Poems
A collection of my poems
Thursday, 7 August 2014
Wednesday, 13 November 2013
THE COUPLE
They were bound by the children
When one spoke
the other wouldn't listen
They were punch-bags for their dark sides
Pent up animosity they nurtured like step children
and so they communicated
He breathed fire
She hissed scorn
Where ground was not gained
no love was lost
since their first born
Each gnawing the other's tail
He grew fat
she pale
No more the spring chickens
that roared with sexual passions
in shadows
under trees
in toilets
in cafes
where a hand slid onto a tingling crutch
set the tone of touch
Those fiery lovers don't exist;
as such
Still
They were bond by the children
who know their embrace
An outlet for their affections
given time and space
Where tenderness tingles
and touch matures
and smiles deeply blossom
where scorn needs a cure
But kids are for life
they had no idea back then
that they would drift towards opposing worlds
One of women
One of men
Which
when the children tired them
which was happening more and more
would raise their heads like Medusa dreads
and they'd passionately roar
For once, they were bound by a transient belief
a superficial ceremony
nod from a priest
wherever together
for better/worse
they feel at home
bound by the children
who now are duely bound
by children of their own
Oh blessed assurety
for they had this thing
where cocooned in an acceptance of doom
they behaver like boxers in a ring
where rules and civiliarity made recreation of their demise
Their handwaving and exhilaration
supplied their age group's excercise
See they were bound by guilt
within that matrimonial jail
of how they felt as animals
behind the common veil
His blazer
her dress
the smiles they worked for friends
Though anyone who saw them once
would recognise the trend
roaring
intense
passionate
unsaid
Without sticks and stones they persevered to make words hit that hard
Now bound in lust of love and hate
with spawn as playing cards
Essential Ashley
Ashley
speaks in non generic patterns that blot sparks
and every tree had a purpose
and every flower wether you loved it personally or not
once had a life
and every blade of grass was chistened with the photosynthesis of exploding heliums and to speculate heaven as religious folklore is to do it an injustice because you're in it
and there are no more exquisite guides than herself and the virgin Mary
because Ashley had this awesome courage to be free
and I was in awe
because I hadn't
speaks in non generic patterns that blot sparks
and every tree had a purpose
and every flower wether you loved it personally or not
once had a life
and every blade of grass was chistened with the photosynthesis of exploding heliums and to speculate heaven as religious folklore is to do it an injustice because you're in it
and there are no more exquisite guides than herself and the virgin Mary
because Ashley had this awesome courage to be free
and I was in awe
because I hadn't
Tuesday, 12 November 2013
Factually
The voting register categorised me as alpha to labour with visitations of free thinking on the label
My family live in the towers of babel
It's foundations have been unstable for a long time so mine is to vote simultaneously
make note of every think tank quote and step into the shallow end where there are no rules. There's a gene pool and a blunt end that has no friends
and that's where disbelievers like me look for a saviour
cause if we've ever needed a favour
even though the madness of perverted Christians once castigated me in self flagellation to gain submission and I saw the real light that some of you switched off leaving the third eye to man made heavens
Maybe we are taught virtue and sensitivity by those who have none
to narrow the competition in the race to find life forms on mars
whilst we're too young to change and too old to die
and adding everybody together makes nobody
Nobody says what everybody means
so no-one is anyone until someone screams
making us second fiddle to somebody's schemes
and someone's always trying to leave
so it's wise to try being the one to believe in if you need leading or want to have fun with it like an American movie with a gun in it where
the hero complex trickles down radio waves
covered in drunken spurts of adverts patronising homosapians
and not one can you trust
So when i'm looking at it all from the window of the night bus, I feel like I might just out of spite
rip off the roof like an absess tooth rots and just has to be gone
and its hard to preserve your very last nerve
cause your mind is like a bladder bursting
and the first thing you wanna do is the worst thing
since there is no high like truth and you know that for the most part they're all prats and pricks placed in a manifest matrix
with no way out of it
even if you anchored a concept in the pretext
like 16x16=256
the Cabala of my Taurus
with a relapsed rhythm of reliving my upbringing saving me from falling in
and drowning in labour class misery
or crashing into a bosom of peers with stolen ears
and clogged up eyes oozing to a melody of pick n mix songs of a need to belong
to a creation or a pound shop generation
where nobody talks to you cause you're not famous.
and each individual is blameless and nothing really changes
even if you flp the dread on its head and stigmatise the bigger guys
whose spoken words breath the life of deth into gunpowder and gold
yet are still incapable of extracting Excalibur
Their media feeding you advocates that there are no flies
on an entire civilisation
cultivated on lies
and the science of rotating, low vibrating violence
as if we were just category C tenants in 20 story tower blocks with neuro- impulses re-deployed by vertigo
when we are the energy waves, morphed into liquids susceptible to endorphins
and identities are soluble entities drained out of and trained into you
as subtly as you grow from innocence to in the know
and maybe it matters that
one day somebody will say that
you
lost
loads
at the cross roads
where the birch tree
sensing an opening
patented july's baddest Afro
its roots in the narrative that the blue pill leads to a vortex so intense that tissue can be disconnected from consciousness
I'd like you to want this and nouveau needs no vote
it gets by without hope
My family live in the towers of babel
It's foundations have been unstable for a long time so mine is to vote simultaneously
make note of every think tank quote and step into the shallow end where there are no rules. There's a gene pool and a blunt end that has no friends
and that's where disbelievers like me look for a saviour
cause if we've ever needed a favour
even though the madness of perverted Christians once castigated me in self flagellation to gain submission and I saw the real light that some of you switched off leaving the third eye to man made heavens
Maybe we are taught virtue and sensitivity by those who have none
to narrow the competition in the race to find life forms on mars
whilst we're too young to change and too old to die
and adding everybody together makes nobody
Nobody says what everybody means
so no-one is anyone until someone screams
making us second fiddle to somebody's schemes
and someone's always trying to leave
so it's wise to try being the one to believe in if you need leading or want to have fun with it like an American movie with a gun in it where
the hero complex trickles down radio waves
covered in drunken spurts of adverts patronising homosapians
and not one can you trust
So when i'm looking at it all from the window of the night bus, I feel like I might just out of spite
rip off the roof like an absess tooth rots and just has to be gone
and its hard to preserve your very last nerve
cause your mind is like a bladder bursting
and the first thing you wanna do is the worst thing
since there is no high like truth and you know that for the most part they're all prats and pricks placed in a manifest matrix
with no way out of it
even if you anchored a concept in the pretext
like 16x16=256
the Cabala of my Taurus
with a relapsed rhythm of reliving my upbringing saving me from falling in
and drowning in labour class misery
or crashing into a bosom of peers with stolen ears
and clogged up eyes oozing to a melody of pick n mix songs of a need to belong
to a creation or a pound shop generation
where nobody talks to you cause you're not famous.
and each individual is blameless and nothing really changes
even if you flp the dread on its head and stigmatise the bigger guys
whose spoken words breath the life of deth into gunpowder and gold
yet are still incapable of extracting Excalibur
Their media feeding you advocates that there are no flies
on an entire civilisation
cultivated on lies
and the science of rotating, low vibrating violence
as if we were just category C tenants in 20 story tower blocks with neuro- impulses re-deployed by vertigo
when we are the energy waves, morphed into liquids susceptible to endorphins
and identities are soluble entities drained out of and trained into you
as subtly as you grow from innocence to in the know
and maybe it matters that
one day somebody will say that
you
lost
loads
at the cross roads
where the birch tree
sensing an opening
patented july's baddest Afro
its roots in the narrative that the blue pill leads to a vortex so intense that tissue can be disconnected from consciousness
I'd like you to want this and nouveau needs no vote
it gets by without hope
I remember you
I don't even know if it's appropriate to say I love you
I know that i am intoxicated with the festival of you
in its hovering yesterdays
and sunsets where I lay on the lazy hillside of your skin
with the bass of your heart beating under my ear
carrying me on its hull
relaxing my eyes, curling my lips and us vanishing peacefully
Then after the darkness passed our dancing silhouettes always touched the dawn
fingertips, wrists, elbows, shoulders , bodies
But this one time there was a cold in the darkness ahead and uneventfully I woke up ded
and now living is dying with a mask on it
because somehow I was abandoned in our dream
Not for a second with chocolate and music but this time for lifetimes
and I wander, wondering why you've gone
If you can't find your way back
or if the tear I intrusted onto the palm of your left hand is drowning in the lifeline
far from it's ocean
so I was writing your name on my dog tag in a bottle because i don’t know where it's going
and the pen started rowing
knowing that our souls had shared heartbeats
as though my body was a tree and you were the crimson breeze blushing my leaves
and when they raced in autumns its because every part of me wants to go to you
and make fractal patterns of our dancing atoms with your every tone and incantation rising and falling inside of mine like waves under red moons
so I want you back more than a return ticket to youth
My skies are screaming and clouds are erratic because they can't find you but I know you're there but just beyond.
