Friday, 31 May 2013


a million things 
to be grateful for 
but are we ever really
are we ever really
really really
-grateful? or do we just 
dwell in our disasters?
like elastoplast plasters 
it covers wounds
protects and heals
it seals and conceals
but are we ever really really 
grateful, sincerely, 
-sheer gratitude-
(is the answer)

mics and saleros

hipsters on bikes 
mash-up mics
and them dreadlocks 
and them neon socks 
and them whisteblowers
blowing blowing blowing
and there we go 
eating our salero's 
on the grass 
on a summers evening
-the gang reunited-
this is how it goes
kind of like de ja vu though
earlier on 
pink ice-cream 
outside the museum 
-kind of an obscure dream-
but beautiful, nonetheless
I guess
...this is how it goes...

Thursday, 30 May 2013

this human nature

always reaching out/ always backing away

least I got riggy

have you always been this way
so cold/ so cut off?
yes i have 
i don't mind any more
I don't look for 
not yours, or anyone else's
see now, 
I'm okay with me 
however crazy/ however unwell
I may be
-at least I got riggy-
yeah, least I got riggy

excuse me gentlemen

excuse me gentlemen 
she said to the
trio of fat uncles
 blocking the way
excuse me gentlemen
-yo, move yourselves!!!-
they be congregatin' every day,
in da same place
you get more than just veg
(elbows and shoves) 

murky sky/ murky soul

Here I am again, 
going round the bend
your bend 
and the other one too
Here I am again, 
still feeling as though 
life is wholly untrue
like she asked me to contact him 
to ask to be trained, 
we talked about charity 
our plans were the same
mine and his 
all that time ago, 
life is so (and so and so)
maybe's it's a game 
I feel like I'm going insane 
again and I can only blame
myself. too many abrupt changes
too many absent exchanges
and I can't account for them
the ones that took place
sometimes I just try to think 
I try to make sense of it all
but I can't, 
and I go off on a silent rant
ranting, ranting, ranting
I relayed to her all my reasons
present reasons, not past
all real, except I left one out
the one that outlasts (the entirety)
the only one that matters
the only one that's scattered
me, into a million little pieces
-I have died, a hundred times-
though I realise 
until it goes away 
my life will periodically go astray
-spiritual malaise?-
who knows, who knows, who knows 
who understands,
just You. 
-dreaming still: to be without-

gettin' high outside springfield

one evening
two guys 
chillin' outside 
the mental hospital 
gettin' high 
passing the time
listening to drake
-on loud speaker-
I heard about these folk
swear down, no joke
-drake on loud speakers
they be them 
new- age seekers
yeh boi, riggy said!

to cut off again and again and again

she keeps 
cutting herself off
because she feels so alone
around others; 
she never knows
-how to be-
but now 
that her phone
never rings
-it's lonelier-

elderflower cordial

old lady 
with an air of elegance
and forgotten class
i often see you around
your lips bright red 
your straw hats fraying 
i often see you 
picking off and laying down
into a basket
he asked you once
why you do that 
and you replied
they're for my 
elderflower cordial


there was a time 
i liked the rain 
so much more 
than I like the sun 
they've both become

Tuesday, 28 May 2013

souf london life

so yeah she was painting the mural
while they were shooting hoops
they were skating on ramps
while they were gathering the troops
they were snapping photos
of the markings behind police tape
their mouths, they were proper agape
it's like they couldn't quite take
it, (what had happened)

Monday, 27 May 2013

father: you and your wildflowers

father I had a dream 
that you planted wildflower seeds
all around the edge of that ancient bog 
we travelled to that day 

father in my dream
those seeds you sowed grew
and the flowers bloomed straight away
a beautiful sight to behold

and father, later after I woke up 
I went downstairs to find
in a vase on the dining room table
a handful of 
mismatched wildflowers

sleep paralysis

sleep paralysis
twice in one night 
how many times 
will I experience 
sleep paralysis 
in my troubled life?

angels, scientists 
can you explain
how I can tame 
this demon 
that sits on my ribs

maybe you can 
up the shadow
so he can remain
in his place
for I find it hard
to face

sleep paralysis 
unable to move
unable to remove 
the demon on my ribs
-in the quiet darkness-
-a silent (paralysed) scream-
this isn't the dream/ this is the real

I don't live on your earth,
not any more, not like before 
not even a bit 
where I live 
doesn't fit 
with all that you 
to be real

-sleep paralysis-
that's some deep shit
right there
but me
honestly I no longer fear
(finally Gaia)

Saturday, 25 May 2013

Brother save us, we are burning!

