It was great to talk to Toby this morning on BBC Radio Sheffield‘s breakfast show about my new poem, Women of Steel, commissioned for National Poetry Day.
In a new project from BBC Local Radio, the Forward Arts Foundation, and Apples and Snakes, the 40 stations of BBC local radio are marking National Poetry Day by each broadcasting a poem commissioned from 40 #BBCLocalPoets.
The poem is inspired by the new Women of Steel statue that was put up in Barker’s Pool in Sheffield in the summer. The statue commemorates the work that women did in the war, particularly in the munitions factories, which has only recently begun to be properly recognised. My poem is inspired by the work of these women, by recovering histories and by telling stories that we often don’t hear.
We are sisters who clank through the streets
on rustless feet and chain linked arms
the deep pull of ore in our loins –
calls of ancestors deep in the rocks of yolk and plum and rust.
I polish her toes til they shine –
she deserves this at least and I know that she’d polish mine.
.
We are women of steel
women who do what we feel
women who do what we can
women who cry, women who rise
women at the heart of this town.
.
My nipples leak steel milk
and she keeps holding me up.
.
We are women who labour and birth
women who work, women who juggle
dark peaks and light, women who do what we can
when Cleethorpes’s too dear there’s the beach in town
the patch of sand that scratches our palms
sisters of steel squatting down.
.
I wipe orange streams from her cheeks
and keep holding her up.
.
We are women of steel
of hijabs and braids, of curly and straight
of blond hair and white
women who run, women who ride
women who lathe and grind
without gloves, we are women of three kids and twins on the way
and just a bit of peace
just a bit of peace please
.
She wipes crystal dust from my nails
and keeps holding me up.
.
We are women of hills
of limestone and grit
of ups and downs
of you can do it duck
we’ll get through it
we are women who nobody knows
guilt plated girls with lacquered legs
women of glad rags
of red crags, of sneaking bags back
from the foodbank
we are women of steel
.
I grip her shoulder
and keep holding her up.
.
women who do what we feel
women who do what we can
women who cry, women who rise
women at the heart of this town.
(Copyright, Rachel Bower)
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