Tuesday, 30 July 2013

alchemy of parenthood

the alchemy of parenthood
it's not something
I ever thought I would
come to understand
the alchemy of parenthood
they tried so hard 
to be so good
they tried so much harder 
than they ever should
to raise us
giving up all they had,
to make us, happy,
and it's just so sad
that not a single one
repaid the whole or part of the sum
of what they had given us
if only we could 
-be so much better than we are-

Monday, 29 July 2013

deep and heavy -ish (comrades)

it's as hard for me 
as it is you
you offered me a seat
when I was almost through
with sitting
and standing and lying too
but I wanted to listen you, 
but you kind of went on 
and on and on
in a strange incoherent slew
yes and I caught bits of it
like when you said
....life is a paradox 
I've tried everything to untangle 
these knots
in my mind..... 
like when you said 
....I feel like I'll be screwed over
for the things I didn't even do
how can I be judged, 
when I don't know if I'm even true
if I even exist....
-detachment, on a next level-
like when you said
......I prayed to not feel 
and then my prayers were answered
now I wish they went unheard
like the others.....
.....but could I take it back 
for I want to feel once more....
and so I replied
after quite some time
<girl, it's a slippery slope
I hope
you don't slip, cos if you did
that would be the end of it 
and we may be couped 
now, but we ain't a couple of chickens
our skin, it thickens, 
by the day
so just wait, just wait, just wait
I too am waiting.> 
(deep -ish)


I caught a bulldog fly 
across the cotton wool sky
it's giant padded paw prints 
left a trail; a kind of cosmic braille
for the blind, 
(not visually blind, but those who find
nothingness; those unable to read the signs)
imprinted braille above
you cannot fail to love
-the air that holds us in place-
bulldog don't waste 
your paw prints on us human people
(we're not worth it)

Sunday, 28 July 2013

faithless lady

she said I believe
but I don't have any faith
she said listen, what can I say
It's been too hard living
I been through too much shit
you know when I was young I lost a kid,
I lost my boy
and his death destroyed
our marriage, a miscarriage
of unearthly justice
and the fortune teller told me
he would be perfectly healthy
yeah he lied and I tried 
to understand it, but I couldn't
and what followed
left me as hollow
as a nut shell
the hell, of the divorce
I was divorced from my faith
yeah I had to be brave
I had to do it all on my own
and that's when I told her, you know
we human people 
we're so fickle 
with every new pickle
however bitter, however sour
slowly, some how
we lose touch with the greater power
with life itself
and it will pass and it doesn't mean
that you mean nothing
it's just well
-kind of hard to explain-

coastal hymns

that one autumns day 
I'll never forget it
the morning star outside my window
beamed, as I awoke to say my fajr prayers, 
there in that mash-up hostel
I was an apostle  
and at the crack to dawn 
I set out on my long sojourn, 
I made for the valley as the sun rose
higher and higher
the entire
world was still
save me, a dot moving across a great landscape
and I knew that fate, Qadar 
had brought me there
-after everything-
and as I crossed the hills 
on that quiet monday morning
while the whole of earth was ignoring
(everything) with only the sheep 
and horses for company
I knew the meaning of it 
and so I followed the river to the sea 
the cliffs were so wild and empty
and I climbed and I climbed 
I sung hymns on the way
and recited the Quran
Surat an Naba, I prayed
and the birds flit around me, 
listening, keeping me company
and as I finally reached the city 
miles and miles in
a heaviness pressed against my heart
the concrete jungle looked sort of grim
and so I sat by the beach and prayed again
rucksack at my feet 
and a cup of tea by my side to warm my bones
nah, I didn't ever want to go home
yeah I wanted to forever be alone
yeah, since that sacred day and before it too
I've made many a lone sojourn
but none have made me feel so true
as that river, that valley and that sea
to be/ -at peace, like no other-

