@dis_critic beautifully articulates a new way of fighting old battles
We leave our voices in shop windows, volume set to paper level.
We tuck them inside coat pockets, so others can try them on for size.
we fold them into the leather of shoes, ready to travel.
Finger tips stained purple and green; knuckles hoarse,
We wind our voices round trees and lamp posts,
our material message, a chorus of suffragette song.
We sew our voices into the fabric of streets,
Knit them into our towns.
Etch them on slate.
We whisper them into the pages of books, and
We paint them the colour of sand –
each grain an echo of a foremother who passed our word down
– a word you thought we'd surrender along with our minds.
Instead, our voices
Found new shapes;
New ways to articulate
the threat we face.
And as our voices gather again in speakers' corners, and parks
And rise in unison outside Parliament,
They. Are. Louder. Stronger. More. Defiant.
So, see our voices. No!
Feel our voices
As they pulse with anger in the air.
We will spread the word.