'brother, save us, save us 
we are burning!' 
the children screamed 
from inside a school bus on fire
despite the smoke and flames
the children didn't tire 
of screaming, 
till their very last breaths
till their very last tiny breaths-
'brother, save us, save us
we are burning!' 
and he tried 
he did, the young man 
a distressed youth 
but it was no use, 
he broke the glass
he tried to save them 
but by then
too much time had passed
the fire had spread
and the fire had led
the children to burn to death
 'brother save us, save us 
we are burning' 
he's still turning 
around their desperate plea's
at night its hard to sleep 
-16 children died today
in Pakistan, in a school bus fire-
let's talk about that
let's talk about how precious 
their tiny lives were
let's talk about the absent bus driver
who left the burning children
shouting 'brother save us,
save us, we are burning...'

amazing people and that one boss.

to just be
so overwhelmed
by life, by living
to just find
them everywhere
those people who remind
you of everything
you gave up on
dreams/ projects/ ideas
-yourself/ themselves-
to see them then
in newspapers
old friends
 old teachers
old preachers
to see their names in print
to see them on TV
it brings
about the strangest feeling
to see where you are
to see how far
you've come kind sir
while we're so far
in terms of knowing
-yes, in terms of knowing-
to know that despite it all
despite my fall
-from grace-
despite the fact that I erased
myself from your reality
(and vice versa)
to know that even now
that even after all this time
all those chances you gave me
-those chances passed me by-
to know
I can send you a text message
and you'll reply
at the end of the day I know why
and you don't know how much
that means 
Swear down, I'ma try harder 
I'ma to fix up 
and to all of you 
who still have my back 
I swear I'll pay you back 
with sheer kindness
one day in the not so distant future

to flow like the shabelle river

brothers, sisters
stay strong, 
don't be made to feel wrong
don't be made to feel you don't belong
here. for this world it's all of ours and
you can't let the fear
tell you any different
brothers and sisters
we must remain
-steadfast-/ please refrain 
from changing, who you are
trust me, it will get better
so don't even sweat it
just let it
just let life take it's course
and like the shabelle river
we must continue to flow
we must continue to deliver
we must continue to go
about living our lives
the way we know how
the way we were taught
by our prophets, by our teachers
by our Lord
-with dignity and patience and strength-

slate grey sky

storm over head 
the edge of a slate grey sky
-where its white-
they'll remain dry 
but below the grey 
he runs, he runs away
from them drops of rain
hard rain
and the noise it makes 
when it hits the concrete
-a thousand tiny smacks-
the smell of
-washed new-
he continues 
running through
the dark-skinned runner
with his crisp slate grey suit 
matching the slate grey sky 
in his ears, those white 
head phones
to cut him off from the present
to drown out the sound
-of water against concrete-
yet there's no where to hide
from fat drops of rain
take the head phones out 
man and you'll gain
much more
from this moment
-concrete and rain-

Thursday, 23 May 2013

smile forever, through whatever

to just be happy 
for no reason
in particular; 

even when there aren't any 


Wednesday, 22 May 2013

them psycho moslems

you know that right?
that they already planned
to brand 
us all psychotic 
no way now to block it 
the damage to come
-trouble well stirred- 
like they've done 
throughout time 
to watch reruns of history
to live in it
man, aren't you guys tired
of this same old shit
don't know why, we ever expect
things to change
there's no peace in this world
and the fault is all of ours
now lets count down the hours
before the rioters riot
before the haters hate
before the attackers attack
and I got an idea
 why don't you
take the blame
for you claim
to know everything
-reporting/ framing-
the bias
in such a short time
you undo all we work for
-the real truth seekers/
the real freedom fighters-
but you'll never incite us
to do the same
we ain't playin' your game
we ain't playin

empty fair ground

so I wandered around 
the empty fairground
waiting to be found
perhaps behind the reeds
perhaps under a pine
by the skinny robins;
the sun comes out to find
everything, it's okay
that one spindly blossom tree
watches on, by the edge of the lake
that green green green
that too white swan
reminds me of a dream
that everlasting fossil
i forgot how beautiful 
the common is
in the summer
the sun, I swear
it only comers out for me
only after i leave
to leave, to breathe
in nature
the soul exhales
the heart hurts 
but it would would hurt worse
if i was still there
-to seek real life-
-to be fearless-

office types

-neurotic office types-
you know the kind
maybe its the lack of oxygen
thats rendered them so unkind
me, yeah i try not to mind
i try to find
excuses for them
when none exist
man i gotta resist
the urge to run
maybe the time has come
for me to leave again
but she said to me
i can't keep running away
this time I have to stay
at least till the summer
will I do a runner 
before then? I don't know,
I just know that my heart 
it hurts. It really hurts