Saturday, 27 July 2013

yellow peril/ ancient orient

It was all him 
him and his ancient chinese rage
it was all him, no
it's the regime that's really to blame
for oppressing, for suppressing
for creating 
chinky-eyed monsters
mere robots without feelings
layers of normalcy; are gradually peeling
off and revealing, who they really are
-yellow peril-
for it would never be us
who do something so ill, so foreign, by will, 
twisted chinky people, they're still 
stuck in their bad bad ways
-orientalism: that never dies-
for of course we are by far more wise
than the Chinese they say 
for what rational and sane human being 
would ever do that and in that callous way
to throw a child out of a pram 
he couldn't have been mad, no he was
just evil, the product of an evil 
kingdom, yellow peril they say
yellow peril, and their wayward ways
(orientalism that never dies)
multiplied/ lies upon lies upon lies
so frightened of their own demise
yellow peril/ yellow peril/ yellow peril

horse says neigh!

she rocked up 
at a macdonalds drive through
on her high horse
yeah she spoke into
the intercom, but on the other side
he wasn't having it
the anonymous voice said in a fit
of amused rage,
lady quit horsin' around
ain't no horses allowed in the drive through
miffed, she took him inside 
and the horsie did a poo 
right there in the middle of Maccy D's
somebody call da police!
the crowds shouted,
poor horsie had been out-ed
and them crowds, they was sorely offended
nah the horse never quite blended
in MacDonalds
neeeeeeigggggghhhhhhhhhhh! indeed

some friendly advice

she said Sy
your not the type 
to be kept in a box
you're a high flyer 
and you've got lots 
going for you 
and we may not be
where we need to be
right now, but it's a start 
and you'll see
Sy your truly 
an inspiration
you take chances
and I wish I could do the same.

Friday, 26 July 2013


bruv, you gone' be
a somali geologist?
bruv, you know
dat was like
ma one and only wish
bruv, all dat (hard) work, 
it amounted to -ish
to be a geologist
yeah I took dat risk 
and failed

upside down gravity

a bit of rainbow
in the sky 
oh, please don't go away
oh, please don't die
a bit of rainbow in the sky
I spy my little eye...
...something beginning with
a cosmic galaxy
mirror walls that defy
-astronomical calculations-
never-evending constellations
I spy, shiny silver walls
that reflect the gravity that falls
the wrong way


it's wearing thin
I wish I could shed 
this sickly sickly skin
i wish I could remove
this cut out heart made of tin
and place therein
light upon light upon light
and the highlands beckons 
the outback too
flashback friday
my, it's strange how you 
both got in touch on that same day, 
and I'm still there now
January the first, but my thirst 
-has increased ten-fold-
to turn dust to gold
the alchemy of life/ still goes untold

Wednesday, 24 July 2013


toss it
in the bin 
fold it up
and put it in
a black hole
put it away
go pray
for something better

Tuesday, 23 July 2013

fading hours

That night 
yeah you're right 
it was more than surreal 
those golden fading hours
we spent staring at the sky 
I was dreading, so dreading
our impending goodbye
I remember a plane passed by
yeah a plane
and I was thinking
you'll be on that in a day
and I'll still be here, lying on the grass
looking up at you
that evening
staring at the sky
talking talking talking 
about God, about life
about everything
about the signs 
and the future, the future, the future
it was more than surreal
Shepherds Bush mosque
watching the clock 
the seconds tick tick tick
waiting till I could drink 
the holy water and the date
and you went and saved
me a seat and then I came after you 
and he came before me
the best thing that never happened
and he happened to be
pretty suave and I could see
what you saw in him then 
and it wasn't a goodbye
Shepherd Bush that night
it was more of a so long
I was left feeling as empty as a drum
with that final hug
with those so so familiar words
of meeting in the next world 
if either of us don't make it in this one
like the way we broke apart
srdf, what then-
man, it's been a hell of a journey
and I sort of don't want it to end
girl, what can I say,
that you don't already know
-see you again, yeah-
(not a goodbye)

