Untold Stories: Poetry at English Heritage
Untold Stories – Poetry at English Heritage took place in the autumn of 2020. Through new commissions, a poetry exchange and a public competition the programme allowed us to experience English Heritage sites in new ways and offered opportunities for everyone to explore our past through poetry. The programme was co-curated by Jacob Sam-La Rose, English Heritage’s Poet in Residence. This digital anthology brings together a collection of works written as part of the programme. It features poems written in Shout Out Loud workshops led by Malika Booker; as part of the Untold Stories Poetry Competition; and by commissioned poets Esme Allman, Nii Ayikwei Parkes, Jay Bernard, Malika Booker, Safiya Kamaria Kinshasa and Jacob Sam-La Rose. english-heritage.org.uk/untold-stories
Untold Stories – Poetry at English Heritage took place in the autumn of 2020. Through new commissions, a poetry exchange and a public competition the programme allowed us to experience English Heritage sites in new ways and offered opportunities for everyone to explore our past through poetry. The programme was co-curated by Jacob Sam-La Rose, English Heritage’s Poet in Residence.
This digital anthology brings together a collection of works written as part of the programme. It features poems written in Shout Out Loud workshops led by Malika Booker; as part of the Untold Stories Poetry Competition; and by commissioned poets Esme Allman, Nii Ayikwei Parkes, Jay Bernard, Malika Booker, Safiya Kamaria Kinshasa and Jacob Sam-La Rose.
english-heritage.org.uk/untold-stories
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I can’t see anything more than two feet in front of my face now.<br />
The rain is whipping in my eyes<br />
My shirt was e<strong>at</strong>en through with w<strong>at</strong>er long ago<br />
And the wind seems intent on throwing me far away.<br />
I wonder if they had known it was this bad, if they’d have sent me out today?<br />
I don’t know how long I’ve been walking now.<br />
It must be a while.<br />
I can’t see the mill behind me any more.<br />
The torrent is like a drawn curtain<br />
And I can’t see the forge ahead<br />
And so I forge ahead<br />
Even though I’m blinded to the wide open fields<br />
And my bre<strong>at</strong>hing is laboured<br />
And my toes are icicles<br />
And every time I close my eyes they want to stay closed<br />
And I’ve been walking.<br />
There’s a tree over there.<br />
I think I’ll sit down to c<strong>at</strong>ch my bre<strong>at</strong>h<br />
And try to warm up my hands.<br />
Just for a moment<br />
And then I’ll keep walking.<br />
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