Lying under my Sky

lying on the grass in my common
wishing it wasn't so common
for me to be un-feeling this way
ahh but to lie on green grass
 in the open, on this day
where there are no people 
to look up at the boundless sky 
to understand wholly in that moment 
to feel peace in a world where there is none 
in my green common
chased away: them post-work blues 
by a hundred hues
of beautiful-

Tuesday, 21 May 2013


somehow I've got a feeling
you're still reading
my scribbles
from across the atlantic
so, frantic... I wrote you
this message
(not a poem)
SJ I have to say
I just have to say
thank you for being there for him
when the rest of us can't be
you're a good person,
better than me
(no comparison)
SJ, I'm sorry.

you gotta stop

yo, stop self-prescribing
what you're describing
-its complete madness-

cacoon days

-you know those days-
cocooned in your room
door shut, curtains drawn
lying in bed
staring at the ceiling
(of the world outside) 
-failing to care-
(whether or not it's still standing)
yeah, one of those days.

urban wander #42

singers, painters
clowns and time-wasters
river breeze
walking through them
same old streets
of london
day in and day out
i keep hanging about
i keep losing myself
in the same crowd
lacking: nothing
but a ghost
a wandering girl phantom
life it's so random
just last week, Waterloo
I felt like I was thorugh
now here I am
sort of renewed
bit by bit by bit
I flit, I sit, I writ...
...another poem
in the hazy evening sunshine
amongst indescisive seasons
just like my reasons
thin, changeable, transient
lord are you with me now?
every time i cross the bridge
the sun comes out
so swift, as if to say hello
and then a slow
redemption song begins
to sound
wandering phantom girl 
wait for no one

to talk and talk and talk

like if only
i had someone to talk to 
you know like really talk to
about magical stuff
about the stuff that's magical 
and glorious and mind-blowing 
and inspiring and mad
and also the things that are
a really quite sad
like I don't know, 
certain stars and certain signs 
ah if only there was someone 
with whom I could share all my rhymes
even the really strange ones, 
like if only 
there was someone I could
talk to forever, without ever
feeling weary, just interested
ah to connect, to just get someone 
to just talk and talk and talk 
like that one time,
-under the pine-
with that dusty foot philosopher
-he wasn't of this world: truly-

crazy/ beautiful/ muslim

crazy/ beautiful/ muslim 
I've known so many 
crazy/ beautiful/ muslim 
their allure
lies in their pure 
desire to achieve 
spiritual greatness
while the world
continues to berate us 
for trying to be in two places
at once
-heaven and earth-
and with the passing of months
we never stop trying 
outsiders/ they never stop prying
they never stop picking holes
at our seeking scattered souls
crazy beautiful muslim 
i have so much love 
in my heart for them 
crazy/ beautiful/ muslim 
girls, the world
 it lies at your feet
just keep to the plan, our purpose
it's to meet
the One, the Face of Love
the Everlasting- 
for this passing
-is nothing but illusory-
crazy beautiful muslim
you mean so much to me

disconnect/ dissect

to disconnect/ to not dissect 
something beautiful 
using light and ink
and you've already missed it.
you've missed
-something beautiful -
like the patterns on the backs 
of the dinosaurs
like the coloured graffiti 
on the canteen walls. 
He looked like Barney, 
all green and purple
digging into his fish sandwich 
sipping on his toxic juice,
what's the use 
of dissecting 
something beautiful
when you never saw it
in the first place
that young lad, hood up
eating a bright blue ice-cream 
now it seems 
so strange, I agree
and those four dangling legs 
by the stone Sphinx
and there: lying on a bench
to lie anywhere,
on any patch of grass
and to stare 
up at the sky 
(this/ is/ life) 
to stare up at those leaves,
chinese leaves
by the transmitting station
-to endure with patience-
to be
to just be
 to just see, to just breathe
to just listen to her
the girl who brings me joy
to disconnect 
to not dissect 
the row of men, the private tracks 
the present moment
stacks and stacks and stacks 
(of present moments)
the remote control cars
how fast they went
how hard they were concentrating
tearing through
  better sometimes
to disconnect 
to not dissect
something beautiful
(I've done it again, haven't I?)