I see you through windows I never knew existed
In the words in a picture
and the chuckle of the earth before a harvest
Your laughter calls me to every double rainbow
and I hear you in silent hums at the doorstep
and I'm not sure wether it's appropriate to say I need you
but you said that you would never leave me
And I believe you
It's not so much remembering as I couldn't forget
Why would I
Why would you rest your head without a pillow
or carve the letters I etched on a tree
onto a gravestone and be alone
I need you in tomorrow's sunrise
but if tomorrow never comes then suffering has no shelf life
because now lasts forever
the future is here and you're not but
but my final exhale had your name in it before you had me at hello
and it'll continue into my birth scream so when they ask me what I want to be when I grow up I can honestly say ' your other half ' and show children that there's more reward in standing in tescos with you discussing rich tea or digestive than running the world or being a famous physician
so I will come to you
out of this red mist
that I didn't see coming
and I don't know where I'm going
and I hear the whispers of he's got issues but I just miss you more than I have tissues for this mess of loneliness I'm drenched in since you never said goodbye but left
and I began to stir waters too murky to show your reflection on the surface
I will come to you
in the dark tempest
hurling debris the four corners of our circle
and I don't know if its enough to say it's about love
Losing you my hand lost it's
glove
and scratching at the past leaves needles under my fingernails
and now my hands won't stop pouring the blood of the memories that I keep involuntarily trying to murder
but I miss watching you breath. That it made me high and never so grounded as to question why that was more soothing than hollywood matinee symphonies
or why if you were on tv I would become an addict
freeze frame stills
comfort eat
and refuse to see a medic without my screen
It wouldn't be so tragic since
I choose to die looking at you anyway
Sunday, 21 April 2013
State of play today
Bible slandered
Wanting
Not wanted
Squandered
Overruled through ridicule
Tools forged in schools
With indoctrinations of lies as education
Lied to
Lied about
pseudo scientific lies
Historic lies
Geographic lies
Religious lies
The hunter tells the story
not the lion
The brown skinned boy , referenced black man
demonised in demon's eyes
Degraded
emasculated
Terrorised
Sodomised
bastardised , still we rise
muddied
Bloodied
to bloody hell
bloody well studied well
Played raw
Paid for and
made into poor black folk
Nice black guys chuckle along at black jokes
Displaced
living the malaise
of trance
Past is prose,
our present unprecedented
Disbanded and rebranded
Disengaged
behind endless smokescreens of misrepresentation justifying condemnation
Sisters try defecting
to cancer infecting assimilating
imitating
weaves and false tresses
perpetuate white boys mistresses
stimulating self hate day to day to second nature
but all you have to pray to is a
Caucasian Jesus, 12 disciples , moses , god and side-lined mother
now if they came from Africa then even I would laugh at ya
Culling you
while you
tell you
it's not me
It's you purging you
and there's more pleasures than sandstone
so elders witness grandsons thrown away in anthems
Yep, they do it like a brother
They do it like a dude
They do it like dis-embowelled warriors in an abstract war
Seasoned with silence of suffered women
Cool black guys laugh at a harmless bit of ribbing.