river pinn wander

that, post-work hike 
a wander, not quite 
urban, the river pinn
the celandine route
the hillingdon trail
for parts of it we stayed mute
watching that rare bird
flit across the the glittering water
bathing it's little birdy feet
gosh I thought I ought-a 
take a photo
draw a picture
for it was such a picture
-beautiful, every inch of it- 
but I had no camera, no pencil, no phone
but none of that mattered
and I didn't want to go home
-so we dallied-/ -so we dallied-
by the ragweed, we carried, 
ourselves through it, the gold, 
I sort of, kind of, wished I could hold
onto that fleeting evening gold
the bees bathed in it, the ethereal beams
recycled it seems,  
and so we sat by the edge of the bank 
talking, she and I 
in life I've learnt how to get by 
by being versatile, by being free
no plans, we 
just set off
through the village 
by the river pinn
butterflies all around
wild, empty, so far from prim
the creek, tales of running 
of trying to seek 
out some kind of something
and the wildflowers
and the horses
and that donkey with flies
around its eyes, 
he blinks so sweet
oh and the reeds, the grasses, 
kind of takes me back 
to walthamstow marshes
watching the sky change
the sky, if only I could stare at it
as much as I stare at that office screen
sometimes I just want to scream
'this isn't me! 
this isn't where I'm supposed to be!'
get out of the office 
Sy, cut your losses and lose yourself 
in the beauty of the real
by the colours of the sky
nature heals, 
and she understands why
so we kind of walked for miles 
yeah we walked
two half-strangers and we talked
one comes, one leaves, one comes, one leaves
the open spaces/ the falling leaves
the running water 
what it means to be free
and I remember that song
about that sad man who has born by the river
in that little old tent 
and just like that river 
he be running ever since
oh the sunset sky/ and the never-ending horizon 
-prize them/ both-
for the world doesn't get old, or dull 
we do, this much I know is true
and the glittering gold 
on the hottest day of the year
after a bus and a farewell
I somehow ended up here, in Uxbridge 
-to embark now, on the long journey south-

plans made

and suddenly 
I want to cancel 
all the plans I made
as those old dying people wait 
for it to pass, I lie on grass 
and also wait

tropical storm

a tropical storm
brewed over the republic of tooting
-uprooting, any notion of sleep-
eluding, any dry form that might keep
itself to itself 
for all of a sudden fat monsoon rain
fell from the midnight sky
so I went outside 
in the garden and they were there already
in the lightning flashes I saw them 
over joyed
soaking in the rain
I felt like I was nine years old again
in Lahore, watching it pour
watching them laugh
so I closed the door 
and joined them

Sunday, 21 July 2013

ramadan blues

ramadan blues
too much time to think
and so I think about you
I think about them serious charges,
in a past life, he barges 
right through
as I sit and think about you
same shit, yeah nothing new
and while he's living the dream in cairo
you're living the nightmare in philly
and while he's on the other side of the planet
he's in a field jamming to tunes at latitude
this collective attitude, of apathy
it's kind of killing me
inside, yeah ramadan blues
trying to get through
the days, these hot and empty days
Ya Allah, why are they so empty, 
see we got plenty woes, 
that just won't go
away and she's a million miles away 
yeah she's slipping
and I've got to be strong 
forever, for all 
when all I want really
is to give up, to go away, to find heaven
to find some peace, to be at ease
to be well, Ya Allah please tell
me how to live
-in all darkness-

home, you get there

distorted time
sorted through a ryhme 
that configured a day
back then,
I figured I'd just say
what came to me,
and this is it-
the gold light 
on ealing common
we were both feeling
a little solemn
at the prospect
at the end of an era
nothing then
could be un-clearer
hmm distorted time
the night and day
no longer two separate entities
no, they become the same
sixteen hours away from home
sixteen hours in another zone
eighteen without food or water
to keep me going  
I remember the lamb to the slaughter
Abraham's son, no, the lamb
and I too, am,
it and I thought of the dead bird,
pieces of flesh and feather
that found each other and came together
came to life and flew towards you
speaking in it's own language,
yes to this day, I remember
the ark, and the split sea,
and the ark 
and i came to realise that we 
are so much tougher than we believe 
we just keep
going and somehow 
despite all odds 
we get home
(if home is where we're supposed to be)

