23 April 2015



(Song of The Economic Migrant)

Between lives
And in the middle of this sea
Which  rises and falls
To the thrumming of my heart.

Faraway our village sits
In my valley
Where father raised goats
Till the laughing gunmen came
In their jeep.
Nana squeezes my hand,
Looks into my eyes,
Whispers her blessing
Then I leave.

Between places -
Hope in all these fearful faces -
Our memories dance
To the humming of the "Johnson" outboard.

Beyond that blue horizon
Our new lives wait
We will be safe there
I  will work and work and work
Maybe one day
See The Arsenal play
Ride in black taxi
Eat KFC from cardboard box.

If opportunity knocks
In the EU -
Not far to go Nana...
We will soon be there...
I will send money
As I promised...
I can see the island now.


  1. This country may be going to the dogs but it is paradise to anyone living in Eritrea.

    It's a good poem but I would be happier had it not been necessary to write it.

  2. I feel 900 spirits soaring as they speak to us all.

  3. One of the good things to do about the horrendous migrant situation is write about it.

  4. I agree with Adrian's response...

  5. ADRIAN, MAMA THYME, RED & LEE - Thank you for reading my poem and considering it. I am not sure what to think of the boat people arriving in Europe. I guess they are a mixture. Desperate people escaping the terrors of Syria or Somalia and fortune seeking young men, people who are simply in search of a better life. And I am not sure how European countries should react. How can they tackle the ruthless people traffickers or identify the boats that are waiting in lawless Libya?

  6. It's a very difficult one, Yorky...a problem not easily solved and not easily solved any time soon, unfortunately.


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