29 June – 16 July 2017

Sangam 2017 Harshdeep Kaur

Young Identity

July 12, 2017

Young Identity’s poetic responses to Sangam 2017 Harshdeep Kaur:

Swan Song 

Her feet would not straighten
Curled into fists,
her toes were rictus strips of calluses
Her swollen joints gave rusted groans
Years of self evolution had changed the foundations she walks on
She sways in unknown lotus gait
She too had bound her feet and danced on pointed tips
Endured the grinding down of her bones

Searching for perfection
Pouring life into craft
She still remembers her birdcage song
The covetous jewels that braided her neck
And the women with their coveting eyes
who played her til her voice broke

Who wrapped her in gossamer chains
And lacework brands
And bid her
Sing
little song bird

Til her song cracked
And scattered like broken glass
beneath her bound feet
and all the while she danced
on broken edges

Dreaming of skies
without bars
without chains
without song

– Joella Todd

 

Harshdeep 

Those golden words, the honey dipped sufi music, relieving the stress one word at a time.
Oh Harshdeep, thank you for making us feel complete.
To that overenthusiastic crowd, you made all the difference.
That music made me homesick, Young Identity is home away from home, MIF who made this happen.
It was beautiful. So glad I’m in Manchester at this time of the year.

– Anuj Prajapati

 

 

 

 Cortez and I

 Your sunburnt eyes
cried to the crescent moon,
you sealed serenity in a bottle
sent it adrift.

Stalked, unhappiness
unfeathered your wings-
left you hunchbacked,
entombed, egoless.

Suffocated, in silence,
I choked you.

You felt like you were drowning in my beautiful blues.
You couldn’t see what was in our bed.

You’re afraid of my depth,
my undercurrents, too strong.

In your calculated consciousness,
you pursed fragile fragments of ash
that couldn’t last.

I, the expression of warrior,
encountered two tides,
hot and cold,
blessing and birthing,
ecosystems to exist.

Eating fear as though it was nothing,
I exposed the lies
that wept from your skin.

You drowned in my depths,
laying scattered at the bottom of the ocean,
a shipwreck.

– Nicole May

 

 

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