Saturday, 20 July 2013

another friend lost

remind me, 
why are we, 
no longer talking? 
you know
its too short
too tragic and
too transient 
too rapid
for us to be absent 
and I don't know why
I feel like I'm 
to blame
for our estrangement
yeah, it's pretty lame
-this whole not talking-
yeah I'm still stalking
you on twitter
a flitter
yeah just another flitter
I thought I'd stick a 
round this time
-I thought you would too-

buried in words

to be buried in words
God, I don't know what to do
to be buried in words
God, I wish I was next to You
I don't wanna be here
Lord, I don't wanna be here no more
the hours, the minutes, the seconds
they bore and they bore
holes, Lord so many holes,
so I buried myself 
in words that once consoled
those words Lord
they've grown terribly old
and so have I 
Lord, so have I

fat cow

yeah I heard 
dat some man in Brazil
in some place called Caratinga
was just lying in bed
one summers afternoon
minding his own business
when da ceiling broke
and a cow fell on him
that poor bloke,
he died, just like dat
and dat fat
cow just mooed

Friday, 19 July 2013

Silver Lining

hanger lane
the silver lining
its you, sam
it's being in your ends
it's getting to hang out with you friend
after work,
 so nice, to hang in hanger lane,
yeah, to this day we both remain
-true sisters-
sharing rhymes, 
a true poet (you)
inspired me, to become someone new 
and in hanger lane, 
we find ourselves again
talking about old times
and new to come, 
travelling the world
we planned it in that greasy spoon cafe
one winters evening after maghrib
or was it after football
back with F, 
yeah three muskateers
yeah we had such few fears
back then 
and even back in Richmond
yeah sam, you and I 
we go way back 
and inshAllah 
we'll go way forward too
inshAllah our plans become true
of setting up our charities
of making life work 
of sticking to the path 
the path we both embarked
on all those years ago
Sam, let's stick to the plan
let's do dis ting!

fashion girl

it's too small a place
and too many people I used to know
keep coming up again, like 
fashion girl, 
fashion girl I don't want to face.....
...man, I need to go somewhere
new, I been saying this for years
but seriously I'm through
with london 
yeah I'm done with this 
too small place


all this time
I thought all this time
had been
more terrible than terrible
but when I find myself struggling
I find myself doing, just as much
the last six months have been harder 
than bricks, but in them I've 
on changing for the better
In the last half year
I've received and achieved
so much more, than I may have otherwise
propelled by purpose and pain
the train, of life chugs forth
and I always come to realise 
that I am so much more
than I give myself credit for 
and well, I still believe that hell 
can teach us the things heaven 
can't even understand
well, I know it all comes from above
if it didn't I'd still be in last year
wallowing in self-pity
remaining just as still 
or even stiller, in a city
I don't even know
-peceptions, ever-evolving-

Thursday, 18 July 2013

A bus driver named Roland

Jamaican bro, you know,
you got such swagger
such a shining personality
 and gradually, it shone through
yeah Roland, you are, by far
da safest bus driver I ever met
how we met
it's kind of funny,
you shut off da engine of da bus
one night, in da city of London
 and I got on board
and you said I can stay on, if I talk to you
and so I did, Roland we talked about life
-who knew-
yours, a bus driver since the age of 18
that's 14 years, cos now you be thirty two
you said you wish you never blew
your shot and became a drop out engineer
but life, it gets in the way
yeah we shared bare jokes
and you asked my opinion
on all sorts of things
and it was kind of funny
just you and I chatting on the darkened bus,
that night, it was kind of like
we were the only people left in the world
I told you about the juice bar in Trinidad
or Costa Rica and you said you liked the idea
and I said I swear,
you should just copy me
and actually make it real
Roland you told me then
you were feeling kind of blue that day
yeah it made you vex
when your girl said
-you da man, you pay-
there we were talking, on the 188
and then the bus moved forward
and the people at the stop moved to get on
but you didn't open the doors,
in the dark, we just kept on talking.
you said you see a lot of faces
all of them are dark,
you said they never said hello,
they just mutter or bark,
nah, they never say hello
but out of all the bus drivers, you gave it a go
hello/ hello/ hello
and so when the lights finally went on
and the people of the night boarded
I went upstairs, happy to have got the bus
and when I came down again, you said
I was the nicest person you ever met
I replied same here
and listen, don't get me wrong
I ain't naive yeah
I just know a special person when I meet one
and Roland, you was da sum
of special
and if we kept talking, I knew we would become
pretty good mates
you said
we'll catch up if you see me again
be good, be safe, no- I know you will 
you said, I don't know what to say
two strangers, about to part ways
a hesitance, a reluctant,
departure at elephant
when it came to saying goodbye
and man Roland, i know it too well
see its the people I meet
out on the streets 
its them who teach 
me everything i need to know
and roland bro
I already kind of miss you
-safe bus driver-

