Tag Archives: myself

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

Embrace

Embrace Life

Time is the oxygen we allow our bleeding to breathe in
So I embrace the pain of another to prepare them for healing
When cut to the core with energy re ceded
Fruits of laboured pain I eat in exchange for the favour of grace
And
Salvation from the sins of the past that maim the present
Derailing the tensions that prevail as the lessons that only seek to lessen
So knowing the power to impeach and set precedents needs more than rhetorical tenements delivered with eloquence
I say listen to the memories given reverence and residence in your edifice
Evict your fear of change like a rent dodging resident, without sentiment
Embrace hope like a new pregnancy in spite of miscarrying triplets
You can only drink what you allow to flow through your inlet
(And) If not filtered you falter, your gaze on destiny alters
Until you’re feeling forced to drive on the wheels of misfortune
Floundering in the forest of the forlon, war torn by the dim light

(Yet) my in sight drinks from glasses doubled in clarity.
So every head shot is a meteoric light telling dystopia not to marry me
Utopia is a pharisee until we conclude lamentations
Hesitation is not self preservation until But They, is deleted from our recitation
For convenient flagellation conceals contamination
Some who say time is a healer refuse to watch what they’re saying
With the mind they’re paying, as games they’re playing
Life’s not a lottery. it’s just a wall for painting
Pain may be your undercoat so decorate with your celebration
The why and how wont add up so detonate your decimation
Replace your But They’s with For I,
Forgiveness, for love, for health for strength
I embrace pain like a bad disciple.
Betraying it with the priceless knowledge that it is no love rival.
To be made wise with experience means pain is a chapter in your bible
That many misinterpret and create a religion like disaster was their idol
You’re a lamb to the slaughter if you buy bull
Death precedents canot give life to your revival
Stealing time to cry is not a crime if you value freedom through peace of mind at all.
So open your chamber of secrets and empty your back full of knives
Knowing your scars are part of the painting
Don’t dam the flow claiming your assets will be liquidated
I say embrace pain like a trigger and squeeze it until the ammunition is asphixiated
From soul to soul I hope to mitigate your evanesence
Embracing your pain and killing it, to make you great through resurrection
See the politics of living dictate survival’s a general election
Some histories we repeat because we wont scatch the record

We’d rather dance to our beatings till we’re prey without ceasing
Ignoring the truth that our spirits fruits bare in season
I call it a faith crime when we pray without seizing
When taking chances to count our blessings, to the creator is pleasing
You can only claim the blessing of an heir if you’re breathing
Need feeding? Believe him!
Life words like seeds from the other trees in Eden,
Will you not eat them or will you ask… What would heathens do?
A question rarely tended, if ever thought of.
We drink the lies of many authors like they were last orders.
Picturing Jesus drowning his sorrows with a glass full of water
Instead of walking through the tempest like Kate’s pen game was his daughter
Ignoring the needs of our heart, doing what folk think we ought to
Being heady and high minded will not make you highly thought of.
Your embrace of pain can turn a sniper to sawn off
So make a decision before you tell me your story
If it’s gory to gory and you’re the bullet of this one shot
Do you know your tools can enrich the plot
Your intimacy can harvest the better ending
So are you a gardener preparing for new seasons
Or are you just pre tending
With your embrace

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Filed under Just Living

The longest kiss

We embraced each day like a bohemian sunset kissing white sands for the last time

Kissing like plans and time,

Explicitly entwined like lovers covered in honey

stuck in the buzz

In our moment we are, we were, we simply be

Still like the breeze before and after the storm

Pregnant with a future yet to be born yet we were fully formed

Feeling like casualties of a pacifists war we… tore up blue prints and scripts to be enlisted

See true Happiness is continually fought for never gifted

Sojourners drifted into our paths like floating pieces of wood to renew hope

When my lust is pure the only loved one I’ll grope for will be

My life

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Rebirth Control

My inspiration for my 7th of 30 poems comes from a Facebook status on the 16th of December posted by a talented musician friend of mine known as “Silverchet”. Follow @silverchet on twitter.

“I Dont Wanna Hear How 2010 is Gonna Be “Your Year”, Or How 2010 is A “Time for Change”, I Been Hearing That Year After Year, So Quit Procrastonating and do what you Gotta do…….I speak to myself as I do you all”

16 December at 18:19 ·

 

Rebirth control

At the end of every year we engage in a ritual of giving and receiving presents, to some we give our presence, to others we scribe from a sample of our essence.

Taking time to recharge, a new year will it bring a new start, a new chapter new lessons?

Will we have counted our blessings, paused for reflection, spotted our contradictions and created new traditions?

Halted attrition of self ignition

Or will we simply continue unpause the game from the X box

Continue where we left off

Revive the consternation instead of tidying our desktop

Let our system hang and our heads drop

Beheaded because we’re big headed

Talk about change yet we’re dreadlocked

Locked in dread because change means the whole head

We’ve got to brain wash and condition in order to sew fruition

We talk about chasing the dream not the competition

Every new year is a new you year until problems hit then, those resolutions…

Those Resolutions

Those revelations that made you make statements

How you knew they were pain staking but resolute enough

Yeah … those solutions, improvements…those resolutions that had so you so focussed you had me thinking change was embedded in your follicles

Only for 6 months later change is soluble like aspirin

Did you think change was a sprint?

Did you think  change would be a Usain of the bolt type change

Sweep you off your feet and leave you with no time to breathe type change

Where is the new you I say?

It takes pain to move pain because something has to die before you come back to life

Pre mortem dissection, microscopic detection for signs of regression

Grown folk need a soul session not a 1 month campaign at every month 11

Yelling to the world from midnight of the 31st I begin my resurrection

Obama’s slogan for election

I am who I choose to be and when I start’s change in me it is for my refreshment

It’s a present to my presence, my essence, my gain

Drink to a year of pain to locate the step up, celebrate finding it, then put up, shut up or full on step up.

Wake up, Get Up for the shooting range, take your best shot at life and work towards your main aim

For when your breath is short and your soul’s screaming to get away

You better be elected, there’ll be no more campaign, no more rebirth

Your life’s been your day to prove your worth

But how will you handle your 31st?

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Filed under Random Poetics