Wednesday 26 February 2014

an angel in angel

ten thousand years later
she's still riding that same
                                  escalator
up up up to angel
there's an angel
          ----waiting

encounters, that count for--- something

these days
these nights
something else
there's light
everywhere
in every strange encounter
elder stradler, 
elder terry
two young american guys
who preach day and night
we prayed by the road side
i told them about my book
they told me about God
we set a date
for tea, to watch, to watch
the light grow
and differences
that aren't
stradling and terry
where did you guys come from
how did you end up here
in tooting one night
talking to me like
you guys are long-lost mates
I promise its not too late
to see it, through our eyes
we prayed by the roadside
we laughed and tried
to make sense of it----
missionaries
but the magic kind
and the magic of the trippy lights
of london before
walking and walking forever
taking a picture whenever
i thought i saw something 
beautiful and weird
but not another stranger
who sat next to me
a professor
a woman named H
...each day be strange
but then
waiting in the cold
cold cold cold
...........................................cold.......
but waiting in the cold
I remeber

Monday 24 February 2014

where I (don't) go

the smell 
of the book of Mormon
three luxury hot chocolates
talking about faith
and stuff, like pilgrimage
and light
and after the journey ends
before you go home
come see me
and I'll show you 
the city, 

jerk chicken 
by the tent in the green
and hanging out in a dream
falling asleep
           some place
and the canal 
and the canal
and the canal at night
and the canal

and south and west and east and west

I went back for you
you didn't show
so I left real quick
I didn't really know
                        where to go

where I go

there, with strangers
funny how they are 
strangers

when strangers
aren't so

funny, life
like
the strums of his guitar
like walking ahead, so far

and then going back again
and there in the gold light
legs stretched out
towards the chapel 
--------------

there with pretty rose
sweet rose
hope grows
            and     so will you

SPRING is here

he guards lions

and so Jean
that was his name
the night guard 
guarding the lions
of trafalgar square
his stories made the hairs
on the back of her neck 
stand up, 
but not so, 
shelter, she kept low
in the rain, 
by the secret doorway
with t, and Jean
nelson's column 
protrudes
ask me anything

Tuesday 18 February 2014

back to wandering

wandering around again
this time into the city at night
not out of it
but bob was playin jammin
and it all came back to me
I fell in love with london again
and then I thought
would it be rude 
to overtake the limping man
would it be wrong
to leave because I can't stand
the smell of the streets
on a person, so many questions
so many thoughts
and to divide yourself
to cut fiction short
I need to write something down
a book I had in my head for years
but the words
between thought and scribbles
-------------------non--/sense

Sunday 16 February 2014

shadows of nothing

a flash in the dark
and she felt un-beautiful
pale and flaking
making 
out nothing shadows
had those
shadows 
meant something
she wouldn't be there
she would be long gone
instead she felt un-beautiful
under the gleaming cold stars,
she wished she hadn't sacrificed half
of her former self 
for a self that was now divided, 
being divided, 
overrided 
the qualities she once possessed, 
such as being whole and wholly in control 
of her own self
time dissolved

fading numbers
                letters embossed
in dirt

your cats are here

funny when you go
           we stay     put
your presence 
your presence it shook
it touched
a hundred thousand cats
your presence 
your presence never lacked
love, 
but in absence
in absence
we haven't 
found a way
to go away
to go away
we hear them everyday 
a thousand meows
sound out, the felines
you left behind
are wailing
they're sailing 
through the days
            all aimless and shit

Saturday 15 February 2014

twilight thought

life, shouldn't it be
more about beauty
than duty, 
I'm acutely 
aware 
of the fact
that we're all going to die

selflessness and pieces

to cut yourself into pieces
and give them all a part
to gain in increases
before you come to depart
I learnt the art
of selflessness 
during a winter spent in lahore
before a spring that somehow tore
away the baby tulips from the sun
I learnt, to give them all a single part
of the entire sum
of being
and yet to still feel 
as though it isn't nearly enough
it's tough, so goddamn tough
to be there for people
to be there
and when I'm going through the motions
I never ever dare
                                ask        for a soul to be near
cos I understand that to tear
yourself into parts 
is more than one can ever ask
for, so learn
learn to be there for yourself
and learn to be kind

a sisters love

always around
even when you're not
but you were there
and reunited 
it went away
girl I don't quite know 
what to say
but when I looked into your eyes
I knew you knew
the love between two 
sisters, runs so deep
that words don't need
utterance
to just know 
that this is me
that that is you
that even though
we're so far apart, like glue
God binds souls
and one day,
one day
will come back x

Friday 14 February 2014

where i be

geographically lost
mentally absent
i've travelled the length 
                  of this city
yet i still haven't
found it
yeah 48 hours
west, souf
norf and east
i been all around
my forehead creased
in confusion
the puddles
they weren't an illusion
nah they were real
they soaked right through
so I stopped, socks drenched
I began following blue arrows
the sparrow
i don't know
what happened to him,
but i know rhino the chicken
escaped
and then there was that
industrial waste
land with african cosmetics
and a shop called stuff it
where there were stuffed animals
                            and shit
yeaaaah im bare confused
battered by the wind
spiritually starving
---------one day you'll bring
someone comfort. 