wax sax man

-is his heart still beating?- 
he's always there, 
on that same bench sleeping
I wonder what's keeping
him from opening his eyes? 
maybe he's not human
he sort of looks like 
he's made of wax
beside him, his old suitcase
on his lap, his rusty sax
sometimes I want to poke him
to find out the truth
is he a living human? 
-or simply uncouth-
but poking a wax sax sleeping dummy
is a pretty dumb-y 
thing to do, he might open his eyes
and yelp something weird like Boo!
and scared I'd go running, 
and amused, he'd think it's funny
and maybe just laugh
I'd be glad then, that he can
laugh that is, 
maybe he is, some kind of
modern Boo Radly,
sadly, I think it will remain
one of life's mysteries
-never to know/ if wax man will show-
his true nature

breezy abaya

a breezy
thing to wear
there's no need
to question your attire
whether its trampy or tarty
silly or narky
you're just you 
you're just who
you should be 
for what you are 
is not what you wear
or what wears you
it's the person 
the blackness of the abaya
it doesn't hide
the real self
it just hides everything
the real self hides behind 
-d'you get me?-


relax it ain't a date
it's more like out reach 
I'ma help you reach out
but first we gonna go out
and you gonna shout
at the world, 
you gonna go mad
proper, it'll make you feel glad
then you gonna make 
that jump, yeah you gonna let go
you gonna show
dem demons dey got nuttink on you
dey ain't go nuttink
make dat jump and prove
you stronger then dat

ugandan coppers

did I ever tell you 
my brother, he lived in uganda 
for a time, yeah he got some dough
from the bill gates foundation
and gone done bought some mosquito nets
yeah I found some coins,
ugandan coins, in ma room the other day
them coins he gave
me as a gift. yeah I wish 
I had thanked him then 
for them 
ugandan coppers
back then, out of the blue
them Ugandan coppers
they called you
-who knew, what went down-
yeah my brother, he's kind of like Jason Borne
he was born 
out of this world, 
and his life, is a complete mystery
even now
 more so now than ever
-I pray for you everyday-

30 days

don't be proud
it comes from God
(don't be loud)
don't be vocal, keep those local 
voices inside
for thirty days we've tried
scarce sleep 
nights for worship
gold evenings for friendship 
family, sharing and caring
yeah caring, about reality
about getting real 
and trying to fall in love again
with You
trying to seek truth
when the heavens are brought 
close, so am I
-a beautiful thing, to be Muslim-
(who with knowledge, can deny) 


morrocco in jan
it took twenty seconds to book 
it took twenty seconds to plan 
and from there we can
go wherever else

secret japanese garden

secret japanese garden
kind of eastern; pretty in pink
pine evergreen
doused in silver ink
in the midday sun, it shines iridescence
secret japanese garden 
yeah I kind of wish you just came 
and found me there all alone
and started talking to me
maybe you could have blown
my life wide open
but i waited and i waited
in the secret japanese garden
and then my time came
and yeah you never came
why would you have

Tuesday, 16 July 2013


to be 
stuck in a rut
to give everything
 to not give up 
to want, so want 
to find a place
that makes you feel 
kind of secure
some place that makes clear, 
what's its all for
all this living, all this giving
all this trying
-to keep going-
just another day
(just another day)

the mere, idea of a hike

the mere, idea of a hike 
in ickenham, in denham
neutralised any venom
that remains, thanks T
it's funny; C,
I kind of was thinking about you
and then you sent me an email...
crazy girl C, i miss you
them crazy adventures
-who knew-
5 years on, this is where we'd be

cowboy songs

garden shed darkness
in the flicker of candlelight 
we sing sad old cowboy songs
-almost every night-

motorway reverie

I saw her the other day,
lying on a patch of green 
beside the motorway,
yeah she seemed
to be in a daze, but her face
 it looked rather peaceful 
rather un-the-same
so I just left her there
I left her there to lay,
I didn't dare bother her
for I know I am a bother to her
yeah I just let her lay, by the motorway
on the green, for it seemed,
she was finally
at peace

dreaming of heaven

Hmm night
around quarter past eleven
alone on the tube, I was
dreaming of heaven 
then they came aboard
the protitutes
the swearing drunkards
a fat round lady
and a man who looked rather shady
or was it a woman 
who knows, all I know
is that the calm, 
of ramadan 
began to wane 
but then i got off and got the bus
and on it, I saw seated
a single old man
of Somali decent, of course
reciting the Quran 
an it was kind of
really beautiful
and it was restored
-the calm, of ramadan-

the devils are chained

-the holy month-
the devils are chained
and what remains
is what is yours
what belongs to you
write it down, before
you speak it

Tolkien's Ring

He said
opposites attract
she replied
don't detract
from the situation at hand,
look just be a man
and tell Tolkien
you have the ring
she said
look you've got what it takes
to bring
about salvation
for humankind
(but you can't do it alone)
and no,
opposites don't attract
they just detract
from the situation at hand

girl, what?

a mystery
I wish that she
had just said
what she wanted to say
I wish she had just been brave
for now we've come too far to save 
-it-/ what we had

another missed connection

hmm who did I see
in the world on this day
getting off the lift at russell square
you looked
rather disgruntled, sort of weird
sort of  a bit baffled
wholly out of this world 
-as ever, you never-
saw me 

holy night

wandering after then 
after the solitude set in
on that green 
outside the tent
listening to them laugh 
human people, I went
so far and so far
I walked away 
after saying goodbye
I was lost, in the night
in the holy night
I walked and walked
through the empty streets
under the glare of the neon lights,
thinking to myself I can't keep
walking, but I found somewhere
but life does wear
upon this soul
it will take a long time 
for these walls to be absent 
to be at one
with anything

perfect exit

Her perfect exit, she left it
and she told him to carry on
where she left off
and what about my perfect exit
it never happens.

another goodbye

It's my last day too,
Sy, you said before we left
 and I turned around and said 
I'll see you in Mogadishu
and I meant it

thanks love

you called me from the airport 
before boarding your flight
but the line got cut 
so now, let me say it right
before life, 
makes me forget
-thank you, I love you- 
and see you again one autumns day

monday's are hard

dreading the coming monday
more so knowing you won't be there
feeling sort of empty
 kind of can't believe you left me here

weirdness sustained

my life man
-a weirdness sustained-
its beyond crazy
yeah I was on geo again
I was just as hazy
and wacked out
as the first time
in lahore
and I just nap anywhere
like I did before, 
like I used to in a rickshaw
or wherever sleep comes
on the grass
the train
some random common room
man, I'm off my game

Gone, gone, gone

what to do, now you're gone
what to do, now I got no one
to keep me company
so here I am
up against this weathered beat-up tree
writing weathered beat-up poetry
so here I am by the motorway
writing and it feels like just yesterday
you were here next to me
-so what next?-


dropping like flies
so few have survived
to be here always
but I know your always there 
when I need you
even if you aren't, materially. 


my next move
is to perhaps to remove 
myself from here
I swear, it's been to long,
and I know it's time for me 
to move on
but where, where, where to go
on this big earth,
I just don't know.

girl like me

hmm think he could ever like 
a girl like me?
half-mad, wholly lost
and more than a little flaky
space cadet, I bet 
you didn't know 
she's got a lot to give
but most people, they don't get her
and the way she chooses to live
still I wonder
could he ever like a girl like me
a righteous guy like that 
hmm I doubt it, but maybe we'll see

Monday, 15 July 2013


yeah it is,
so weird to be wearing
an abaya again
yeah it is,
so weird to be reacquainted
with that old friend
hmm abaya
am I liar?
am I a fraud?
just trying to aim higher
i kind of, sort of, love you
you make me feel almost real 
back to black, back on track 
sort of,  kind of, feeling again 

one person

yeah sometimes it just takes 
one person
to turn everything around
that person is you
but sometimes you need
someone else
to remind you
that you can
turn everything around
-to change, it's never too late-

Sunday, 14 July 2013

African Heart

sort of in love 
with Africa
the people across the lands
-savannah connections-
dry, arid, hot
and when the old ladies
give me a secret smile
(it happens a lot)
I think to myself, maybe they know, 
I share the same blood
sort of we all do, Indian or not
they smile a lot 
African smiles 
beauty, in love with Africa

next door gypsies

irish traveller man 
smokes a joint 
while irish traveller boy 
plays ball, in the tall 
yellow grass
and it kind of looks like
he's havin' a mighty blast
but on the other hand
irish traveller man
looks sort of troubled
as he smokes his joint
and stares at bits of rubble
on the yellow grass
side by side, together
tattoos cover arms
paint covers tattoos
and then, he whips out 
his blackberry
and gypsy boy
runs a hand through his 
raggedy mow-hawk
hmm and she told me about
him and his little brother
who got rammed by a bull
horns touched body
he's lived a life so full
travelled the world,
totes unschooled
nine years old yeah,
to be a gypsy, I swear
that be the life

Friday, 12 July 2013

word therapy

you just don't get it 
do you? 
listen, I just like to write
shit down 
for no reason I've found
writing to be 
some kind of therapy 
some kind of cathartic 
yeah since I started 
I've not been able to stop
and now I don't want to drop
the words


sunny days
kicking back with ma mates
and on the way, I make
jokes, with random folks
and on the way,
I smile at strangers everywhere
without a single care 
in the world 
i remember then 
-I'm the most blessed person-
and life is actually 
more beautiful 
than beautiful 
yeah so take no notice
of the sadness for gladness
is ever-lasting
-Lord, it's YOU-

tale of two cities

mogadishu/ lahore
it eluded me before
yeah, I never saw
it, and if I hadn't now
I never would have known
the closeness between them 
yeah I admit, I was kind of thrown
when I found out
that they're one and the same
but the perception 
it still remains
-of difference-

Wednesday, 10 July 2013

funny/ the weird kind

old african man 
forgotten lottery numbers 
young indian man
a glass of red wine
school boy of twelve
ahead of his time
you said you don't know what
you're going to do with your life
in a manner of such panic
(just breathe kid, no one knows)

Sunday, 7 July 2013

south ken

south ken
can't describe what I felt when
i moved through the dark subway
for the first time since that dark day
and I'd love to say 
that I've changed, but in all honesty
I haven't and for some reason
I still haven't let go of this place
for it was here, I came face to face
with my brokenness
-a stirring unrest (remains)-
and listen, I need to say 
what's in my head
so that I can finally move on
listen, I've never known 
what it means to belong
I've only ever known
what it means to be wrong
and out of the hundred thousand places I've been 
this is the only place I can't seem
to shake off, I know I've got a lot
to learn, you know one day,
 I'd like to turn
it all around; I'd like to be found
I'd like to stop running. I'd like to live on the ground
not in the air, not in outer space
not in this place, 
that exists outside of material reality
listen can't you see, I'm trying to work
through it still
 this place-
abruptly I entered/ abruptly I left
and since then I've tried to forget 
and remember everything
-the whole of life-
but listen, I don't know man, 
I guess it was the only place
that two strangers tried,
two 'supervisors,'
maybe they're the reason why 
I can't let go, 
I want to change, but I don't know
how. Yeah, I miss you guys.
(and all the people I haven't seen since December)
and all the friends who I still remember
and think about all the time
and I want to change
yeah I want to change
I don't wanta be estranged
from humankind no more.
shit, can't believe
she thinks I'm still in lahore

