The message of Clapham Common
is the old story repeated again and again
of the strength we find when together
we stand firm against force, arm in arm.
She paused at the back of the crowd
then mingled with the throng that day
not meaning to linger for long
but the anger she felt made her stay
Passionate voices rang out as night fell
over hundreds of women who’d gathered
amongst ghostly trees on that common
where deadly force had lingered and hunted.
“Our demands for protection will be heard
and the age-old right to protest defended,
as our sisters before us resisted
despite state violence and force-feeding in jail.”
She climbed onto the stage with the others
and their shouts filled the damp, dark night air
and sent a message of truth to those in power,
till gloved hands wrenched them back down.
Two hulking males pinned her down to the ground,
men who’d sworn oaths to protect and to serve
held her arms and knelt on her back,
as she lay in the mud on the earth.
Her candle’s flame flickered and died
and her snowdrops were crushed under foot
but her eyes flashed with fire and her gaze
at the camera was steadfast and resolute.
The story of Clapham Common
is the old tale repeated again and again
of the strength we find when together
we stand firm against force, arm in arm.