I wrote this poem to commemorate the raising of the bridges. Hull is unique. It is built on the river Hull. There are thirteen bridges connecting the two halves of the city. All thirteen can be raised. No other city in the world can do this.
As part of the City of Culture all the bridges will be raised. I wanted to celebrate this with a poem.
Hull Bridges
Hull bridges raise their hands to the sky
East and West torn apart
But the twain shall meet again.
For Hull bridges have no feet of stone
Rather limbs that reach.
No city in the world is so apart
And so together.
Apart – together – again and again
To release those that pass beneath
They raise their arms in joy.
Hull – the unique city on the river
Where every bridge does move
More like living beasts
Like the leaves of a book
Like arms that embrace
They move
They lift
They raise
They allow passage, commerce and fun.
To release those that pass above
They cross their arms
They join in a handshake that links
Two communities
Two sides
Two banks
Like no other.
Yet for one short time
They will all raise together
And the city is split
Like no other in the world.
The city parts
A hiatus
Then is joined
Healed.
Hull bridges live and move
Not frozen
But alive.
No other city sports such versatility
Such elevation
Such cleaving.
No other city is split by rivers in such a way.
Across that divide
Tigers roar and robins strut
Black and white
Red and white
Black and amber
Colours joined
Into one.
One city
One people
Joined.
One Hull.
Opher 5.7.2017
This is like trick question time at the pub quizz. Coz I just happen to know there’s only 12 bridges that can be raised as the 13th bridge is permanently raised and is therefore, no longer used as a bridge.
Opher, I am confused ” a City divided” you make Hull sound like Israel and Palestine. A nice read.
It isn’t quite that bad Anna but it is strange the way cities do divide. In Liverpool there is the Everton and Liverpool, in Manchester its United and City, In Hull it’s FC and Rovers. It is amazing how much of a division sport makes. The two sides of Hull are very different in character but they are joined by their bridges.
The project to divide the city in two by raising all the bridges simultaneously was put together by two of my friends. I’m on the committee and we got funding. It is quite a big enterprise.
Hull Kingston Rovers are a Rugby League team – a completely different game entirely. Quite how they can be compared to the rivalry of Everton/Liverpool or Man Unt/City is remarkable.
Good old Hull … this brings back some fond memories. It reminds me of some of Philip Larkin’s, like this one:
The poem
Swerving east, from rich industrial shadows
And traffic all night north; swerving through fields
Too thin and thistled to be called meadows,
And now and then a harsh-named halt, that shields
Workmen at dawn; swerving to solitude
Of skies and scarecrows, haystacks, hares and pheasants,
And the widening river’s slow presence,
The piled gold clouds, the shining gull-marked mud,
Gathers to the surprise of a large town:
Here domes and statues, spires and cranes cluster
Beside grain-scattered streets, barge-crowded water,
And residents from raw estates, brought down
The dead straight miles by stealing flat-faced trolleys,
Push through plate-glass swing doors to their desires –
Cheap suits, red kitchen-ware, sharp shoes, iced lollies,
Electric mixers, toasters, washers, driers –
A cut-price crowd, urban yet simple, dwelling
Where only salesmen and relations come
Within a terminate and fishy-smelling
Pastoral of ships up streets, the slave museum,
Tattoo-shops, consulates, grim head-scarfed wives;
And out beyond its mortgaged half-built edges
Fast-shadowed wheat-fields, running high as hedges,
Isolate villages, where removed lives
Loneliness clarifies. Here silence stands
Like heat. Here leaves unnoticed thicken,
Hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken,
Luminously-peopled air ascends;
And past the poppies bluish neutral distance
Ends the land suddenly beyond a beach
Of shapes and shingle. Here is unfenced existence:
Facing the sun, untalkative, out of reach.
I’ve not read that one before Dave – very evocative of Hull.