so blessed 
to have a best
who would travel
into the heart of a maze 
with me, no questions asked
the maze
-it was so real-
hearts were sealed
cracks were healed
-we found it-

i saw you

i saw you. 
i saw you. i saw you 
you didn't see me but i saw you 
i saw you. i saw you. i saw you
I deplore that you 
didn't see me too
what happened
to our shared telepathy?


in the eve
microwaving lebanese 
take away 
for the famous meccan 
somali shaykh
I wanta go heaven 
I prayed behind you shaykh 
please pray for me too 
I heated up your food 
a tiny kindness
Lord for it, 
take away my blindness
I wanta see again
only You can help me

busker and I

knock knock knocking 
on heavens door 
more than reminiscent of the poem 
i wrote to you lord
and every song to follow 
spoke to the depths of my soul 
something deep inside
something ethereal 
am i, still knocking?
or is there something blocking 
that door? Lord, 
if for one moment in time
I could feel the way I felt 
on that bus, all those years ago
It would be so much easier
to throw it all away
Lord when he finished 
after so much time passed
I went up to him and handed him a fiver 
and I told him he played a great set
(other people, they just left)
he looked into my eyes and I knew that
he knew what I meant when I said 
that he played a great set. 
 With a smile and a thank you, 
I said see you around 
and turned away 
-a bit too fast-
(always hasty)

quit da emails

beg you 
quit emailing me 
i already know 
i'm missing out 
no need to flout
it, your orchids 
your butterflies 
your sunny days 
under the sky
I can't come out
not now, not ever
I just gotta go 
life takes me, 
and right now
its taking me 

Saturday, 18 May 2013


the most beautiful thing I saw today
a blackbird with the orangest of beaks
having a splashing good time
in a plastic container of water
how refreshing, sparrow looked on in awe
as blackbird dipped his head in the water
laid before him, once, twice, thrice
he flapped his wings so boldly
dispersing millions of droplets
all around bird song grew louder
as if to say
blackbird you handsome beaut!
continue cleaning your feathers
you're so darn cute!
so dutiful, so beautiful
blackbird you are, da one!  

I'll keep knockin'

there's nothing left for me to do
but to give myself wholly to You
I know, I know, I know
I've said this so many times before
but this time I mean it.
Lord, I'm yours!
close all other doors,
but the door to You
I'm knocking
I've been knocking
I'll keep knocking
till my fist falls apart
till my fingers start
to bleed repentance
till solace departs (from me)
I'll keep knocking
I won't keep locking
myself out (not now)
-please let me in, I'm destitute-
(Lord I got nowhere else to go)
please let me in

Thursday, 16 May 2013

stranger than fiction (always!)

it's far stranger than fiction
the law of attraction,
unspoken affliction
the way things happened
domino effect:
-it almost wrecked-
when it never made sense
and honestly I can't believe it
that we were thinking of each other
in paralells SJ, I didn't want to delay
my message to you
and when I received your message too
before I exposed mine,
I swear I heard the universe sigh
-a near missed connection-
-words spoken out loud-
(well kind of)

to be a fat caterpillar

how many times
does the caterpillar have to break
before it can finally make
that change
-flutter away butterfly-
one day soon, I
would like to morph
into another creature
-tired of being human-

words exhasuted

words exhausted
the words resorted
-to silence-  


the number of followers
for right now, I'm calling
for no one
(for nothing)
still seeking
Soon I'll publish
all these poems
and add them
to my ever-growing pile
of unread books
for I (never) fail to (not) learn
when I read back
with fresh eyes
-pretty worthless if you ask me-


to scribble down
nineteen poems
in two days
no more poems
not today

leave me alone dippy blad!

