The Way I Flourish
Poems from Sheffield Flourish’s The Way I Flourish creative writing course, exploring themes of narrative, identity, journey and home.
In October 2020, Connected Worlds, one of the enterprises supported by local mental health charity Sheffield Flourish, ran a six week creative course called The Way I Flourish. It was designed and developed by people of colour, for people of colour, in collaboration with Dr Muna Abdi and Ola Fagbohun.
The aim was to provide a supportive and creative space for the group to express their thoughts and feelings and transform them into works of art. The fantastic writing which emerged during the course was themed around narrative and identity, heritage, journey, stereotyping, racism and home.
The following poems are some examples of the poetry written in the course workshops.
Leached
In a frigid white chamber seeping pink at the edges A leached girl fights for life as all girls must Maximised, minimised, forsaken Hailing false dawns in the whispering pages of soft-backed books Until it’s safe to bury the bones of the night In the middle of a chapter on the human condition Ten feet tall and still growing, she rises Curls her lashes with a thick black brush And asks the day to meet her half way For once
Susan Hunter Downer
MAYA
Some prophets say the world is gonna end tomorrow but they’re not reading from our books of love our books of hope, or the sweet stories we’ve heard of, They’re not listening to the rhythms of our hearts nor the thickness of our skin, sweetheart Whose world will end tomorrow? Not mine and certainly not yours, When we’ve only just opened the doors those doors our ancestors built for us as they were dreaming dreaming of being able to sit where they want on the bus of having seats at the table not a seat, but many seats, all seats Y’know, they built the table after all Sweetheart, isn’t it wonderful To know your world is just beginning blooming, opening like a never ending flower Darling, you were born on the cusp of power Sister, know your worth know all the good that you deserve Mother, thank you for having the nerve the audacity to change the world as they knew it back then Some prophets say the world is gonna end tomorrow but not mine and certainly not yours…
Wemmy Ogunyankin
From Madina to Sheffield
I was born in Madina Not Madina and Mecca Madina in Mogadishu I was born in a time of madness Mindless menacing men ran the city All the tall buildings missed teeth, Bullets scared them for life But still they stood tall and proud despite the holes in them just like us. Mum said walking was the only means of transport Countless check points on every corner Waiting for a chance to take a poor soul, The smell of burning rubber in the air above, dark smoke hovered like a helicopter, I have been my mother’s helper ever since I can remember moving to her music, like a machine I cooked, I cleaned, Don’t ask me how old I was, Where I came from, if you can walk you are old enough She was raising seven orphans, I came when she called, long before I was a student of the books I was a student of life Believe me I was born with a psychology degree I feel, I watch, I move around like the air Like I am endless, boundless Like no one sees me but I see everyone, I’m always looking in from the outside Like the man sat on the bench at the park pretend reading the newspaper Like this isn’t my life Like I’m here to speculate, When we landed in Sheffield in 07, It felt like being dropped in the middle of the ocean when you can’t swim The people who look like me couldn’t relate to me Some said you were lucky to have people who look like you in school I learned a different kind of fear, In my community, there are too many rules if you are a woman Don’t compete with boys Don’t go to University, Go to University but don’t be too educated Don’t do this Don’t do that Who is going to marry you if you are outspoken Your clocking is ticking The older you are, the less options you have Meanwhile my priorities are different My ideas are outlandish My purpose is world changing.
Najma Heybe
Journey With Me
Born and raised in Sheffield In the North of England The land of chimneys on rooftops, proudly emitting choking smoke Ascending up towards the sky like clouds moving with the wind infiltrating lungs whilst the birds still sing, I wondered what it would have been like to grow up in Jamaica The country of my parents’ birth With its white sand and calm blue sea Inseparable from the sky, watched from a distance Soft purring of the waves going in and out Sun glaring boldly, not hidden by clouds Unadulterated air of the countryside, I wondered what it would have been like to grow up in Jamaica The country of my parents’ birth I would have raised chickens and goats, Just like my mom Listened to the crickets piercing clicks in the moonlight And insects making their own music through the night Watched moonies and blinkies shine their bright lights I wondered what it would have been like to grow up in Jamaica The country of my parents’ birth Growing fruit and veg on family land Picking fruits from trees with my own hands Ripe mangoes falling to the floor, what a treat And coconut water drunk fresh from the husk Playing with friends and siblings - well into dusk Born and raised in Sheffield But my journey is an open sea Reaching beyond smoke and chimneys Measured by memories, and riches yet to see My journey was through my mother Who told me stories like no other.
Carol Whiteley
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