a swarm

people with reasons only they must justify

to leave their home

uprooted by corruption, oppression and warfare

show us the statistics which validate their

sub-human status which the misadvised

have already prescribed

already assigned

already denied to lend ears and hours of empathy

tell me their names

tell me their aspirations

tell me their fears

not in my name will you barricade this nation.


I am half

cast away the weighty envelope

into the crimson red box

once again

I must clarify recurring doubts

surely I am no less entitled since the three books prior

each with delicate gold lettering

bound in red, concealing a younger face

a birthplace

which remains unchanged, would you believe?

my third decade began in May

yet, question three accusingly asked how long I broke my stay.

I remember unpacking possessions with thirteen year old hands

east of Rotterdam, we created a home

three years lived within the Netherlands

The form I completed to the best of my knowledge

laboriously filled,

a pledge that I am still who you say I am


Yes, this parent’s details are correct.

surely it should not affect the outcome of my little red book

if only they’d just carefully look, already

exceeding ‘standard’ waiting time

British citizenship was always hers,

as has it always been mine.

we are continually expanding

11th Bedroom

A bookshelf filled with knowledge

Supporting a globe, silver and grey


So saturated in life

Condensed into a sphere

With all shades of grey and silver

Borders divide river

Forest and marshland


Of families who reside

On arid land masses

Whose ancestors sung proud in an archaic tongue

Unknown to the ear of the present day young

Books beneath the globe

Tell all that was omitted

All that was permitted

By mortals

Who thrived on the same terrain

Who once felt they had something to gain

Entitled to a purpose