Of all the places I tarried 
it was in the dino shop that I carried
around with me the most sadness
inherent madness (it surfaced)
and troubles weighed me down
memories they'd often make me frown
and I don't know why 
of all the places that I've tarried
it was in the dino shop that I carried
everything. I don't know why  even now
I can't get the dino shop out of my head
nor dippy, nor whale
nor mammoth, nor dead birds
-more than empty words-
-more than just another confession-
rather an expression
of longing. 
like I left my heart in Lahore 
maybe I left behind
another vital part of me in the dino shop
...don't know why I can't stop
thinking about it. I flit. 
It's what I do, what was it about the dino shop
that grew 
on me? Was I ever truly happy 
in life? yes, no 
-I don't know-
I just know I never learn
I just know that I forever yearn 
to be back there
all the places that I've left behind 
-a succession of incomplete departures-
-a procession of unsaid goodbyes-

broken people

broken people
so many
broken people
eyes patched up
limp hands
missing legs
brains gone
Broken people
we encounter many
broken people
but I wonder
does their brokenness
make them any less
or on the contrary
does it make them
more so?

kind of whimsical?

rain clouds
smudgy sky
should I try
to make sense of it
it was harder
than its been forever
the devil pressed
my heart with his
cold finger tips
-inexplicable heaviness-
physical, whimsical
was it real, what is real
gee whiz,
I'd really like to know
would you like to show
me the real?

do not brand, rather try to understand

there are things in life
that even now I strive
to understand
like why people brand
others, their own brothers
lunatics, losers, heretics
yeah it's pretty pathetic really,
wish I forgave you now
-wish I said something-
something simple, like hi, or goodbye
-and all those things in between-
doesn't matter now, doesn't really mean
a(ny) thing
(none of these poems do)

them skeletons

skeletons in your closet
close the door, lock it
-and throw away the key-

Sky I mean Sy

Sky, I mean Sy, I mean Sky
I exist outside of me
its the reason I can vent so freely
its the reason why I pour out so easily
these feelings, they aren't mine
In time, I hope to step back into my body
I hope to reclaim my name
my real name, it's not Sy
(sigh) Sky, that's not my name, Sy
that name's not mine.  

interlude (not)

to walk, to walk, to walk
to walk, to walk, to the river
give her, give her, give her
the gift of freedom
of certainty, of servitude
-no interlude-
just now

go ahead, vanish (see if i care)

why do I feel so blue
why do I feel like i'm through
with this life
these days I reside
in that same feeling
that one I would get
when treading rooftops at night
-so high-
known to all
as the crazy midnight walker
I'd watch the shadows as I paced
I'd yet to face (reality)
darkness, shrouded in darkness
of every kind, darkness it sort of reminds
me of everything
of every dark thing
and there with that busker
listening to him sing
that dark dark song
I realised I no longer belong to this city
nothing belongs to me
-ready to leave-
-ready to vanish once more-

no mind games

no mind games
for this mind remains
but still I never been one
to hold a grudge
I never been one to drudge
up others ills
-mistakes and misgivings-
so do the same by me
no mind games please
for this mind remains

To Walk with God

walk it off
I been tryin' I swear
walk it off
I been walkin' for years
if you require proof
just look to the soles of my shoes
look to the soles of my feet
they're all worn down
yeah and I'ma beat
from all ma walkin'
from walkin' it off
now I just wanta walk
I just wanta walk with God
I don't wanta plod
on earthly ground no more
no, I don't wanta walk,
man I wanta soar
I wanta soar with
them angels
so pure
-yeah, I wanta soar-
-don't wanta walk no more-

the writer

maybe what I really want
what I really need
is to quit my day job
and to become a writer so
maybe I should go
and do just that
but wait, maybe it's too late
maybe I'm not good enough
maybe these words
really are all
meaningless and empty

Sunday, 12 May 2013

old wise artist

to the old wise artist
you passed down 
to me a skill 
a gift
the gift of art 
of experimenting 
of perfecting the craft
without criticism 
without scepticism 
all the while
preaching nothing but
yeah, Bill 
you took me under your wing
you taught me things
you taught me how to see
the world a bit differently
and for this 
I thank you

imagination/ possibilities

seeing things 
and then 
making up stories in
my head, 
for i never said
these stories were all true
to be true
life is more interesting
through and through 
when you make stuff up
the imagination
offers a kind of 
from the mundane
from the every day
but not really seeing 
that could be 
it's all about the


a box of empty celebrations 
by the shore 
no wrappers left-over
i wonder what
the celebrations were for
perhaps he adored
you that much
too much
and as such
he couldn't see
he was too busy
the both of you 
being together, under that blue
twilight sky 
-short of forever-
chocolates by the river, 
time slowly began to wither
-it was your last night-
for straight after, you left to go
to a nameless place, 
he still doesn't know
(where you are)
celebrations by the river
he couldn't give her
any more than that