Mikaela M

Mikaela Mullings
you came across
as a young Skunk Anansie
and I saw you, yeah I saw you 
another stranger on the train
Mikaela Mullings
I don't know why
I remember your whole name
when you couldn't even recognise
me; my face
yeah there I was with my mates
on that central line train, laughing
but looking at you
trying to break through
some kind of impenetrable barrier
perception/ time
yeah I'm still trying to find
a way to reconnect with the past
Garbage in art class
-that's all I remember-

Thursday, 4 July 2013

don't sell out

yeah man
i know 
ma books would never sell 
cos well, 
dey be honest
and honestly 
folks don't care about honesty 
no more, 
dey only care
about dem tings dey saw
in da movies, like
sex, drugs, rock and roll
see most people, yeah
dey don't give a shit
about da soul
about da whole
scheme of tings

joy/ a choice

hmm joyous, so joyous
to connect, to reflect 
on certain joys, boy 
am I going to miss you
and when I saw you
on the train, miss Q and we
talked about old history
it slowly came back to me
and the river brent
it went 
it went back 
to MaccyD's 
orange carrier bags 
yeah, at ease
but boy 
did I feel awkward
when you all cried
and when my words
were lacking, 
I wondered why
I felt nothing
when she must have meant 
(to me)

Wednesday, 3 July 2013


a decision to make
the precision it will take
to be 
right for once, 
to see 
the light for once
or, or, or, 
again and again and again
will I ever overcome this thing, I sense
I may... one day, but that's
no good for me now,
that's no good for today
for today
the heart,
it grows ever-ever-ever grey

reviving dreams

dreamed i was 
in the basement
and the ceiling 
came crumbling down
dreamed I finally found
him from whom's rib
I was carved from
the meaning of perfection
(only to me) I long 
to find that being
to find a way of being
that estranged part of me
stranger still, that these dreams 
revive my slumbering soul
yet when I awake
same old, same old, same old
 still- the smiles they withhold
and impart, say everything
like the trembling already half-way there
man who took a seat, 
he took three
yes small kindnesses 
they exist out there on the streets

small kindnesses 
will they keep, will they keep, will they keep
us from the fire?

a gram

time man 
it kinda blows my mind fam
it kinda turns me blind, I am
still tryna find
a gram
of remorse
in this heart
of mine

Tuesday, 2 July 2013

east acton

passing through east acton
merging hours in the west
just moving with gravity
hmm I've got to confess
it eludes me still
this strange part of the city
the river brent
I wish I hadn't lent
it now,  
can I ask for it back somehow? 
...probably not...
broken ribs
a whole load of fibs
life gives and gives and gives
and we just go

sleeping beauty on the train

he watched her 
as she rested her head 
against the glass
eyes closed
on the central line train
keyed up and nervous
he could hardly contain 
himself, were his eyes deceiving
was he still breathing
was she really there, in front of him
after all these years, a glorious mirage
here she was sleeping beauty
sleeping truly on the tube,
sleeping like she used to
a thousand years ago
and here he was, sat opposite, just staring
the world around him was fast disappearing
time, it stood still and in silence he willed 
her to open her eyes and
every time they flickered
his heart leapt 
up, sleeping beauty, he whispered
in his mind, open your eyes
open your eyes, open your eyes
his whispers grew louder
and more desperate
open your eyes
open your eyes, open your eyes
-a hundred thousand tries-
open your eyes

open your eyes

open your eyes
then all of a sudden the train alighted
-he leapt up-
I must fight it
forever happened 
and it can't be undone
and if you can't open your eyes
it means I've become 
wholly irrelevant

-and just like that he departed-