Tag Archives: culture

Haiku – #ALM

Watermelon smiles and trigger happy chickens.

Melting pot meltdowns.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Random Poetics

Sounds of Blackness

sounds-of-blackness-cover

These are the sounds of blackness

If we stay measured by our grinding we’ll never sharpen up our axis

Scene stealers bring the heat but it seems we lack match practice

Not light on our feats, we’re dancers when we ought to be actors.

We stage plays until we’re lost in scrabble like crabs in a labyrinth

Quoting Lauryn Hill until our X -Factor becomes an ex-factor

Command and conquer has me on red alert with our allies fakin’ basement jax

Hipsters’ hula hoop with hegemony until free style is legalized and we remain blood donors

We say the onus is on us to own us so that we are for us by us

Yet mantras dissolve like sugar cane in coffee cups because nobody wears F.U.B.U

 

Its heir conditioning

We love a smiley culture, accepting urban as our synonym

Lost in the dark the loan sharks claim all the benefits

We do the mathematics while the denominator plays percentages

The N is friend and nemesis yet the beaten tracks remain pendulums

I’m so stirred by the barge pole to our differences I boil with my pencil tips

I question time while I mastermind stealing money from penitentiaries

There’s no full disclosure why we play Uncle Tom to get Meredith

 

 

Bludgeoned by the tomato in the melting pot, our fruits become vegetables.

Insanity is palpable when we become cordial, edible, diluting our primordial forces

3 percent leviathan there’s simply no denying the 97 percent are buying us.

Hoodies and patois mean gangster until the right people license it

I turn off the radio because folk only listen to what the pirates’ ship

Twerking their blurred lines old as the night sky

Don’t be naive as the promise of fidelity during a summer of 69

They may think they’re robbing thick; it’s more like shopping from Be Wise.

Do popular culture aborigines need a rabbit proof fence?

 

Questions posing for the picture I hate this i-coonography

Boys dancing in their Jordan’s we see no trainers like Michael

Worship at the church of struggle using perception as the bible

We’re making up the numbers 

It ain’t fair ground with these Malibu minded 

Coconut shy stunters

 

See though frames display anything, it’s self-love before any man 

Soul raw like Tracy Emin giving birth to a tribe of Eminems

I fight for coffee’s place at the table and inhale the war of the roses for water has no enemies

Where choice is a figure of speech undressed by extra capital

We’ve all got across to bear, don’t call me Paddington

Survival tactics like silver back ants in Saharan Africa

Best work in the sun, rest in the shade, upgrade your engine room

I mean there’s no use plucking Garveyisms like the last feathers of a Christmas turkey hoping the message strikes when even the teachers aren’t learning

London’s bridge is burning; I’ve got Fanon, Farrakhan, and Martin Luther to listen to

Living’s a tough job we’ve got to make it out of the inner view

With these, the sounds of blackness.

Leave a comment

Filed under Race

Gladstone 2013: I am Stoke

I was asked to write and perform a poem that celebrated the essence of my adopted home of Stoke-on Trent. This was  for an event called “Night at the Kiln” held at Gladstone Pottery Museum.   Having only 3 poems in possibly hundreds that have any geographical connection I rose to the challenge. The poem and performance are below

For just 12 square miles many arrive from thousands
Like carnival crowds bouncing, pounding the ground
Spending time here like it’s something they’re proud of
Cos our shadow over Alton, towers like Big Ben does the Thames
Yet Ben has no friends unlike Burslem who in 1910 gave birth to 5 daughters that matured as 5 sisters
5 towns like olympic rings on Staffordshire’s hill fingers
Angels of the Midlands determinedly insistent on preparing delights more than our nation could like
So we slow danced with ballerinas in brick tutus, waltzing with time
And for generations smoke like dark knights of the dining table patrolled the sky
See we are the iron butterfly and I recognise that
Many hands made the heart beat so that we could learn new steps
By 1952 we could finally draw breath, the stage was set, they had to fade from black,
No intervals it was straight into the clean air act,
She had to to clean her act up,
No smoking just patches of factories to see the mighty potters scoring
If time is really money this woman’s work is worth a fortune

