Spoke of unassailable truth and reconciliation?

Then we flounder in wars’ anniversaries.

Hold me while spirits of the past

And rivers of blood run through me.

All this past feeds this present

And brings the truth into me.

His story, your search, his journey ours,

Something rings true inside and strong.

I stand atop Piccadilly Tower and sing,

I belong, I belong.

I, the Mogadishan who knows troubled waters.

I, the Belfast man who knows troubled cities.

I, the Ethiopian who knows troubled lands.

I, the Serbian who crosses troubled seas.

Who walked through darkened valleys

Under the shadows of death and bled,

And who lay amongst the freshly killed

And in fear of tears played dead.

Those who have cried cities, sobbed roads,

In the name of here and where they came from,

Stand with children atop Bridgewater Hall

And sing, I belong here, I belong.

I am the blackest blackest blackest man,

The tongue twists the skin dark.

I moved next door to the whitest poet

In John Cooper Clarke.

I’m buried in the cemetery where Morrissey walked,

In the earth from where grew Stone Roses.

I am the seamstress for Manchester’s dream coat,

I designed the clothes for Moses.

I am the PSV, the sanctuary, the kitchen.

I am the reno red rhythm, the Bull Ring’s blues.

I am the dread in its red, and for all that’s said,

Wherever I go I am you.

I grew in the villages of Lancashire.

You stood on my horizon since birth.

The reason I came to Manchester

Is because it’s the greatest place on earth.

I bring my past, I bring my future,

I bring my rights and I bring my song.

I stand atop the Hacienda and shout,

We belong here, we belong.

Rest

Rest

(For Carol Ann Duffy)

I expect you might at some point tonight

Beneath the sheets before sleep,

Still reeling from the flaying lights,

Want or more likely seek

Rest. There is no manifesto in this,

Nor snake-like list of things to do.

There is no tomorrow, either.

There’s poetry, as ever, and you.

Adventure Flight

Adventure Flight

Third planet from the sun, this spinning earth.

Thousands of football cups but only one is first.

Here comes the light to break the pitch: the new day.

Crowds wake! Clouds break! The adventure is under way.

I will not waiver. I will not fall. I will not cower.

When under great pressure the great overpower.

We are equal in dreams – underdogs and over achievers.

We are nothing without adventures and believers.

There’s everything to gain: everything to prove.

Touch and be touched, move and be moved.

Summon all resources, steal chance, take risk.

The challenge, the adventure, the grit.

One game, one destiny, one goal, one curved ball of Earth.

One and all, young and old, more than gold is worth.

All four corners, this field this cup – our number one –