walkingborders

'Walking Borders: borders, risk and belonging' is funded by the Leverhulme Trust

Broken English

A poem by By Juliana Mensah, artist in residence at the Centre for Applied Human Rights, University of York.

human.writes.city

Lost Letters (Image by Matthew Knight) Image by Matthew Knight

Broken English

Sometimes the English is broken

and I don’t fix it.

Like the bone that snapped

after a misplaced step sent her tumbling.

It left the elbow at an angle

it was not designed to hold.

The joint that healed

(while she lay in the camp for the displaced)

grew too much cartilage,

and is stronger now

in that broken place.

Sometimes the English is broken

and I leave it.

Like the cracked glass with shards

refracting more rainbow

than the pane could ever hold.

Sometimes the English is broken

and I sit with it.

Listen to its song.

She has taken the time to

hold another’s tongue

in her mouth. Felt it sit

like a slug at the back of her teeth,

but did not vomit.

Held it in place. Held her breath,

exhaled, and let the words out

for the others who could…

View original post 164 more words

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Information

This entry was posted on March 13, 2017 by .
%d bloggers like this: