Thursday, 31 January 2013

decisions accept
or to decline
I'm wasting my time
sitting here
slowly sinking
back into an unreality...

the hollow

days pass by
dark circles beneath dark eyes
and yet another sleepless night
to follow
this be a hollow

real shadows

they're real 
shadows can feel 
too, you know.

girl- interrupted

Do you remember 
in Girl Interrupted
when Susanna erupted
and said she didn't know 
whether or not she was mad
well that bit made me sort of sad
and her troubled journal entries
 too, her wry observations
made me question 
all situations
 that I put down in words
were they real,
or were they like hers
unrelated, fabricated, desecrated,
Not sure why I was so captivated
by her, 
by the troubled writer girl- 
Hmm I don't know,
but I've come to know this; 
I am bound to my book, 
but my book is not me 
you see, humankind we
are not the sum 
of the worst thing
we've ever done. 

Wednesday, 30 January 2013

minds troubled

up in flames-
unspoken words
a never-ending train of them 
haunt minds troubled


at long last 
a chance
to write over the past
so I tread over old
footprints in the mud
thud, thud, thud, 
from the last time I was here
I screwed up then
it will probably happen again
but life-
 even though sometimes you're hard
even though lately
I've constantly been on guard-
thank you for existing
thank you for resisting, 
my pleas for you-
to give up on me. 


less than perfect
cracks beneath the surface
are beginning to show
less than perfect
there's no need to unearth it
it's time for you to go
see, you were wrong
it's clear to us all
you don't belong,
here any more

how it is now...

so this is how it is now
we're all on different parts 
of this big ball 
known as earth 
and this be my turf
at present, I guess
but I won't stay west 
forever. I endeavour
to travel back round
full circle one day
and on my way
I'll stop off 
and see you all
but right now, 
I just need the tools 
to make it that far 
without falling apart
I need to make it
without falling apart
without falling apart
have heart-
always and forever


cloud and blue 
silent all the way through 
a gold breeze
travels into
the tiny holes,
of the flowery net curtain
and I'm curtain 
this is ease

runs deep

I mean, it's easy for you to say 
that everything will be okay
and truly, honestly, really
 I wish I could believe you 
but what I'm going through-
runs so much deeper than that

to be free

mad contemplation
as I wander through the woods
I'd give up all my goods 
to live under this one
ancient tree
all I want in life is to be free
I just want to be free
I want to be free
I want to be free
I want to be free

Tuesday, 29 January 2013

Windswept Tree

...lately I've been having 
the strangest dreams 
it seems, they're more beautiful 
than I ever imagined reality to be
rural Rotherham, unearthly sunsets
from the past, the colours 
and that one tree
that one lonely windswept tree. 
Some days its hard to breathe. 
Some days I wish I could leave
this time, 
maybe rewind, 
maybe fast forward
a few days, a few months, a few years 
to a time when all my crazy fears
just dissipate...

Wednesday, 23 January 2013

a kid named salvation

he waits on Salvation
platform 6
kings cross station
be patient-
he's probably just 

techni-coloured humility

a thousand hours
for each to wilt
for each to tilt
its head 

dusty dreams

so often is seems
so many of our dreams
are left to gather dust
in a yesterday forgotten

Wake up, it's Fajr time!

Dear sis, I miss 
my fajr wake up calls
from you. You and I,
we grew together,
and now you're gone
 forever, and my phone 
it no longer rings-
see, it was those little things
that made us who we were
back then.

Monday, 21 January 2013

silver snow, evergreen and the night sky.

a cup of sweet tea
under the midnight moon
seemed to cure my soul, 
of its restless moody gloom
sipping whilst treading below
on a sheet of silver-specked snow
an ethereal glow, emanates from
the shimmering floor, 
bird shadow 
against the night sky
and the shrieking cry
of a lonely fox
the white flakes 
cling to evergreens 
eternity seems 
ever present 
Further above, 
a streak of purple
and a pool of stars so bright 
the London sky, 
looks beautiful tonight

Strain of Madness

I can't seem to shake 
this feeling of deja vu
see, I've been through
this before, back then 
I swore, 
I'd take care 
this sense of fear,
exists inside me 
it grows and so does
the sadness, a strain of 
madness has spread
and still
even now
I can't work out
this old riddle 
I'm riddled, someone's
fiddled, with my head.
let it be said- 
I've never felt so low.
maybe its a sign 
maybe it's time 
for me to go 
away again
maybe I should 
come back when 
I figure shit out. 


black eye
busted lip 
time now son 
to get a grip
time now
 to change your ways
time now
 to shave your face
time now
to end our
son it's time to wake up. 
son it's time to
get out of this rut 
it's time son
to live right.
ah don't worry boy 
you'll be alright

Sunday, 20 January 2013

ice cold words fury
he burned
 as he turned
them around 
in his head
 those ice 
cold words
she had read
out loud...

End of the Line

Ma, that night
when you called me-
I tried so hard to sound happy
Could you tell I was faking?
Could you tell I was breaking
from the inside? It's hard to hide
from you ma...

pink snow

a shade of pink
 the sky so low 
the snow- 
it settles, 
in a transient 

Saturday, 19 January 2013


That that I were dust!
That that I could trust 
(wholly and solely)
in You Lord. 

The Body I Carry

I've grown
so weary
of wearing
this wearisome
for it be
too weak
for it be 
too ungodly

...a prayer

so troubled
I'd trade
it all in
to be there
 with You now
help me 
to let go- 
of this 

Once I Met an Alien

She looked at me
 earnestly, and said
 I'm not being funny yeah
 but aliens do exist
 and often I enlist- 
their help...

Friday, 18 January 2013

Don't Cry, Mia.

-aroused from my sleep
by the sound of you weep 
Mia, you live in the
half-way house next door
Mia, I live next door, 
to your half-way house
a portal lies between us-
they say, Mia, that you reside
between fiction and reality
madness and normality-
they say you live
in the thoroughfares  
of this world, the hidden 
corners, the sacred spaces
those elusive places-
shared with ghosts 
and jinns and demons
to ordinary folk
you said life is no joke
you were right 
every night
I'm aroused 
from my sleep
by your weeps, your wails 
they reverberate 
they grate,
so do the other noises-
Mia, in the early hours of the day
I lie awake
and I listen to the voices 
I can hear them, 
muffled and low
not of this world
they haunt you, 
they taunt you
you cry.
These walls are so thin
If I could break them in
I would, Mia.
I'd offer you a warm embrace
we all need the strength to face 
the creatures of the dark.  
The wounds, Mia
you said
the germs had spread
infected bloods
 course through your veins
the body a prison-
a prism, a cell.
I could always tell
something was wrong.
In the morning Mia
I think about you 
I wish I knew 
what makes you wail 
like that,
sunken eyes
forever cast downwards.
I wish a noble saviour
would save us all.
I wish we didn't have to
through these gutters.
Mia, we pass by 
on the street and we greet
 each other 
sometimes we talk, 
I saw you in Smith Brothers
buying jumpers from 
the 1950's
and in the garden, we cross
paths. We offer smiles 
and exchange fruit 
I wish I could get to the 
of our otherworldly woes
this feeling of otherness grows-
I used to bump into 
you at the swimming pool too,
Mia, we'd swim in a pool of tears. 
Mia, every night 
I hear you wrestle your fears
often they win and often I hear you cry. 
Don't cry Mia, don't cry. 

A Girl named B

North London girl
I remember when we
first met-
you talked so rough
you looked so tough
with your 
cornrows, tattoos
and muscles-
I imagine,
you would often get into
what really got me, 
was that diamond
attitude of yours
you know 
I admired your flaws
because they weren't 
really flaws.
See B
you had this kindness
about you, a warmth-
fire too.
You were fierce
I wish I was as fierce
as you.

Thursday, 17 January 2013

-to disappear.

See, I'd like still to disappear
 but I fear
 I'd just wind up back here-
here in my head
here in my heart
 I'm too tired to start- 
and maybe, I lack the will,
maybe I'm still too ill
to make it...

Wednesday, 16 January 2013

...a glint

a glint on the
dry pavement
a sole recollection
a dead reflection-
cosmic star shine, 
under a sterile orange glow
it caught my eye; a silver cross.
galaxy-gloss and mud-encrusted
yet to be entrusted- 
I picked it up. I don't know why 
and I don't know why
a heavy sigh, escaped my lips 
as I traced its dirty cold tips,
the black string, had been ripped
off, two tears, torn apart
I wonder wearer,
what made you lose heart
in infinity, in the divinity
of this moment?


'You're too 
spread out 
to concentrate'
I was late 
to class again
remember when 
you said that 
Mister M-
you were right
I lacked foresight 
back then, 
but you were right 
I was to spread out
to concentrate. 
I still am. 
I still cram 
too much in this 
head of mine.