Her shoulders have been broadened so that Emma could build bridges of polka dot porcelain over Trent’s troubled waters
From Steelite to Wedgwood we should now applaud us
I wish we could expand the borders so others reap the rewards of this city and her best work
We’re mobilising generations like a tectonic mobile network

Our net worth is working for us so I swim in this reflection
That I’m just potty about the potteries, I’ve been since the inception
If Stoke Minster blessed the marriage we’re the child of its conception
Babes of moulded clay on display beyond Hanley and Trentham

To pot banks we are indebted, we’ll never pension off our heritage,
Guarding it safely every day and year is our only will and testament,
Being thankful for how blessed we’ve been, What next? I hear you wrestle with,
For every revelation there has to be a genesis, gotta prevent an exodus

Pestering specialists for excellence, decadence without rhetoric
Go out and tell your relatives, 3 words that I hope will stick
I am Stoke
Our temperament of gentleness brought us to this pre-eminence
Now our inheritance procures sentiment and reverence
Stoke on trent is best at being more than a
Oatcake munching
Long ball playing, Eh up duck saying
Mighty mouse between two giants
Our blood, sweat and water ways are the reason why you eat from fine China
One night in a kiln, we are all now enlightened.
Now that you know why I know
That I am Stoke

Leave a comment

Filed under Random Poetics

Who got tha Props

My umi says Shine your light on the world……
They made us hate our self and love their wealth
Shine your light for the world to see…….
Dear Madam Noire I want to be a world star
Hip Hop Hip Hop
We made us hate ourselves
Now we’re in rude health
It hits hard, hits hard
Divide by stealth
Now we gotta freeze hell
Big drop, Pit Stop,

I said
Do you know who hates black people?
Black people
In spite of a rich history we broadcast our misery
Our position be flippancy
If nobody knows the program why should folk love our frequency?
Instead of calling each other hoes and pimps why don’t folk play the game secretly
It’s Maybach Music
Never the corporation
So many crabs on the sure are we a cancer nation?
A plantation, with foundation
O#, so sick of sick with it I think I need some sanitation
Seems hate is our salvation
Why do we baptise in lies if we’re only saving face
I lift my hands in Oprah Praise
To Truth

Afro trendsetters only ever strived to be better
Yet we pray for equality like Eskimos for hot weather
Chicken don’t love eggs fried,
So hot under the collar it’s like your friend with your ex I
Speak life to race questions if we’re going to be winning
So many us and them mindsets we’re scratching records not spinning
Gunning, running and grinning, romancing and sprinting
Lancing the sinning when its really challenging perception
One true definition of blackness? Now that’d be immaculate inception

So mixed up we’re a mixed race with time to hate on the mixed face
Cooking souls like jerk chicken unless their hot on a mix tape,
Barack Obama, black father, white mama, married black so why bother
If he’d married Monica Lewinsky would he still be so honoured?
Why are we still so bothered it’s time I shot the songbird
Your weave comes from east Asia so you ain’t a boss you’re a product
A mollusc talking bollocks who strains for a look
Ain’t nothing worse than a half baked crook

So beat up by blackness I’m a maybe seal
If I love Garvey’s and Heidi Klums does that make me less real
Exercising demons for Jesus to take the wheel
Lets to talk about sex baby
Or I wont know how to feel because lately
All I hear is, it’s ok to like white people
As longs it’s the right people
Yet the way of these Chinese whispers I wonder if it’s ok to like people?
See lately…..I wonder could you be the one’s to save me
And after all ….
I promise to take the knives out my back when I learn to eat with your forked
Tongue
Can’t we all get along?
Respect one another?
I’m so enlightened I’m like Beyonce
Next album cover

I should of spat into a rubber cos you’d have heard me right?
Prefer to read me wrong
Someone could take me out tonight
Yet see for every open mike a brother’s lost his life
To a brother who got too hyped
Now his baby mother be turning dike
Wonder are the kids alright
Is the flash of a gun to be their only light
My fish for answers yields only tripe and I, I, I
Just can’t stomach it
I hate this function room
A bulb can grow or shine it ain’t just gotta be screwed
Just feed it the right food
Create the right environment
Administer a bit of discipline
Those rough edges will need less ironing

