Nicola Anthony

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A poem about Migration - part of the Sovereign Art Prize shortlisted work 'Poetry Net (I)'




The artwork Poetry Net (I) has been shortlisted for the Sovereign Asian Art Prize. It is a text-artwork featuring the poem shown below.

The poem represents the sentiments of hundreds of migrants and refugees I have spoken with about how they deal with being without a home, isolation, crisis, social disconnect, shifting identities, and battling with a sense of 'otherness'. The poem is inspired by fragments of their prayers, mantras, advice, actions, sayings, aphorisms - These sentiments stood out as a shared human mantra.


The thread that binds

(c) Nicola Anthony, 2019





To leave home is to lose, and to loosen your soul

Frail hope is the thread, that is keeping us whole

Without choice we stay strong, we preserve, hold together

Bound in our beliefs, lullabies and wise oaths

But your mind comes untied, when you've left in your wake 

All the places and faces that you had to forsake




Time heals all wounds - but some wounds become us

Unravel your self, find a jewel in the lotus

In this porcelain skin, some cracks remain open, 

we must bear them, become them, love them and own them

Find meaning within them, to be finally free,

“Om mani padme hum”, rebuild gold joinery.




The past haunts our eyes, we’re all in the same vessel

Sharing fragments of memories, fears, hopes and blessings 

Share warm bread and butter, and sometimes starvation,

find ways to endure, to survive isolation 

Wish “Shalom aleichem”, “blessed day”, the Salaam

to those here again, seeking peace from this path.




Let’s imagine a future of hope for lost nations,

an oasis, a freedom, a sense of elation

Like magnetic north it guides us and spurs us

from port and to stern, across oceans to stations

This endless migration a turbulent fleeing, 

Our tip-toes on eggshells, walk on without seeing




For how can you fathom your self not at home

not with your familiar, not where you were grown,

but endlessly lurching from limbo to holding.

Poised on a knife-edge in this to and fro

Lost, alone, homeless, even trust is erased

Locals groan with suspicion, disdain and dismay.



Uncounted statistics we’re inked on a page

But let none take your faith, your name or your sage.

And while every step counts, in the race to survive

in the margins your mind utters: “This is not life!

You're asleep or with God up in heaven or hell?”

Some hear Mother Gaia in soil or seashells.




“If you’re helpless, recall me”, she told me that once.

“In your heart I am present, in laughter I’m here”.

We all need an angel, to dislodge our fear

Our mottos and mantras drift under our breath, 

tradition erodes and we need something else,

hold your amulet close and your rabbit’s foot near.




When the moon rules at night, dark truth crudely gleams,

A failed promise held tight pierced into your dreams.

Who are you? Who are we? Why are we an enigma?

Don’t reproach yourself friend, don’t accept any stigma:

Your story is theirs, we all hail from this Earth, 

A throw of the dice destined each place of birth.




We dream of escape - yet we sail through regret, 

count our time and our aches on a Rosary thread

Will we voyage for some days, or some months, even life? 

When landing at last, there’s clear damage, despite

some looking to Christ, Allah, tweets or the Book

Who's now at the helm? You must be the one, 




to advocate, anchor, respect yourself, run, 

for nautical thoughts could carry us on

in directions we all have vowed not to steer down.

Diaphanous boats, now we must stay afloat.

Old and young whisper “Amen”, “O-M-G”...

Some speak of Our Father, chant syllables, “Ohm…” 




and O-shaped mouths hum, oscillate, marking time.

Still we cling to our rocks, each of us oyster-like,

encircled by shells, full of courage and grime

Curl up in your hulls, in your cloaked, hidden worlds

shield kindred and clan, pray once and for all

Towards concocted boundaries we all feel the pull.




Outside your familiar, you gather new labels, 

No sense of belonging, you find yourself empty

Assembling omens whilst crossing new borders

- of land and of mind - in some other’s shoes.

Dancing and singing, cooking and spinning 

can shield us from mulling the ominous noose.




We  make  applications,  while we look  for a haven,  

proofs  and credentials,  to harbour our children.

Leap  hurdles  of red tape:  new walls to us  pilgrims

Solve  paperwork  riddles, sign,  stamp, validation

Some  race to  lose race,  only then to  collide with  

intolerance,  bigots, malfeasance  and cliques.




But  let’s  not forget,  some welcomed  us here

They’ve  empathised,  hugged us, and  helped us endear

ourselves  to the nation,  our new state of  being.

When  feeling  less Other,  no longer less-than:

we  find  wisdom  to cede  the unchangeable  plan

and  the courage  to change the  things that we can.







Dispersed  in new places  we’re wild scattered  seeds:

some  buried,  some saved  and some may  not succeed

Shibboleth  can trip us,  and words can disown  us

Inner  voice don’t  bemoan us - just  save our souls please.

When  we reach  gilted shores,  now our roots cannot  take,

part  of us  still marooned  in a faraway place.





The  constant  night sky  reveals one  saving grace:

We’re  the same  as before -  but stronger, displaced.

Hold  on to  your truth,  what’s within  your own heart

and  serenely  accept, those  things you can’t  change.

Love  will keep  us strong: l'amourliebedragoste,

Ahavah,  pyaar (प्यार ),  ài (爱), or  rakkaus.





(c) Nicola Anthony, 2019




In the artwork, the poem is cut out of recycled translucent plastic films by hand and by machine, which I have repurposed to turning them into lace-like structures of text, which remind me of nylon fishing nets.





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