They don't have a chip on their shoulder.
Hang ups
issues
misguided isms
Free from deserts
desert dogs
warlords
nomads
infant mortality
screams of the sleepless
Alright black guys are with it
They got lyrics
They talk in rap like
spoof zealots
parodies of westerns
it's so entertaining
When Tarantino glove puppets
and MTV minstrels
play pied piper
for lick shot young shotters
with big man shooters
from any military base
passed past noses of military brass
without a tributary of a trace , registration or investigation
and blind
blind sided
uninformed
misguided
ill fated entrepreneurs of government provided coke and anybody else's weed
Seeking icons among victims. Escape routes among detainees. Answers from the asking. Reacting
and reacting to the actions of reactions
Acting
Packed in
Aggravated
Impacting
Pop full stops on the story of living with a pride of snipers
off loading surplus grievance to the mind's mirror
Well adjusted black guys have a giggle with the boys cause it's only a bubble and a titillated audience raise a glass and a subsidised chuckle since according to the stats
more white boys are arrested for street and drug related violence than blacks
Polluted with intense inter-competition
so disfranchised that its all consuming
Tormenting
Revolving
Stopped ! and searched
singled out to make
contrasting fates
Them's the breaks
Friendly black guys laugh at all friendly black jokes made by his new mates
The best you'll get for a sense of entitlement
Nigarised with collusion cause some recognition's better than nothing
Devalued as sub human. Neanderthal primitive
So trivialised everybody got a nationality but you nerve wracked emasculated warriors evaded by battle
Abandoned
Subject to degradation,
humiliation
Disjointed
Untested
stunted ;
Deflated
Inflicted
Implicated
Violated
Cheated
Mis-treated
Patronised
Marginalised
Disfranchised
Automatically criminalised
detained
Desensitised
Scapegoated
Played for votes
Conscripted
Depicted
Inflicted with distrust
Socially cautious
Mentally nauseous
Nice black guys laugh at black jokes
he's just like us
Relentlessly subjugated
Bypassed
Typecast
Speculated as
sociopathically opportunistic ; enthusiastic. Will make a song about it denigrating sisters
Those Gesticulating
Gang bating
brother hating
Reaching for the skin bleaching
Over sexualised
Barely recognised
Seeking status
in other races
manipulated
Conditionally integrated
This is under stated
Mothers coasting
Motherland hosting
outscourced conflicts
Natives burn the soil of her to vacate districts for western industrialists
still the empire's willing bitch
Hosting laboratory made HIV and AIDS
depopulating the trustees
hosting flies that suck from eyes of kids who could've been me except
Africans don't mate
diasporic
don't mate africans
We dis-associate
Disrespect
Don't re-invest
Add to the mess
No togetherness makes us powerless
and penniless hence underrepresented in business and congress
Tethered to a history of
Arab then Muslim enslavement
Then Jews abused
for industrialism's fuse
Now in the light of
European nazism
American ill-treatment
U.k subjugation
Australian rejection
Asian de-humanisation
pleasant , forward thinking black guys laugh at flippant black jokes
Africa sinks into the pockets of who hasn't had a piece yet
everybody stares at , shrugs shoulders and sniggers in passing at
the future underclass
whilst we are consequently dying
Tuesday, 16 April 2013
COLONIST
Ubiquitously
Suffocating
Hell driven
Parasitical
Progress obsessed
Money praising
greedy
Low vibrating
Pontificating
Depreciating
Veil wearing
Culture bastardising
Love lacking
Fair fight fearing
Bland till overbearing
Lucifer endearing
Cloak and dagger mannequin
AAAARRRRGGGGHH !!!!!
Alphabetically
arrogant
Barbaric
Counter intuitive
Disconnected
Elitist
fortressed
Greeeedy
Hypocritical
Irresponsible
jingoistic
Kaniving
lecherous
malicious
negligent
Opulent
Perverted
Quintessential
Ruthless
Sodomising
Two-faced
underhand
vindictive
white
Xenophobic
yellow bellied
Zit
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