong defeated

white wide-grinning vested granted indisputable impossible

sufficient suffice limited typical private prospective parallel

indeed equal same same same rather special special national

ordinary decent decent conservative kind married unmarried

native-born immigrant-descended seven-roomed different difficult

largely huge great best full broad long small quiet vociferously

literally alternative employed existing identical otherwise infrequently

horrible positive broken generous appreciably unpopular perhaps

probably approximately exactly knowingly present present present

represent established maintain improving increase sharpening began

think thought sought pursued dare deserve can can can can

cannot know know knew immigrate foaming tried fell faring

arriving enters coming coming come come obtain passed stay

going go goes goes turned refused refused went left leave

stopping stopping give given lost bear born paying repeating

use use used own own own growing recover thought think apply

subjected told said say say says saying writing showing make

live creates intended intended expanded throwing became must

required regretted shrug disposed overawe taken implementing

prepared consulted proposed predicting practised prevented put

this this this this this this this this this this been been been

be be be be be be be be be be be be be be is is is is is is is is is is

is is is is is are are are are are are are are are are were were were

was was was was will will will will am has has has has had having

have have have have have have those those those those

and and and and and and and and and and and and and

and and and and and and and and and and and and and

and and and and and and at at from from from from while

for for for for for for for for or or or or or or or or or

or or or or or on on on on on by by by by by by by

but but but but but but but but than than into into into

in in in in in in in in in in in in in in in in in if without

with with with with with with with with according

to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to

to to to to to to to to to to to of of of of of of of of

of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of

of of of of of about about across among ahead already

between over under up upon further out off per because

beyond against against against awakened started summed

seem causing discriminate grievances determination feature

introduced discipline mind character transformation enabled

organise franchise agitate worked destroy gods essence

element element elements being wonder belief service risk

courage fortunes chorus inflame action the the the the

the the the the the the the the the the the the the the

the the the the the the the the the the the the the the

the the the the the the the the the the the the the the

the the the the the the the the the the the the the the

the the the the the the the the the the the the the end

Photo: cut out words on lines of a poem by Robin Coste Lewis

Kind

Kind-ness /ˈkʌɪn(d)nɪs/ (noun) My sister is one of a kind      one of the kindest people      she treats an injured house martin with the same care as a grazed knee in her Kindergarten      or their parent’s distress      It’s a spring up in the woods      its source so deep it doesn’t even worry about replenishing itself      it’s the opposite of the roaring flames spitting outrage within the hot cast iron walls munching up kindling      bark      lumps of coal      it’s putting self on the shelf      mollycuddling everything and everyone else with softness      dousing the fire      Too much kindness kills

Kin-dred /ˈkɪndrəd/ (only before noun) It’s kin beyond blood and DNA      it’s knowing you’re of the same kind      kindheartedness      soul sisters      soul brothers      soul twins      entwined like we’ve known each other from before being conceived      seeing soul to soul      It’s like feeling at home in someone’s spirit      It’s not caring about burning in hell as long as we’re there together      it’s belonging when I don’t really      Feeding the fire      Too little of it starves

 

 

Inspired by the poem ‘Grandfather‘ by A. Van Jordan

 

 

Poetry challenge*

---

*Write a poem with these 31 words:

soup – Samson – railway – ease – purple – heroical – Hadrian – oak – imperceptible – rail – wealth – China – dreams – silver – balloon – cotton – orchid – red – may – Mars – lighthouse – glow – stone – cold – black – rain – sky – waves – fish – sun – Mount Zion

---

 

Petra

She is rock       she is all rocks

she is stone      grit      pebble      dust

scattered imperceptibly from Mount Zion

to reach every corner of Earth

She is promise

lost lighthouse of Alexandria

stones rebuilding Mostar Bridge

slabs of rain-slippery pack horse trails across moors

blackened sandstone in the factories of Cottonopolis

cold stones hurling down on Rokhshana

She is forsaking

She is stones in the Great Wall of China

Hadrian’s Wall       walls splitting open Berlin

Nicosia       keeping poverty this side of Tijuana

injustice in place in the West Bank

She is patience

she knows in the end every great wall becomes

a place of pilgrimage       walls built in waves of rage

railing under the spell of heroical Mars

blood red Mars       blood stained Mars

taken over by purple orchids

forests of oak trees       a wealth of Banksys

girl flying off with balloons       the surprise of palm trees

silver sea blue sky

She’s remembering

Samson’s touch       glowing a sun

when he pushed himself out       beyond all limits

and back in with a chance

Stones need rule breakers like him

who wasn’t to be defined by boundaries

so walls may become starting points

crossing points       points of trade       exchange

networks       meetings       openings

kissing gates

She is not giving up

the ease of climbers top-roping up sandstone pillars

of Cologne’s railway bridge

stone soup foxing a village into generosity

Mary Anning’s fish lizard       dug deep

into mudstone cliffs

She is the old city of dreams still dreaming

 

Deep mapping

Because today 18 years ago I arrived

on this island       destination Manchester

because everything I remembered

hides under more layers of change

than my own       frightening as that poem

I read today about the sea changing

from being unpossessed & unownable

to dangerous       Because today

memories that resisted excavation

pop open like Himalayan Balsam

that’s said to have travelled stowaway

to Lancashire mills in bales of cotton

Today I walk across footprints of Peterloo

Amritsar      Sharpeville      air sickly sweet

with poor-man’s-orchid by the canal

flowing discreetly through privately owned land

Because the city’s richest developer

owns more mills than hearts also the mayor’s

homelessness charity       Because today

in a forest of billboards      digital displays

posters      with turquoise images of the Queen

I find myself in front of the postbox

I’d never forgotten      the one that withstood

1500kg explosive power of the IRA bomb

that summer I was working in a refugee camp

in Bosnia      because 2 minutes after the Palace

announced Her passing      the media muses

the necessary changing of Royal symbols

only post boxes will stay again     Later

when I get back from Manchester

I read in the news that today of all days

police arrested a man thought responsible

for the 1996 bombing       words like

accountability     justice    reinvestigations

next to an investigation into Streatham police

shooting an unarmed Black man 2 days ago

while I was at anti-racism even in Manchester

Mamas Hände

She’s always used her pinky to pinpoint

drawing the line of her ancestry from Pommern

to the bombed out tanks on the only tarmacked road for miles

in an area so flat they looked like another megalithic tomb

She follows the atlas’ shifty boundaries of countries

and centuries like a palm reader        deciphering lineages

pointing out delineations        with concaved fingers

forever blushed as if freshly scrubbed        a legacy perhaps

from her days as intensive care nurse        or a childhood

of walking past the horse-drawn plough to pick up stones

Her nails still clipped short and round as half moons

like when she read us Sterntaler at bed time