Thursday 13 February 2014

ode to all my friends

so much faith in me
you keep me strong
so much faith in me
you don't know how much I long
to make things right for you
to see you always smiling
you're so beautiful and brilliant
I don't know why you're hiding
-------you're beauty
I wish I could make you see
just how special you are
just how far
you're bound to go
I know one day you'll show
the world your true colours
you just need to believe in yourself
like I believe in You
believe me sister,
God's promise is true
and I thank Him everyday 
for bringing you into my life
love to you all

Sunday 9 February 2014

dead grass

the grass 
on the other side,
it ain't green
it's dead and yellow,
but that don't mean 
nothing, see I ain't
looking for greener grass
I'm looking
for a dream ever-last
                                and the truth is
----all dreams come hard
and
               yellow grass
it may be all
                     burnt and scarred
but to water it
to make it green
to invest time and energy
into something
                   that will one day come to mean
so much to so many
that's what its about
          that's what its all about 

riggy and i

my best mate
she's you, sis
 we always have a laugh,
people watching 
in tooting
ain't nothing better
than people watching
in tooting,
ain't nothing better
than             people watching
  ain't nothing better 
                    than               cotching 
moon-dancing in aisles
               and squatting
in sunlight
  we saw them all 
watching, we were mocking
fictional characters
                SO             out of this world
bopping
along like some ghetto santa 
             so much banter
yeah, nothing was wrong
then, nothing was wrong

Saturday 8 February 2014

cold days

cold days
wrapped in a duvet
sniffle, blind sided plays
in the background
and the world is still
you stare up at the window
feeling weary and quite ill
cold days
          you say
a part of you
                        likes being
cold
                wrapped in your duvet
alone, you told            
me nothing beats
that feeling
of humble grey solitude
cold days------------------
let us count ways
to be grateful

Tuesday 4 February 2014

trippy day #970

the trippy moments that made up a day
 proper tired
nahhhh I can't be bothered to relay
the trippy moments that made up a day
there are too many
but let me get it down
before I forget
bethnal green to cambridge heath
hanging out in that cafe 
where I once met E
we discussed debts in the past
now here, everlast
gone-----
a derelict building, a cool factory
of design, 
a Lithuanian church
more than slightly sublime
a computer framed in gold
like a Samuel Palmer
but moving and mundane
and some
street art, before hackney, and another church
a treehouse, a pond and chickens
 cluck cluck
and then a bus bus
to St Paul's in the eve, 
across the bridge
over the river
thinking about you all
while moving with cold wind
a hundred narrow alleys
london. is. weird. 

Monday 3 February 2014

new start #746

another new start
a hundred and ten new faces
another new start
the one I been waiting for forever
no I never
thought I'd arrive here
at present time

this is what I been working for

but wait----

an email from frog life
                            in westgate

but wait----

a conversation in the Waterloo Millennium green
with old scruffy mister tommy with rheumatism
he looked like Fagan
talked like him too
smelt like him too
with crutches and wrinkles
can't remember if he wore shoes
one hundred and one years old
with a mouth on him
but I didn't want it to stop moving 
but time was running out, as ever
and so I shook his worn ancient hand
and said another goodbye 

                                        goodbye
old man fagan
I won't tell you when I fly
I won't ask you to come along
--------sorry I didn't mean to lie

another new start
its the in-betweens that matter
like running under the stars at night
and talking to old man fagan about life

its the in-betweens that matter

but wait-----
nothing.

Sunday 2 February 2014

searching.

of all them people 
closest to me
they don't exist no more

                                        they ain't about that life

see of all them people
           I most wanna find
all them unforgettable people
ain't none of them online
I been wondering for too long
I been wondering how I can find
them people:
                  the real ones
that gone done disappeared
like I sometimes do
they alive still?
                                   if only I knew
where to find them                  
searching, still.

truth and lies

truth lies
in images that
                                       weren't 
in words that
                                   burnt
through paper
                  truth lies
in absence