Benjamin Zephaniah

Luv Song

How could I not know that the great Benjamin Zephaniah had written a poem about a hedgehog? Why is this not major news?

Okay – it was actually published in 1994, so possibly I missed the press release – but even so it was a delightful surprise to start getting emails from friends telling me that I should get the latest issue of Resurgence. I love the magazine but have stopped reading it due to the volume of other material I get … so it was lovely to have the excuse to wallow in its pages once more.¬†There is a very pretty little illustration with it as well which I copy here from Stu Jones’ website (and I will remove it once I get the answer I am seeking … there is a mission behind this posting …. )

But to the poem, it starts:

Luv Song

I am in luv wid a hedgehog

I’ve never felt this way before

I have luv fe dis hedgehog

An everyday I luv her more an more

And it goes on – and I love it as he loves the hedgehog … and I am wondering whether we can do something with this like we did a few posts ago with the amazing Turkish artist Elvan Alpay … with that post I asked if there was anyone who knew anyone who might know her and within 36 hours I was in email touch thanks to my brother in law … so … using the Kevin Bacon game principle that we are all interconnected … could we see how long it takes me to get in touch with Benjamin Zephaniah? I have been to his website and I can approach him through an agent, but I am sure that someone I know knows someone who knows someone who knows Benjamin! So spread the word … and see if it works again! Thanks.

2 thoughts on “Benjamin Zephaniah

  1. Sorry, I have no Benjamin connections. Just thought I would send you another hoggy poem, written by Philip Larkin (yes, he of ‘they fuck you up’ fame) It is short but charming though sad. No use at all for your current project of course! Good luck with the hunt for the amazing Benjamin.

    The Mower
    By Philip Larkin
    The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found
    A hedgehog jammed up against the blades,
    Killed. It had been in the long grass.

    I had seen it before, and even fed it, once.
    Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world
    Unmendably. Burial was no help:

    Next morning I got up and it did not.
    The first day after a death, the new absence
    Is always the same; we should be careful

    Of each other, we should be kind
    While there is still time.

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