A poem for Public House...

We commissioned London-based 'Next Generation' poet Jane Yeh to write a poem for this project.

These words will feature in our mass mobilisation and the film, so do have a good read. Let us know what you think on Facebook or Twitter. Which lines most strongly speak of Peckham to you? Does it evoke old memories or feelings? What else does it make you think about?

Jane's work has featured in a wide variety of publications, and last year the Poetry Book Society named her a 'Next Generation' poet. Her beautiful new work is just below, but for more, see Jane's own website or Twitter

Glitter in the trees.

Glitter and shadow. Leaves

Massing like birds or

Faces, clusters of people passing

Through the narrow

Streets, full of litter

And heroes. A serenade

Of buses down the road

From the spaceship

Library! Our incense

Is the smell of raw chicken

And tilapia in summer,

Our rough cassavas

Precious gems -- no

Stopping between the hours of

Primark and Rizla, only dancing

On a reservoir on top of

The world: look what

The cat dragged in. Oh angels

Of Peckham, from the nail bars

To the Common, we sweep

Your fiery steps clean. The

Clink of glasses

Is found music, a belated

Poem: our temple to lager

And order, archive

Of dogs lost, old

House holding our stories between

Its boards (please

Respect the neighbours). In

This ragged and ordinary

Palace, our voices merge

Like rustling leaves. The way

A dozen tea lights make

A constellation: stars

In the dark, our collective dreams.