Saturday, 11 May 2013

lunar shine, safety pins

safety pins
together they clung
together they hung
from a weathered 
piece of string
that stretched from 
the tree
 (a lowly branch)
to the high moon 
glinting silver 
a thin line of metal strewn 
upward to the heavens 
safety pins,
flimsy and closed
made up a labyrinth 
of lunar shine
on secret nights, the trail blinds
human eyes

dear madam

dear madam
I just want to say 
thank you for today
dear madam, 
I just want to say
that I understand the way 
you are, because I am 
exactly the same
we're both equally insane
so lets take the blame 
for each other 
lets continue to discover life
 through one another

don't let it linger

to bear witness to that
middle finger 
you let it linger
in the air 
your middle finger
girl, try not to care
about him 
and his displaced hate
-eyes ablaze-
with words unspoken
with un-understanding
girl, upon his crash landing
he landed on earth 
not an earth 
you understand: 
to bear witness to
that middle finger
don't let it linger
lay down your weapons
and look instead to the sky 
to the changing clouds: clouds don't lie
your un-understanding 
your crash landing
up in flames
don't ask how
just let go 
boy, stop trying to blow 
things up 
things you don't understand 
just carry on living 
life the best way 
you can

the kite is alive

kite in the sky 
kite is alive
kite glides; as a sigh
escapes man's lips 
as man watches kite dance
as man watches kite prance
around with the travelling clouds
gleeful, a bit free 
yet kite wanted to be
kite wanted to cut off 
kite wanted to get higher
to touch the highest span
to not be earth bound
kite formulated a plan
kite conspired with wind
and with winds help kite broke free 
and tugged himself away 
from the grasp of a man
man watched in a trance
as kite escaped, his glance
did not waver and kite did not slow 
a gust of wind did blow 
kite higher and higher
kite soared 
and from above
kite watched the world
catch fire
and burn and burn and burn 
kite mingled with the ashes
kite yearned for lightning flashes 
and red hide,
they appeared and then kite did fly 
away as the end of the world approached
and encroached,
upon the sleepy life of man.

space invaders and a man in waders

< the rest of the world
he tarried at neither 
he just kept walking onwards 
pass the space invaders
pass a man in waders
the disarming missiles
lizards too 
and coloured rubbish strewn 
all over 
along with burnt flags
flowers and shells 
the ones you'd find by the sea
the scrap by the houseboats
to up sticks, to float 
away on any given day
across the english channel 
to be able to channel it 
everything into moving 
across the ocean
and that being it
the entirety
no beginning, no end 
just the middle 
just the sea
the church bells rung before he 
could finish formulating 
a thought, from across the river
the mudflats/ the birds flew
the gnats bred, after they led
that one day life
another string of words
try to understand
< the rest of the world

what she said...

I remember
when I spoke to her 
she said
she was no longer feeling inspired
she said
she was feeling deeply tired
and bored
she told me she was saving up
she was waiting 
till she could afford 
a sail boat 
so she could sail away 
till then, till that day
she said 
I've got to stay afloat
she said don't gloat 
just keep walking
Sy, just keep walking

white petal

a way to recovery 
cover thee
wrap her up 
in a giant white petal 
push her down a hill 
for she'll never settle 
she'll keep tumbling down till
the wind stops
and the earth stands still 
and the petal unravels
inside you'll find 
a corpse that's travelled 
down every hill 
for it takes no skill 
to move with the wind
it just takes belief


creeping through veins 
pressing against this skull
making increasingly hard
for her to mull
it over, for over and over
it over(comes) it overtakes 
it makes 
living near impossible, 
ripped hands
torn all the way through 
feet on fire, teeth clenching wire
electrocuted jaw
this soul, it isn't for 
who let you in? 
who opened the door? 
no, it's not okay
for you to be there
from the corner of this minds eye
I can feel you stare
and I swear 
you got me 
running on empty 
you're running 
me into the ground
for now, through some kindness
I've found 
a way to share this soul 
though your tearing it apart
you're tearing holes
in every inch 
(to be without)
I've forgotten how to be

Friday, 10 May 2013

a dream that won't go away

-it's happening- 
nine to five's starting to take over.....
.......this one precious life....... 
still I strive
to do my best 
still I invest 
 my everything
into making it work
into making (everything) work 
for if it does 
if I make it through 
in a couple of years
my dreams might actually come true
I might find myself back there
back where
life made no sense
I'll remember then 
what all this hard work was for
for now, for them, for this
for that, for the future
for fewer
long shots 
for greener
-for beautiful souls-
for those children who stole
and possess
my heart

