Poems from the Iona Community 2022

Last year, the Pilgrimage on the Margins listened to people and amplified truths revealed by people from communities on the margins across the UK. Eight pilgrimage events took place throughout the year, including one on the island of Iona, where our friends the Iona Community hosted a group of 20 people involved in our networks who have lived experience of poverty.

The participants wrote several anonymous poems reflecting on dignity and agency. We have captured and transcribed the poems below. 

Poem One

Starved like in winter

Hungry for new direction

Take Observation

Poem Two

Birds take flight above

Rabbits feeding down below

Sea crashing to shore

Sun shining through Cloudy Sky

A humbling sight to behold

Poem Three

I have a voice!

Why do you not hear it?

Are you under water?

She knows what I really mean

I go RED trying to speak

I feel like a cat observed

But not really listened to

When my voice is heard my

Passion and hope shine through

Poem Four

A cigarette is the best and the worst

It is intoxication, poison, smelly…

Relaxing, calming, socialising

A breath of fresh air

Poverty is the worst

Poverty is poison

It’s intoxicating

Poverty brings socialising

Being a breath of fresh air

Poem Five

I call but do you listen?

I call but do you hear the noise?

Are you busy playing football?

Or playing with your toys?

I cry are you my comfort?

I cry are you holding out your hand?

Are you busy listening to music?

Do you not understand?

I call but do you hear me?

I call but are you here?

Are you busy playing board games?

Or walking around in fear?

I cry, my wails are louder

I cry, my heart it breaks

Do you give me your shoulder?

Or make a difference raising steaks?

I call till there is no voice left

I call, just hear my cry

Are you going to leave me calling?

Until the day I die?

I cry for the injustice

I cry please do respond

Will you leave me drowning?

Swimming in this pond?

She knows what I really mean

He knows what I really mean

They know what I really mean

Do you?

Are you wondering round like a tiger?

Are you burring your head like an ostrich?

Seeing the black or seeing red?

I hope you know what I really mean

Poem Six

I don’t think of fags

I think off meds

I don’t like the mess

I cannot get out of this mess

I choke and cough, then the cost

Of habit, in need or could I concede

Poverty is the cost of my meds before bread

I have no choice in actions

It is pain of a full belly to gain what’s really not me

For nobody can see

Poem Seven

She knows what I really mean

For everything begins with the unseen

She knows what I really mean

She cast a look, a word and she can be heard

She knows what I mean

Is the water clean?

Can I drink it if it’s green?

No, she knows what I mean

Stop being a queen

Scratching at the dream

Let the sun shine

And all will be fine

I hope

Poem Eight

Do you care

About what we have to share?

Even if people stop and stare

Let us open up, leave

Ourselves bare

But do you care if I’M THERE?

A story which I would like to share

Of poverty and cupboards bare

Please send me the fare

Surely you have money to spare

Do you care for my despair?

For my hunger is still there?

Poem Nine

She knows what I really mean

When I say it’s all too much

The water bill is so high

The gas, the electric too

But still, these red bills keep coming through

The door each day!

You never know, if I ignore them

Maybe they’ll go away

Prices are going through the roof

It’s getting expensive to even feed the cat

But I know that things are changing

And I remain in hope that the future will be better

For all of us to shine