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.

Northern Soul 

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.