Tuesday, 7 May 2013

underground soul

underground soul
d'you get what I'm saying
underground soul 
d'you get what I'm conveying
let me break it down for you 
-the camaraderie-
of the dusty tube
in the early hours of the morning
they gather together in a group
to share ghost stories
on kennington loop
(un)loopy they move in troops
one after another, he trails behind
he walks the tracks, he tries to find
the morning
in the morning
he repeats over the tannoy 
mind the gap, mind the gap,
mind the GAP(S)
gaps in the mind
gaps you'll find
gaps making
(code language) 
speaking in tongues
here it comes!!! 
here they come: the ghosts of the past 
ever last, they'll never last 
forever: they're braver together
underground soul
growing old 
(we all are)
d'you get me? forget me
don't let me
walk the tracks at night

daughters of hawa

Small world 
you said 
just yesterday 
it will be yesterday
when all remaining hours 
fall away 
(you) another person
I met on my way
by chance (it's doesn't exist)
(you) another person
-who took that risk-
who met my guides
they guided you too
(or maybe you/
guided them)
J.K and H.K
(heaven sent them)
overlapping narratives
scattered/ in disarray
dissected laughter
the forces at play
again, maybe it's just the circles 
I travel in: they all intersect
they still all reflect each other
for at the end of eternity 
we all share one mother
sisters; we are.
sisters; it's all we are.

Sunday, 5 May 2013

no more poems please

no more poems please
please leave them out
leave out those words 
those squiggly letters 
return instead to the state
of the unlettered
for it's far better,
 to be- 
unfettered and free;
like the human beings
of olde, 
for they would roam 
this earth; from birth, 
all the way through to death 
from the very first to the very last breathe
they would breathe, 
yes breathe, not write
they would not scribe 
and cement their troubles and thoughts
they never saught
meaning in tiny etched shapes
for I think perhaps, they had 
no words, 
no words to write out sorrows
no verbs to carve out
a string of tomorrows
-the future-
for them I think perhaps, 
was less than vague (un-fake)
to be un-plagued, 
by the quiet sadness 
that would follow
ghost words
ghost sadness, 
sad gladness
most fractious
re-living, re-writing
re-lighting old fires
adding fuel
to burning tyres, 
fuel for thought:
lead in a pencil
spraying paint
onto that same old stencil 
words upon words upon words
graffiti walls surround all

Saturday, 4 May 2013

wrapped in foil

buried deep in African soil
wrapped tightly in a sheet 
of iridescent foil 
my heart (rests)

Friday, 3 May 2013

not so lucid?

the lucidity
the exclusivity
of these identities 
we put on
of these identities 
we put up with
be (without being)
see (without seeing)
-for the real,
is wholly revealing-
(everything you are)

earth lag

earth lag
kind of like jet lag
but worse, for the earth 
spins faster 
than the jet flits, 
to take off, to propel, to lift
the time it takes for swift
light to break through 
the clouds 
the crowds forever in motion 
-be still-
an illusion
an intrusion: of otherness
for to move
is to be be moving with 
the earth 
earth lag
kind of like jet lag
cannot remain stag(nant)

missed connections

missed connections. missed connections 
missed connections

i cannot say enough about them
i cannot give them enough words

....this isn't a poem 
it's only an affirmation
of some kind....

missed connections. missed connections 
missed connections 

all those life-changing (in)actions

that could have been
that never were
because they went unseen 

missed connections. missed connections
missed connections

our tooting childhood

-our tooting childhood-
yo-yos, pogs
pokemon cards
poking at frogs
watered down
robinsons dilute
orange juice
building model rafts 
arts and crafts
collecting ladybirds in a jar
memory lane
collecting snails in the rain
peeling them off
one by one by one
those snails in the rain
making daisy chains
in the field, under the blue sky
with friends, 
ahhh to be that age again
the age when
collecting bugs in a jar
made you so happy 
and so did most other things
clouds and cartoons
coloured sugar straws
and water balloons
good time aqua fights, 
in the summer
and sparklers 
on cold autumn nights 
-the smell of fire remains-
and the wonder and the awe
of those bright Christmas lights 
that would pour their magical shine
all around the streets: certain sublime
a string of colourful cards, 
from everyone in your year
friendship bracelets too 
-our tooting childhood-
-that beautiful year: wish I was there-