Being us it’s an in-fighting thing
Yet one we share with society is that
It’s scary that parent’s don’t even want to be parents
Rather children make an appearance in county court has new talent
We fed fire, get blackened, our George just lost to the dragon
I crack my egg in your basket stir in the mind of a mad man
Call on the piper of Hamlyn to fight the piper of gangland
Imagine taking some action, eschewing predator fashion
Beating kids at home so teachers don’t have to
It’s time to embrace humanity
Not everything need be coloured black true?
Seems all learn to smile so sweetly while privately hating you.
So being true to myself sometimes feels like pay per view
Tell me who got tha props.

Leave a comment

Filed under Race

Rays Ft MizzFab

I saw light flicker through the blinds
no longer blind , i knew the world was mine
no ours, no hours
to waste
they waste time on hating
two negatives
dont make a positive
No more palindromes of paradox or perogative
My vision is nitrous oxide, I’m ready to drive
Blow out the flame of past pain
wipe out the not again
mistakes have been my oxygen then I changed the tanker
Vitriol came in a vial but it wasn’t a banker
No more effing with the canker
I’m a jolly W*nker
Ready to tango with success while my haters turn into fanta
Now where reaching for the clouds,time to turn their nonsense down
Break through death’s smog emission
Till I am free again
Till I can breath again
My heart is beating again
Sunshine scribing
Maybe we can put hope in the atmosphere
its time to heal mother earth
love is a phantom ghost
jealousy has somehow hindered conectivity
social networking now the breakdown of humanity
an excuse for people to act more stupidly
Folks act like they’re the praying mantis yet they get smoked liked buddha
Name called in the J Hall, black tune white sound
Shudder…
When the I am I can reads shoulda woulda coulda
I amp up the heat dissolve all the sugar
It’s game time on this trainline they call me formula durex they way I burn rubber
Burn down pages ,then restart this
journey
it’s time for rebirth
spring melodies
it’s a time for peace
time to release
hate
its been enslaved in hearts
for too long
we’ve been slipping
for to long
now it’s time we move on
Dub, like the proverbial
sacrifice to deserve it all
love so sick its terminal
Peace to the fervent war
outer cry the inner roar
we hang in the balance like trapeziums were platforms
waiting for a new day
time to break away from the norm
reaching for the stars
connect em like dots
we all have our spot
in the great circle
time to move forward
instead of falling back
we don’t change our ways we plait forms
scratch our air till the viny’ls worn
The concept of me ain’t a stuck record its just a waste of space in a hater base
Where I live ain’t a free base
a mistake an’t a choke
yet we hang onto the past like we playin the bar dumb broke
Pigeon pie instead of humble chips
You call them honest if they mumbles less
fumble less
its a dog eat dog world but folk love to jungle dress
Y’all ain’t ish on a shoe until you kiss ass then you’re polish
How can we can a culture of peace when we’re less cultured than the amish
yet it isn’t the time to be hopeless
we survivors ,birthed for success
programmed for violence
the time is now
to stop all this
heal all of this
get real
no one wants any of this
clock is ticking
time is running up
no substance
no heart
the time is ours
to stand up and speak
to unite
there’s to much hate
there’s to much war
it’s time we
started living
i mean that’s
what we are
alive for
we meld dreams into words
we live for tommorow
not settling on today…..

