Misoon El-Gomati

‘Crimson’

Tears fill my eyes and my heart weighs heavy on my chest

I loved and lost you

Yet see your face in the colours of the crimson flowers you once were 

The lofty heights you once aspired to left by the wayside as you creep to the right of all you declared sacred to you 

How could you abandon us?

We who loved, honoured and respected you 

You who held my hand and declared us one 

You who stood by me and my kinfolk as we toiled and strove for all that we hold dear

The foundations that you laid all those years ago, for the good of all that we believed in, now dismantled piece by piece by a once common enemy 

I observe you from afar and wonder if you'll ever capture my heart again?

Can we ever recover from the gut-wrenching betrayal you inflicted upon us? 

Maybe. One day. When your flowers lose their purple tinge

Altered in state from the deep crimson you once proudly displayed 

Having been seduced by courting bluer shades 

When you curb your desire for fame and fortune and realise that true love does not deny its heart 

That reclaiming all that made you good and pure can once again be achieved 

Simply sever all ties with your current beau and slide back to the left of all you were

 

This piece was written the day after the 2015 election results, and is inspired by how I felt about the Labour Party at the time. It’s written in the style of a romantic poem about a lover’s betrayal. The extended metaphor used throughout is the Labour Party’s red rose, hence the title ‘Crimson’, and references throughout the ‘deep crimson … proudly displayed’. The changes in colour from red to purple are seen as a direct consequence of being tainted by ‘courting bluer shades’. The colour blue here represents the Conservative Party, with the implication being that Labour’s values were tainted by associating too closely with their political adversary and ‘once common enemy’. 


‘Pillars’ 

Pillars that held up the foundation for so many edifices 

Impenetrable fortresses built before I was born 

Ensuring my walls always remained unyielding 

Behind each one lay tenacious characters 

Providing wisdom, pledges, refuge and love

 

He 

He is my beating heart 

Love so pure our iridescent colours combine as safety and security lays here

Miles and mountains travelled

Crossed words and cries were not heard 

Only love 

Expressed in a multitude of ways I struggle to name you 

 

I love you, with such force and strength I struggle to speak your name and reach out 

My life exploded and pieces of me shattered on the floor

I felt and feel too ashamed to call, to write, to text, to visit 

I run away from you, because I know in your presence, I only want to be the best version of me 

The me you knew so long ago

The me you moulded, into the remains of the woman I am today

 

I love you and I’m sorry I can’t be better

Be present 

Be the me you loved and nurtured 

Through stifling summer sojourns  

Coalescent car journeys 

Sweltering heat 

Made bearable only by your presence, by your love 

 

Part of me knows you won’t hold it over me 

Knows you love me like that too

You see it in how I love your kin, how’s she the beauty of the love she was moulded in too

So I send my regards and send my love via messengers 

 

I hope you know 

Part of me knows you know 

But I fear you won’t really know know, before time tears one of us away

I love you and I miss you

As I love me and miss me too

Or the part of me I once was 

 

I don’t mind that she no longer exists 

It’s just that what’s in place isn’t perfect 

And I fear my perfectionist ways will puncture and pique me in endless irreversibly broken ways

I love you because you showed me the purest expression of love 

Where others loved with fierce tones and fists you laughed 

Endless endless jokes 

I would wait. In anticipation in the back of the many cars you assembled by hand in times of hardship

Would sit behind you and listen in 

Out of place post-colonial red pillar boxes catch the corner of my eye, as I listen intently to your latest tale

The car erupting with laughter, love and warm memories, forever cemented in your presence 

 

You are love 

You are life and love itself in human form 

And this is my ode to you 

 

This poem forms the first part of what will become a wider collection on the theme of pillars, which represent the various figures in my life who have in some way impacted, shaped, or moulded me.  


‘The Journey’ 

The sound of your laughter 

Fills me with fear and trepidation 

Your pre-weekend merriment 

Spells disaster for me

The butterflies appear 

And my presence shines brighter than ever before 

All eyes on me 

 

Am I in the way?

Did I knock you by accident?

Have I done something wrong?

 

Their voices get louder 

As does their exuberance 

My fear only grows 

Nervously I check my surroundings 

In the most covert of manners 

 

It’s too late though

They’ve seen my crescent moon 

Cascading above my head 

 

I feel the bile rising in my throat

Summersaulting stomachs and goosebumped arms invade my body 

As they begin their journey around the domain they claim is theirs 

 

The looks and jeering begins 

As clanking cans and decanted drinks flow freely, fuelling their fury 

 

I quietly await 

Along with my fears

For the inevitable 

 

Wondering which one to fear ...

      First 

Which exit to turn to 

Which part of me to protect ....

      First 

I wrote this piece as a commentary and reflection on the many train journeys I have taken over the years as a woman who used to wear the hijab, represented here by the Islamic symbol of a ‘crescent moon’. The first stanza outlines the element of fear and anxiety felt by the ‘pre-weekend merriment’ when encountering groups of intoxicated men once they notice a lone Muslim woman on the same journey. 


Misoon.jpg

Written by Misoon El-Gomati

Misoon El-Gomati is a British-Libyan from York, with a passion for writing poetry, spoken word performances, social activism and Education. She has almost 20 years’ experience in the field of Education, activism and public speaking. Misoon’s unique perspective, in navigating and carving out niche spaces within places already considered unequalled and diverse, sheds a light on the day to day reality of being a woman and being othered.