I am the North in Northern Soul
This weekend marked Northern Soul‘s second birthday. To commemorate the occasion, Northern Soul‘s Poetry Correspondent Wendy Pratt has written this poem.
I’m the dull, soot-scarred smoke stacks,
a cobble, felt through a cheap plimsoll.
I’m Friday’s fish and chips, I’m the bacon fat
your mam used to fry with. I‘m the biting cold
of a South Shields wind. I’m kids playing out
on Coronation Street. I’m Ted Hughes tackling
Hardcastle Crags, a game of tag, a pint of stout.
I’m Life on Mars, Brideshead Revisited, I’m Cathy,
I’m Heathcliff, I’m all the Brontë sisters. I’m cold cuts,
I’m Kes. I am the miners’ strike. I’m hard work,
I’m Hillsborough. I’m Eyup! I’m not making a fuss,
I’m the one who won’t shut up. I’m mosques, I’m churches,
I’m hard as nails, no messing about, I’m heart of gold.
I’m moorland-industrial. I am the North in Northern Soul.
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