Where Ideas Grow

A blog for students of creative writing at York St John University


Up here we’ve seen it all
we’ve kicked and we’ve fought
with our backs to the wall, for too long 
we have been a city, forgotten.  

The shadows of yesteryear still loom large,
where the blue bastard bullies, 
spat in the faces of our ancestors, 
and damned us with

And yet, that’s why I love where I’m from,
I love that we embrace our past; 
I love that we are a city reborn
from the ashes of those who worked   

In the dark 
In the smoke
In the heat  
In the dirt. 

Our community is its heartbeat,
no matter how far I go, 
or what becomes of me 
I am still a ‘wee bonny lad’, 
bleeding black and white, 
with Geordie bones crafted 
from strongest shipyard steel.     

I never forget where I come from, 
Nor, the strength it took to leave.
my heart will forever belong  
to yem. 

Elliott Scriven

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