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In the Balcony of a Sharrow Council Flat
In the Balcony of a Sharrow Council Flat I look at balconies, the washed laundries, the simple life of a Somali wife, With her long black scarf seems so sure of what she does. She waves, ‘Salam...
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The Colour Wheel: A reading
The Colour Wheel: A reading with the HEX POETS Friday 7th June – 6.30 to 7.30pm Bank Street Arts Centre Tickets: £4 (on the door only) The Sheffield Poetry Festival The Hex Poets are Angelina Ayers,...
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Portable Worlds
One of the stories presented at the Storying Sheffield Exhibition in June 2013 was this film which formed part of an installation. It takes an abstract approach to Shirin’s story, using her own...
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‘Psychosis’. A poem
This poem has been shared by a local writer who wishes to be known simply as “a Sheffield psychiatric patient”. Psychosis Untethered from my past and cast adrift I reach for the profound and...
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New Year
Many thanks to Shirin Teifouri for sharing this poem. New Year I am travelling from England to motherland to stare at my mother’s vanishing point into the new year, as far back as I remember I...
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If you do not see me smile
A poem by Krystal Wilkinson. If you do not see me smile Or it doesn’t reach my eyes It’s because I am exhausted Of pretence, and all the lies. I’m dreading to be asked “are you ok? What do you need” I...
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Two poems by Sammi
My name is Sammi, I’m an ex-dependent drinker and am a service-user of DISC supported housing. Throughout my recovery poetry has been an important and helpful tool. It has helped me to express my...
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Ley Lines
Ley Lines I found my father’s funeral programme Stuffed in the side-pocket of my car. His now crumpled, kind face stares across The ancient landscape of the Oxford Downs, Perhaps searching for the ley...
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Please
By Matilda Webb Excerpted from our new publication Gradients. Glimpses of Sheffield. The rain falls slow and heavy, stinging your skin. You shiver in time with the trees watching a bouncy castle wilt...
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Where’s Julie?
Thanks to Julie for this poem. The picture is of work by John Holt. Where’s Julie? Where is the smile I used to see, the one that said, ” I’m glad to be me” ? Where is the face I used to know, the one...
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