Hallucinating Bones

You were a skeleton 
wrapped in skin-
an unearthly grin
flit across your unearthly face-
it's hard to erase
that image from my mind
Could it be? Could it really be? 
Was that skeleton
 really me? 

These Empty Epiphanies

I got it so wrong, 
I can't believe it's taken me this long
to realize it.
There's a reason why I 
to make it 
to the black mountains
of Wales
to live 
a natural life-
to be precise
to find freedom in solitude, 
to find union in servitude. 
There's a reason why
every door has 
slammed shut 
in my face
There's a reason why
my fall from grace
has been anything 
but graceful.
See, I've always been hasteful.
Perhaps I've never truly been 
There's a reason why
I didn't get that job 
in Midhurst
my thirst 
to leave the city
grew, this much is true
But I realize now
it's not the city
I needed to escape
it was the grief
the sorrow
the promise of 
of pastures green
of going unseen
of being
simple 'being'
There's a reason why 
I remain in the city
I just don't know what 
that reason is yet.
I wanted to forget
that's the real reason
I wanted to leave this 
place, every trace
of here reminds me 
of you.
Still I wonder 
can this spirit inside grow?
I don't know, 
I just know
I want to see clearly
I just want to be free. 
But it would be easy
to 'be' 
some place
where no one knows me
See here, I'm often
overcome by guilt
the guilt of staying away
the guilt of going for days
without seeing you. 
-of letting you down
-of making you frown
because so often I bail
because so often I fail  
to make it. 
Maybe I can find a way 
to be here, 
Maybe I can pretend to be
else. Right? 
Can I delight
in home yet be afar
from everyone I know.  
For here I am now
in no-mans land
trying to find my feet
and stand
on them firmly 
still I'm restless
still I'm reckless
still I'm feckless
I got it so wrong
I can't believe 
it took me this long
to realize it-

Tuesday, 15 January 2013

Me against the World

As I walked through 
the shadow 
of the valley of death
I watched the condensation
 of your exhaled breath
escape from a 
crack in the window 
of your car
a single star, 
lit up the heavy sky 
I could have walked on by
but I didn't. 
I lurked. I looked
I cursed. I mistook 
you someone else
I mistook you for me-
you know
it was as though 
I was watching my 
younger self
I stood there
I needed to dispel
any association
any notion- 
of kinship
of similarity
when in reality, 
we couldn't be 
one and the same-
It's just me against the world
I heard you rap 
along to Tupac
alone in the dark- 
the stark
reality of life;
it's rife- 
the politics of pain, 
troubles remain
they makes up life.
You looked up then and said- 
ain't no one care, if I be alive or dead
I got nothing to lose. He moves
me- Tupac. 
He knew the truth- the truth be 
I lack half the tools 
I need to be a man
I ain't got no plan 
I don't give a damn
about nothing.
I am nothing.
But everyday still, 
I rise,
still I rise- 
still Demise
watches me from the horizon...

Monday, 14 January 2013

Broken Face

Oh no, what a disaster 
look here girl, this plaster
will keep your eyeball in place
see there, your face-
looks almost normal.
Now let me thread your lips 
together using a needle and
some coloured string
mind you, this might sting
a little. Don't look so scared- 
you've nothing to dread dear
I'll have you looking like a fair
lady in no time. 
I'll fling together bits of wire
that will repair or at very least diguise
the cracks above your eyes
that scar beneath your left lid
bid, it farewell, 
I've got some stuff 
that will hide it, but it might swell 
a bit. And I've got some blu-tac 
to stick back your darling nose
it's split in half again, 
darn these facial woes!

Beneath the Midnight Moon

I found her
lying alone 
beneath the
midnight moon.
A fistful of weeds
A fistful of thorns
adorned her clenched
grasp, hold fast.
 Her wrists 
were covered-
She's slipping 
Blood's dripping 
She bleeds
red coats the weeds 
and thorns-
then a voice whispered
in the silent storm,  
the wind breathed
into the air
into her ear-
you reap what you sow
thorns and weeds
the reasons 
you feel so low
you know child
you deserve 
the woe
upon you
a fistful of weeds
a firstul of thorns
she silently mournes
she drifts into a fitful sleep
she wakes 
and breaks 
and breaks into
a wistful weep 
her cries echo in the wind
and bring a sadness,
sadness looms among
the evergreens...

