London, my London.
Shared in your name and lived under your spell
Lost in the flickering flame of a dream that took us there
New beginnings on sites of devastation

Brutal beginnings. of hands – held pitted and weary
When in cabinets their stories are told
whispers heard through the aural shelter
Earning respect, no matter skin or language

The Barbican saw our lives performed
at once impromptu and mundane
Secrets shared through visions of terrains exposed and re-framed
London fragments of a ruin again. yet eternally modern.

Now, in lo-fi gardens we find ourselves
With all our monsters conserved. dirty and beautiful
Forever surrounded by disturbances - minor but lucid
So our solace, for now, is contained – in four-squares

In the chapel of our Barbican forever
Regina embodied looms above us, in pearls + sadness
Barbican, we wont forget but now our journey continues
Meet us at the airport. A Modern Babylon is beckoning.

BARBICAN

2022 Semester 01