Children of the Soil

Children of the Soil

1

We children of the soil find solace in the sunrise,

From blue skies to green gardens

fresh air and violet pastures

I must be dreaming 

For children are to be seen and not heard

But in our case children are not seen and unearthed

Snatched from the breast of mother nature,

Dispersed

Her Dandelion seedlings carried on the winds of progress and promised lands,

No pore left unexplored

Mothers milk is spoiled now and her precious things they horde

New lands, strange place

Black smog, white face

And I still no time catch my breath/Stop

Shhhhhhhh

Sleep and dream my child

Their sins will be forgiven,

Do not worry about such earthly things

And leave them to their sinning

2

But mother, we children of the soil find solace in the sunlight.

The atmosphere is different,

the air is thick with shards of glass and people seem indifferent

It’s like …

sometimes I wonder if my unwanted surrogate recognises the violence that echoes out when

naming me,

like the butchering of a foreign name

A botanical conflict if you will.

Never before have a seen trees bow so low

The aftermath of battle wafts down my windpipe

A silent killer.

Death trickles sap-like

And trauma’s fruits are bitter

do not disturb the dirt (x2)

Shhhhhhhh

Sleep and dream my child

Their sins will be forgiven,

Do not worry about such earthly things

And leave them to their sinning
3

But mother

We children of the soil find solace in this sunlight,

where queer things like to grow,

Black roses, pansies and Black fugitivity’s,

with roots that are deeper than you’d ever really know

Mother, did you know that plants emit frequencies?

It’s like an, an ultrasonic scream

If you listen closely

you can hear the dead marching.

Shhhhhhhh

Sleep and dream my child

Their sins will be forgiven,

Do not worry about such earthly things

And leave them to their sinning

4.

We children of the soil have found solace in the sunlight,

Though there’s much we must attend. 

In distance lands with sacred hands the world begins to mend.

No longer left in darkness.

No chains around our thoughts

The air imbued with many things 

And  hearts all filled with hope. 

– Cameron Aitcheson-Labarr

We all want to make it.
Make it in our chosen career. Maybe make it big.

Sometimes perhaps just make it to pay day.
But whatever our ambition, what unites us all is the desire to thrive, be recognised – and be supported.
And that’s what Lambeth’s Creative Enterprise Zone is all about. Supporting creative people to do amazing creative things without having to leave our amazingly creative corner of south London.
Because we all want to make it – of course – but more than that, we want to Make It in Brixton.

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