1 Comment

Filed under Collaborations

Bait

I’m not saying you’re easy

But you aint making it hard

The way you act to tease me

Aint getting this dark

I don’t mean to dislodge serenity

But you’re creating your image off a stolen identity

You wonder why eyes are cutting, automatic enmity

Cos your attempts to be indigenous

Fit in is based on ignorance

Yet you do it with all diligence like chameleon shark

Your whole dress and swagger are walks in the park

Swinging your bits to fling yourself at anything dark

You want to call yourself a Naija Girl

Once he fills you with his Naija world

All you want is that boom shack a lack

You want that big black *ock

Back shots giving head

Cos he made your body rock back

You want to call yourself a Yardie girl

Because he filled you with his yardie world

I aint saying you’re an easy target lady

But your chocolate orange tan wont match your mixed race babies

I got no problems with mixing races

But your simple flavours aint for my taste buds

I feel the buzz of a thousand stings

Blinding like the bling of a thousand rings

I see a bait-a-black and I hear a thousand dings

Avoid, Avoid! She’ll learn a thousand things

Playing one big game called arouse the kings

Who dares wins but I won’t play with her

She’ll take the W off woman and put it on Wigg-er

If it wasn’t for the law she’d say she loves her Nigg-er

Its not a case of Beyonce, Blondes or Bigger

It takes more than a figure to get the balance right

But this chick only hooks up with stereotypes

I should call her pasture blaster

Sony or Panasonic

Cos regular folk she looks past but anything hot black she’s on it

She’s a hole sale chav

Super sonic wag wannabe

But Wha Gwaan aint got Wog in it honestly

I aint saying your easy

But take some of the blame

Girls like you but the good ones to shame

If bait-a-black is your only game

What are you giving other than time body and name

See you might chat patois

Understand everyting

Speak to every trib e in their own tongue

but what do you bring?

Where is Your Culture

I’m trying to make you think

See any girl lost in me has to come black from the brink

Till then I’ll sing

I aint saying your easy

But you aint making it hard

The way you try to please me

Makes you a walk in the park

Said I don’t want to call you easy

But you don’t make it hard

Never want to call you easy

But you obviously are

Bait

Leave a comment

Filed under Race, Relationships

B.A.Nning Order

Still by my skin tone I should have a sports team or a ring tone

Yet for years I was skin and bone because I walked to work unable to afford the bus home

But I am not your broke ass negro

When it comes to relations I’ve been alone

Disowned by my own

Made to feel a sell out because I didn’t buy into narrow minded sing-a-longs

I like chocolate vanilla and cinnamon

But I am not your broke ass negro

The walls are speaking I feel them breathing

My life leaves some grieving about underachievement

I’ve had to patch and weave things to survive and feed me

They snipe and lead me like a big cat to the Zambezi

Try to drown me in comparison, liken me to Audley Harrison

But I am not, your broke ass negro

I am not your broke ass negro I am that brother fighting to live

Not your gym class hero, just a lover dying to give

My equities zero but I’m nouveau riche

Just capitalist minds won’t measure me on the populist list

Yet I seek to better me

Some just want a better me, while others try to feather me

Tickle my ego, stick in the needle be infused with my substance as here we go

Get off on my supply and leave me to die,

A reluctant broke ass negro

If I was broke I’d be dead but my heart is still beating

I’ve taken some beating but this egg will be an omelette when it’s done heating

See along the way I’ve had to go to some wild places and gain some flavours

I’ve had to up my skill level, change some behaviours

I’m aware of my flaws I want to be loved for my plus points

Instead of being derided for being an urban myth, a great man that never wasr

Don’t take this as unsubstantiated moans cause

I’ve learned to be patient but I wont tolerate the

Lack of respect for the struggles I face the, position in my race

In my lane I keep the pace

I’m not working at your favourite pizza place

I’m not sitting on my backside with 4 kids by 3 women playing Xbox

I’m not hustling my number none hit at the train station with the immortal question

Yo blood, do you like hip hop

I respect the hustle and I don’t feel a hero

But I’ve got 2 degrees with the strength to keep knocking on the door of a career so don’t you dare label me a broke ass negro

Don’t say it with your eyes, with your heart, with any of your body language

I want to be able to do more than treat myself to a subway sandwich

See I’ve planned my years around career progression

Avoided holidays like science homework then we’ve hit recession

Hit the rocks of stress but never sunk into depression

So to the guys with relatives who say when folk ask what you do – don’t tell them

To the guys that work hard and don’t get the recognition they deserve I hope you have or find someone that makes you happy and helps you be your best

To the guys that regardless of how hard life hits them they get up strengthened

Hear my expression and adopt or lengthen

I am not your broken negro

You need to mend your ego, give it an abortion

I refuse to be a broken man, I strive for bigger portions

For I AM ME

Leave a comment

Filed under Race