Tag Archives: journey

Teenage Dream (4RW)

We were apples in fields of Perry,

Our exercise books were the gallery and shade where we ripened.

Your gallant smile garnished my appetite as my heart galloped.

At a chance glance you stirred the meat and the juices, I couldn’t decide between hunger and thirst.

I would have licked your lips for starters, chewed on your garter.

Every note was a recipe and I wanted you to cook my parsnip

Yet I was just fishing and you were already parsley.

We were like onion and garlic when English and Geography brought us together

 

Fondling the fringe of our fantasies in front of our future was a natural hazard.

Playing with the shape of you was the intention but, maybe I killed us thinking out loud.

Forethought and hindsight were toll roads asking us if we had enough change.

How deep were our pockets? Was I ready for yours in mine?

What’s a perfect 10 when you’re in year 9?

We never….so I guess I’ll never…..never mind

It was real at the time.

 

Maybe you were the first brick in a very long road

Maybe we would have found the lost city of gold

Now you’re living on the other side of a rainbow.

My flag is nowhere to be seen.

You’re the pear in a Perry field because I didn’t have the bottle.

I’m not a whine seller, simply a painter of paths.

Our moments on Fleet Street… thanks.

 

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My Adidas

 

Sometimes your stride pattern is just as important as your shoes. The worn soul of mine meant all I had was my stride. All I had were stops and starts, long presses and short taps, perhaps they were Morse code to the universe, calling out for a new pair.

From the miles I have walked, the only thing I would wish upon anyone is the beauty of acquaintances providing rest from the intense heat.

Having made many strides, in recent times I found a formidable adversary that challenged me to dance down treacle-filled streets with concrete blocks strapped to my feet.

Even with two shoes as two sides to a story, my truth in all of this was that I had to Get Out. Clearings that energised me to walk a certain way were blocked or simply no longer existed.

I’d been here about 14 years ago yet I’d forgotten what the storm felt like. I forgot the scar caused by the lightning, I forgot the days of darkness and how I would have to keep my eyes open, fighting with the same fingertips I was holding onto my sanity with.

Every now and then my eyes would mistake a candle for the sun, yeah… I’d been here before. How many more strides could I get through?

Ask a friend, ask an adversary?

She sipped tea like Miss Piggy proved Kermit was cheating.

Stirred it now and then to keep me in a hopeless place.

My records laid before her showed my performance was ace

12-and-a-half years a slave, I took my calls and beatings.

When Liberty shook her bell I ran away, to freedom

The universe stopped re-healing my shoes and sent me several new pairs. The equilibrium has changed, I drive instead of walk, I have new scenery to take in and understand.

Even though lightning left a deeper scar from the second strike, I know that the path I am on is one that is made for me.

New shoes, my strides, in the words of Nas….”Whose world is this?”

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Filed under Non Poetic Blogs

Sailing

FreeGreatPicture.com-1203-sailing-high-definition-material

The ship has sailed, but the sea lingers

Her fingers still fondle my timbers

The spine kindles like tinder.

Blocks shading the so-called rub of the green, my heart beats turn to cinders

When I look into the future and remember I kiss my present with the question.

Why does the sea linger?

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Filed under Just Living, Relationships

Blooming Marvellous

This week has been an inspiring one, full of themes and quotes that I could build poetry from. My favourite quote has been “Follow the contour of the road”.

The context was a driving lesson where my mind was over-thinking and I took a straight line through a couple of lanes.

Many times we embark on a path only to crash or come to a dead end because we want it to be a straight line. If we want to go into a different room of our house we have to turn a corner at some point.

It’s like life is a colouring book given to us with every colour Crayola could offer, yet we choose one and use it on every page. Not only that, when that colour runs out we try to re-create that colour and feel stressed because the other colours aren’t it. Let your beach scenes be just that!

For me following the contour of the road, like my perception of my writing, acknowledges that which is behind me whilst concentrating on that ahead.

I was moved to anger and sadness having recently learned, through a documentary, that my surname was given by British slave masters in Jamaica. That said, Positive Reflection has sandwiched the joy of my birthday and other accomplishments the last 7 days.

Confession time…I rarely use the word happy in conversations about myself. Perhaps it is a blessing and a curse at times that like my father, I’m a perfectionist at heart. Yet from passing my driving theory test to the surprises from my wife, my side of my family, and even from my team at work have made feel happy. I cried tears of joy a few times on my birthday, having felt a forceful combination of joy and contentment. I was happy.

A brownie cake baked by one of my team.

A brownie cake baked by one of my team.

Maybe you’ve lived your whole life to the fullest using every part of your brain’s capacity, or maybe like me, you’re steadily realising where you’re at and beginning to make it better than it’s ever been.