She left

She left 
the same way she entered
through the back door
calmly and quietly, 
she didn't want to draw 
attention to herself.

Gosh, what a sorry story
my life has become- 
here I am again, 
on the run!

There was an art 
to the way she would start
to live life over.

The trick, is to stick
to the plan.
One must never look back.

Her ability leave so freely, 
required a will so steely
in nature.

In the end I managed to make 
my not so great escape.

go easy on her, it's not all her fault
try to take her with a pinch of salt
try to understand she just couldn't take
it anymore.

Listen, I just didn't
what it was all for!

People like her, 
find it impossible to endure-
that kind of propriety, 'stuff society' 
she thought and so she did, 
So she just walked away.
Come what may
its time for me to go my way- 
wherever it may lead...

Two Wayfarers

I hope we don't fail
to wander together
along the Swale
on a winters day
we'll watch the birds
as we follow the 
old Saxon Shore way
we'll cut through the 
apple orchards
the sky may be moody and grey
but our spirits will
not fray.
We'll share jokes 
and biscuits 
as we go 
You know,
we were always 
going to be friends. 
This ancient path along 
this ancient shore
was meant for 
two wayfaring tramps 
like us.
So let us wander together
whatever the weather,
and who knows
maybe the storm will fade
and the sun will make 
a brief appearance
And as we walk 
you'll ask me a string 
of questions 
like you always do 
and we'll talk about all the 
things that interest me and you 
like old films and birds 
and art and strange words.
But let us 
take the time to 
when we reach the sea wall 
and enjoy those views across 
the saltings and the creek-
Conyer creek; 
we always do seek 
lonely places
empty, wild and free.
I wonder, 
will we make it to Ship Inn
before my ship 
comes in?

Park up!

the way you park up dear
I swear, if I filmed it
and put it on youtube 
you'd get over a 
hundred million views-
stop. start. bash. crash. 
driving for years
in this same theatrical fash!
I love you man, 
no one can make me laugh 
the way you can.

Wednesday, 9 January 2013

Potato Boy

Whenever I peel potatoes
I think of you Polly
you were such a wally!
like me- you see
that why we got on so well!
Ah hell, Polly- 
where have you gone!
You know,
I was thinking today
you must have cut 
ten thousand 
from ten hundred 
(at least)
you were such 
a potato
potato boy
I miss you

Mister Cool

...yo mister cool
sitting on the tube 
afro under your straw hat
oyster card taped to the back
of your iPhone...

Same Shit/ Different Year

Same shit 
different year
I swear-
I can no longer bear
this affliction
sweet benediction 
release me
Lord, decrease me 
in my suffering
for I am suffering.
This pain,
I no longer gain
from it, 
Lord, I feel 
myself wane
and I feign
Lord, I feign  
but this normality-
its carving holes 
in my sanity. 
be grateful.
Lord, this pain
It will not leave me 
Lord, it aggrieves me 
that I cannot live 
like an ordinary person
I feel my condition worsen
and I can pretend that I'm okay
but pretending 
won't make the pain
go away.
Lord, I pray to be healed
So I can wander in a field 
of Your remembrance....
Same shit
 different year
I swear, 
I just don't care
any more...
Ah, don't worry-
this despair
it won't last 
I'll hold fast 
I'll be patient
like I've always been 
I seem to be
getting better at it. 
I guess
this here-
it's simple
of a condition
I have
it's called 
'being human.' 
I still haven't gotten 
used to it.

Saturday, 5 January 2013

In Medina

Late one summer's afternoon
I fell asleep in Medina
in the mosque of the beloved
and as I slept, I dreamt 
I dreamt a terrible dream
that shook me to the core
It was so dark, it bore
a crater within.
I woke up in a cold sweat 
I didn't know where I was 
the prayer space was empty 
and I felt empty inside. 
I couldn't understand
the reason why  
I had been abandoned
and left there. Then a beam 
of gold light 
streamed in
I screamed in 
silence, to this day
I haven't shaken away 
that strange feeling
of abandonment.

Killing Time

...lately I've been killing time
rehearsing lines
I'll never say to you...

Unpublished Poems

A string of unpublished
poems, reside in my drafts- 
cast off, lonely and unread,
I'm fed
up of writing. 
A cold draft 
enters through my window
and into my soul
it occupies that hole
inside of me, 
where you used to be. 
Just know, that I miss you.
And know,
 that my heart aches for the day
you say the words
you never dared to say
 back then, back when
 we were together. 


