Mother Britain: The Short Film Coming Soon

Thank you to everyone involved in the short film... from the young poets to the parkour peeps and the film-maker Hannah...

The premier of the film will be at the Noble Sage Art Gallery in a few weeks, dates to be confirmed.

If you are interested in viewing the short Film: Mother Britain get in touch...
The journey of youth poetic collective Words Apart and how they grasped with their identity's in multiculteral Britain, what ensues is them asking themselves what they truly are in a country of their birth but not their origins with the help of free-running....

'From Curry Hut to Jerk City, 2 for 2 to fufu,
black magic and vodoo, blessed souls
and pure hearts...
Britain is change, a paradoxial kingdom of 6 figure salaries
and 6 pounds and hour in the corner shop... ' - an extract from a poem in the short film - Dear Mother Britain.

Pearl in the Shell

Aint it funny

How a cut of fabric can shape your mind

Cloud your judgement

Fool your eyes

Failing to look beyond the medias lies

Branding me as oppressed 

But you fail to see what's inside

My body is under lock and key

But my soul?

My soul is free

You see

I dont know what's got you believing what you believe

If freedom lies in wearing skirts about my knees

Displaying my God-Given beauty

For hungry eyes to seize

Then what more than an object of desire does that make me?

When i pace the room

Its not the sway of my hips that have them looking

The stroke of my hair

Or the way i'm walking

It's the composure as a muslim woman I'm holding

It's the way I express my faith through my clothing

I let my personality do the talking

Responsibility?

Nah

This was given as a blessing.

By Zibz Hilwa, photographer, student and poet.  Also member of youth poetry collective 'Words Apart' 

My Country

How many lives were lost?

The ground bled red

With innocent blood

Slave masters, governors even king and queens

Orchestrating mass murder in their serene scenes

Imagine a mother,

wife and daughter’s cries of pain and frustration

Over bloody wars fought for the freedom of a nation

But not just on the battlefield politically as well

The appearance of this land epitomises hell

so the urge to progress independently

and become a country that can stand on its own

I speak critically for those who died before me

Their injustice were never told only

Because of an unimaginable tyranny

Trying to take one people’s hope to be free

I can never know

How many lives were lost?

The ground bled red

With innocent blood

I refuse to shun

The unimaginable truth

That whilst innocent people where being slaughtered

It made the wicked more financially supported

National heroes tried to defy this

And some executed in the process:

Samuel Sharpe, George William Gordon and Paul Bogle

All were men born in slavery and are notably noble

Who contributed to its abolishment as a whole

Where their stories and their role will forever be known

Den ova to de wuman, de Obeah wuman known as Nanny,

She herself freed over 800 slaves

her ferocious Maroons, feared by the British for what they displayed

they were untamed lions strong as mount Zion

whilst Marcus Garvey renown as he fought to outline

The abuse of Africans at the time

Norman Manley and Sir Alexander Bustamente

Involved in the struggle against colonial rule

Fought using their political tools

Took advantage of an empire going downhill

U see dem yout mi a talk bout

Mi av’ nuf respect fi dem cause

fe dem role in a de liberation of a country

that belongs to me

I will never know

How many lives were lost?

That turned the ground red

With innocent blood

Can warfare be used to release the oppressed into peace?

This dilemma we discuss on the news and the street

But the truth I believe is not in what we perceive

but in what we do

Like heroes in Jamaica did for me and you.

By Tajhame 'TJ" Jackson a poet, playwright and actor

Tajhame spent his childhood in Kingston, Jamaica until the age of 9 when he moved to North London. This poem was inspired by Jamaican history and his experiences there.

A clip of TJ performing this poem will appear on the blog soon!

The American McDream

The American McDream


Across the Vast mountainous plains lied a boy named Rocky,
The beautifully engrossing forests and calm blue sky catch the eye.
The vast desert and the canyons galore, often gives you the sense of grandeur,
But delusions of the mind lead to downfall. This is America.

Rocky, Native by appearance and works in a fast food joint,
Often he questions ‘what’s the point?’ as he refills the dips,
Before taking another order of Fillet O Fish and Chips.
As He attaches the kissable bun to the artificial cheese

His rough, armoured skin he scratches, lights the matches
Before explaining the past like he was opening the latch to a sealed soul,
‘Our history is Centauries old’ as we huddled from the cold
As a tragic story of human belligerence was told:

‘His ancestors were not American Citizens before 1924,
No, they weren’t because Columbus found them,
To him they owe a lot including bringing epidemic disease,’
Says Soft spoken Rocky in the ice cold breeze.

History’s horrifically manipulated historiography meant truth was a lie,
The Europeans Massacred to ‘civilise us.’ Nothing new there
Ironically society there and here is now almost equal and fair
As I almost feared Rocky’s cold as ice stare

Indian wars, tales of slavery the so called birth of the ‘New nation’
Death, sorrow, submission in contradiction to European elation
Whispers of reparation is equating gold for the soul,
As the constitution prescribed freedom but then human’s were also bought and sold.

Assimilation or isolation the choice was very clear,
Coerced cohesion causes catastrophic fear
Now wandering like ‘a tree without its roots’
A product consumed to work for the American McDream
And funnily enough they aren't 'loving it'

But alas for the Native American, ‘Democracy beckoned’
And the Victors do not play nice to those who come second
Because ‘Civilisation’ he explained was about working in McDonalds.
And ‘Freedom’ he said is being able to order a Big Mac.

By Mohamed-Zain Dada