- Africa
- anthropology
- anti-racism
- asylum
- asylum seekers
- backpacking
- bristol
- calais
- capitalism
- caribbean
- child refugees
- children
- colonialism
- conservatives
- democratic republic of congo
- dictatorship
- digital media
- disappeared people
- DRC
- Dubs
- extremist right
- freedom of speech
- globalization
- Gulu
- holidays
- home
- homelessness
- humanitarian
- humanitarianism
- immigration
- independent media
- inequality
- journalism
- Kagame
- migrant crisis
- migration
- new media
- podcast
- Poetry
- police violence
- privilege
- Prose
- racism
- recording
- refugee
- refugee crisis
- refugees
- robert goodwill
- Rwanda
- smuggling
- Sudan
- theresa may
- torture
- tourism
- trafficking
- travel
- Uganda
- unaccompanied child refugees
- unaccompanied children
- voices
- voyage
- whiteness
- white people
- white privilege
- white silence
Monthly Archives: October 2019
In the morning
That day was the marble rolling around the table edge. Child eyes. You in the false twilight, dew strewing your feet, you raked onto your bedposts behind the door as you would run past the old literature pages with your … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Writing
Leave a comment
Lower water
When I was held by the cold wind and its edged tendrils stroked my frost bones. When the sky opened all its gaping mass before me like the black night watching into the deep depths of an open throat, water … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Writing
Leave a comment
Straws
You saw the day bend like a plastic straw Falling further into the water, beyond sight Into to the deep and you lost grasp of it Completely Your heart turned over within your chest Your mind turned over behind your … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Writing
Leave a comment
When was Wednesday
There was nothing you could say – you knew. Your tongue knotted neatly inside your mouth. Your eyes shivering in their sockets, your eyes shaking. You were a long way under the sky that day you felt the weight of … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Writing
Leave a comment
Nothing
When you heard that voice you did not hear it. You were a tool to the song, to amplify it into an unknown, perhaps _. Through you it took more life and you did too; rushing as a person emerging … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Writing
Leave a comment