Do you know
what it means
to possess yakeen?
It's more than belief
to be brief
it's certainty
in the unseen
it's that surety
that knowledge
that life is but a dream
An apparition of sorts
Yakeen is a gift
from the One
it has the power to lift
one to a higher plane
at the same time
you remain
it's like grace
but different
Yakeen is knowing
and its showing that you do
(know that is)
by the way you live
by staying true.
There is no doubt
in yakeen-
there was a time
I was graced with the gift
of yakeen


...see, I couldn't walk
I barely had the strength to talk;
my pulse raced and I faced
that same desperate uncertainty.
Life is a series of events
strung together
by a thing called time
I dread the coming of
another paradigm, 
a new design
and what it may bring
I cling, I cling, I cling-

Friday, 4 January 2013

Mad Clarity

So I was planning on writing this book
last year, about a Christian monk of Olde
with a heart of Gold, from Anatolia. 
His name was Mad Clarity
and this man; brilliant, old and wise, 
possessed a certain kind of duality

Mad Clarity was quite the hermit.
For life did not permit
him to be anything else.
One day he found a time machine, 
and being a curious human being, 
he flipped the switch. Was it a glitch?
Mad transported himself from the past-
he travelled fast, through a future so vast. 

Was it a glitch?
The means by which, 
he arrived there? 
Or had he been sent to complete a task?
To ask the questions, modern man 
never asks?

He ended up in a new land
He ended up in Hackney
in the year two thousand and thirteen.
Initially, he thought
he was having a strange dream.

Then, he would grapple, and try
to understand the meaning of life
in the process, he would drive
others insane, with his seemingly
inane ways.

He lived on the streets
for weeks on end.
He would talk to mosquitoes, 
to birds and clouds and trees 
Whenever he could, he would
talk to the people in the TV, 
and in photos and on posters,
he never got used to modern things
like cars and coasters.

He tried to figure out the things he once
knew, like who he was, and what was true.

Anyway I don't know 
what happened to Mr Clarity. 
I'd like to get back to him soon. 
I just can't seem to find the inspiration 
to write about that kind of 'loon'...-
an olde monk living in a modern funk
I just hope he finds his way home
some day soon...

Rapunzel of Baghbanpura

The Rapunzel of Baghbanpura
caused such a great hoo-ha
when she escaped from her tower
and made for the city!

She hitched a ride in a rickshaw
She did not abide by their law.
For sure, she'll end up dead!
-the people of her village said. 

But she didn't, instead-
 she made friends
everywhere she went. 
She played cricket 
with the kids from the slums
and shared deep conversations 
with them raggedy bums. 

She soared like a black kite, 
always in flight, always gliding
never hiding, from life. 

The Rapunzel of Baghbanpura
was a warrior, of sorts.
She wandered through side-walks 
-along Grand Trunk road; 
she would help a strained donkey
carry his heavy load.

On her off days, Rapunzel
shared words with the poets
and visited many a grave 
No one can save
that girl, the people of the village 
would say- 
this is what happens, 
when you depart from the old ways.

Rapunzel didn't hear. 
If she did, she wouldn't care
what they said. For she had fled
and now roamed. She now owned 
the city. She pitched up a tent
wherever she went 
using her chador and some sticks
never gave a toss about the politics
 of being a woman.

And to this day
the Rapunzel of Baghbanpura
has found a way 
to live and live happily
in the city 
of Lahore!

Wednesday, 2 January 2013

A Thousand Pieces

Misdirected? Disaffected?
Is it everything
you ever expected?
Man, I don't know much
I just clutch
onto the things I once
thought I knew
And all I know is this-
I feel
so disconnected
from the real,
from my own story
no matter what
I can't put the pieces
back together,
like a broken jigsaw puzzle
with one thousand pieces,
too many pieces of me
are missing. I keep wishing
they'll turn up some place
under a stack of unsent letters
encased, unfettered
or in a box of photos
tucked between two books
I need to get out of my head
I need to look
I need to look back
and start again from there
from where I began
this time last year
and give it all up again
everything that
enslaves and opresses
my soul
like these expressions
that I sold
on to you- reader;
I still don't know

A Mirage

Truth is
they won't care,
if you disappear-
give 'em a few weeks,
they'll forget you
were ever there.

Better than I am

Instil within me 
a desire to be 
better than I am