The words Attitude and Commitment sum up my last 12 months and will be the backbone of the next 12, and the 12 beyond that. I left 32 knowing with an outline of the scenes I want to add colour to throughout my 33rd year.  Perhaps the biggest challenge and change in this part of my life is committing to commitment.

If it helps, write down the new places you’ve been, things you’ve done that you didn’t do before. You might realise very quickly how much you have lived, learned or even want to do!

I love rhythm, find yours and Smile!

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Filed under Just Living, Non Poetic Blogs

The Journey (52/ 2)

With one hand I can count my roots.
What have I left? Who is right?
It seems day’s dressed as night
Isn’t the sun meant to be, The Christ?
Like an atheist crusade in Saudia Arabia, a cloud switched off the light
Where am I going?

If every paths been beaten, by walking them, am I adding to the torture?
These taut virtues taste like battery acid
It burns to speak in tongues in the temple of my thoughts.
So I make melodies from metatarsals and meditations
Striding alongside the reservoir of motivations
I bear my cross along side man made war
To weigh stone cold silences mistaken for peace
My ears swallow to make a sum of my failures
Where am I going?

From the mourning comes englightening
If hades is broad statements, paradise seems narrow minded
I drink the colours from the sky and define me.
Is it called insight when you’re blinded?
I know, If I turn left, I’ll find right again,
I know I’ll find my fight just when I write without aversion
Without purpose, two feats don’t make a legend
It says walk with me

Sure as some steps forward feel like blessings full of curses
Perseverance is more than a purse of verses
Sometimes I want to turn every cyclist into the Icarus of the Trent and Mersey
Disperse them to permanent immersion with a note that says, Today you received mercy
Yet smiles and saluations from strangers dispense these urges
The grass is only greener when my circuits start e-merging
Although I stumble dividing colour because this trip it seems so purple
I AM Going
To work

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Filed under 52 Week Challenge

Odd Future

They said I got a future, odd future gonna kill them all
Advice to ghettoise me, council hall
Playing a game, lacrosse, when they know I can ball
Don’t want to give the drummer some, it ain’t how they roll
All souped to speed past, it’s how they bowl
Call it autumn strike rate, my pedest fall
I’m red and sore, my head is raw
I’m not lion rich, I am bear paw
This eagle saw his eagle claw
Sharpened up his iron to blind them with a metaphor
It was cheesy season, like pizza breeze
Sold him every reason, one word sale of the 7 C’s
So he believes, he found his level,
Etched a sound, got an echo
Stamping ground, found a gecko
Angel in plain clothes, wrestled a devil
Took his head off, wouldn’t let go,
Decapitated, he was animated, selling vision
Restless chicken, he was built for giving
Resurrection, better living
This blessing was, born for stretching
That it did, yet the season stressed him
He got a taste, kept the bottle
American Histoy X’d him, full throttle
Called this apostle Chipotle flavoured Aristotle
Exotic carb the damned falafel too sweet to waffle,
Pigged out on truffles, learned to love the troubles
Hand n’ Heart like the Williams Sisters, Power doubles
Still its my level, not my arena, let me reign, I’ll bring Katrina
I need no pre-nup,
Caretaker climb, I only clean up
Yes they slimed me, Ghostbusters
Me myself and I, family trusts us
To make nice, this odd future
Tie love creation, karma’s suitors
To get it in, tailor Karma Sutra
To Make Life this odd future

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Filed under Just Living

The Couch

The Stronger my Ambition
Longer, harder the Journey is
Soul searching and Journal this
Researching like journalists
Heat Seeker arsenal I’m Sparring and spurning less
Boxing and Jarring yes
Spurring I’m arming best
Practice see there’s no white harte in this lane

Kill it not martyr lest
I barter my art in jest
Gold pounding my heart in chest
Treasure the hearty blessed
Moments so hard to get
Love keeps the heart in check
For wisdom boxed clever preserving this tardy wreck
Just tryin to keep my chart erect
Veering from why I’m elect
See rapping’s just a window pain
My life ain’t mete to burden blame when
will of the weak murders the profane

P.I. Like magnum ice
Want a shot of me pay the price
Toxic bars like Britney vice
Click clacking that’s just my type
Boom Bap’s just how it rides
3 syl a barrel sir name with a faction that factors Christ
Mack 10s grown over night
Celebrity is rolling dice
Pack of cards and poker nights
The house only wins if you control it right

Too many understand with their oversight
Clean off their soap boxes cos flow exposed their hype
Truth is a Thunder Bird, Parker bowling right
Solar rolled insight,
Capitalist phoenix parolled to light
Fallow fields, prodigal coals alike
Modal classic souls like me are sewn to write
Review the menu, choose a thought to bite
A taste to fight, feed a mind aka an appetite
See this skinny man’s living as he flicks out rhymes
I’m just Advised to Inspire, counsellor’s state of mind

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