This is where I’m born and raised
The streets of yesterday seem so far away,
yet the sky feels redder with each new day—
Red with empathy, red with shame,
Red in remembrance of war games.
And as the years go speeding by,
I breathe it all in—how time flies
searching for fragments of yesterday,
In My mind

 You see, these are the streets of yesterday—
worn with stories, bold and grey.
They built me, broke me, made me rise,
 ’tis Yorkshire truth under northern skies.

China, marbles, holes in the ground,
Blackberries and raspberry prickly bramble
Cuts and scratches on arms and legs,
The days when dock leaves, where’s a kids best friend

The tadpoles, and returning frogs,
the chains of daisies and forget me nots,
the white sheets hanging up and down the streets,

 the rag bone man, egg and chips and, Yorkshire tea


When nature was our greatest adventure—
We’d be out 'til tea was called,
heroes of our stories, in the fields in the falls


an’ I always swore I’d never be
One of those who look back and say,
“Oh, it was better in my day.”
In some ways it was, in others, it wasn’t—
But my pride in Yorkshire has never forgotten

These are the streets of yesterday—
worn with stories, bold and grey.
They built me, broke me, made me rise,
 “Tis my Yorkshire truth under northern skies.

This is where I’m born and raised
. Born in St. James, placed into care,
Yorkshire-born, mixed-race—belonging nowhere.
Then I found my voice through pen and page,
and what I said began to matter.

In this spoken word patter,
See Leeds felt united,

Yorkshire people seemed to care,

 and look out for each other


And we marched for the pits, we marched against bombs,
we marched for Mandela, for peace, for all.
Every creed, every colour, every human life—
We raised our voices and stood up right
. We spoke for the persecuted, racially divided,
and fought for women’s rights—though they still denied it.

an danced for  gay pride, and equal rights

Fought for the NHs and Black Lives Matter
. We marched for the homeless, the lost, and the betrayed.
We marched for the future, for lessons relayed.

These are the streets of yesterday—
worn with stories, bold and grey.
They built me, broke me, made me rise,
Tis my Yorkshire truth under northern skies.

Now the sun is gone, the moon hangs high,
and the BBC stops telling the whole truth.
Why won’t the government listen?
To all its marching people,?
Every creed, every colour, every human life deserves to be equal
. We raised our voices and united

Two steps forward, ten steps back—
The shadow of fascism creeping into fact.


Behind the smoke screen, silent screams rise—
Missing people, refugees, grieving cries.
Why do they always lead with fear and attack?
These politics of demons who won’t look back.
Men who hold hungry bellies hostage,
Raise our taxes, hoard their wealth—
Billionaires in high towers, Power
mad with all that wealth.
We are made mentally ill, and divided
Strapped for cash yet Trident ready
. Egos and gatekeepers of an old world
that has long lost its soul., To power, greed and Gold.

These are the streets of today —
worn with stories, bold and grey.
They built me, broke me, made me rise,
Yorkshire truth under northern skies.

So, I sit in now and seed  for joy,

For times harvest, will yield or deny
. There is dew on the grass, and the sky is blue
. I go back to the forests and parks of my youth
. I go back to Yorkshire blunt

its  beauty, its  truth i
Nature,

Build  me, or break me 
and out of my Pitts,

we shall rise

Tis our Yorkshire truth  under northern skies

© Michelle Scally Clarke

ou see in this time

We need

 love and light

Kindness and smiles

To enter life

And banish the shadows

of yesterday fight

the fear inside

and so, I let go……

Blossom and grow

Heal and flow

nurtured in love

I choose to be this

This is my choice

It will benefit me

And so, benefit you

I need to feel the state of inner self

full of joy gratitude and heaven

For the many atoms that I could have become

This one is steeped with passion

Not quite ready to take my last breath

For now, here is my present

To love, give light and smile

Give thanks

And flow with empathy and compassion

I want that kind of wealth

Its rich abundance fruit of love

 harvesting for it daily

to find an honest truth

If I choose to be this

This is my choice

It will benefit me

So, benefit you

And we will be free to dance, rejoice a new Moon.

©Michelle scally Clarke