Tag Archives: positive

5 day Poetry Challenge – Day 1: E.O.W

I was nominated by another poet via Facebook to post a poem each day for 5 days. This poem could be freshly written or something that hadn’t been posted before. I’ve opted for faith in the poems I’ve had less contact with since they’ve been written.

Fighting in the ring of denial

Boxed in

Boxing truth

Looking for that knockout blow

Jabbing

Moving in white lies

Lines

But I can never avoid the speed of reason

The power of logic comes home to roost on my chin

If truth can set you free

Then my mind is housed in glass doomed to crack and shatter

What is the purpose of fighting truth when revelation is a redeeming knowledge served on a platter for you to add to your arsenal

Wisdom is an acquaintance of knowledge

An acquisition that will not arrive horse drawn.

Wisdom and knowledge are the bridge with railings we deploy to ensure we cross through situations safely

Without these tools we crash into trouble at breakneck speed

Just as your five fruit a day

We need these

To begin

At the end of the weak

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Filed under Random Poetics

Flagged Offside (52/7)

United 92 away

I was just young and black, in gold and green cuffs.
Sent to the wolves, a young cub full of cereal.
I was a serial offender, great pretender
Midfield or defender, I couldn’t remember
I just handed out oranges.
Water boy before The Waterboy
The captain was the manager’s son
A right little Lord Fauntleroy
Bib master, ball boy, cone king
Occasional substitute, should have swapped oranges for another fruit
Dammit I was everything!

Was there something they weren’t telling me?

King of the spelling bee wasn’t helping me
This thing called football required a different type of memory
I could dance better than any white kid raised on chicken, rum and reggae
I had the running man perfect but with a ball?
Ermmm okay…
I was not Steve Staunton or Stan Collymore
Ladies and gentleman in one game I nearly scored
I was young a foolish villa fan
But could I run with a ball?
Could I hit it true like I gave a damn?
Not even Obama would say Yes He Can!

For St Faith and St Laurence I was offside on the touch line
A whole lotta heart not skill was my punch line
When I tried to read the game I was tongue tied
Aston Villa couldn’t inspire pride
When they passed to me they looked petrified
Why couldn’t the clumsy demon be exorcised?
I was too much of a saint to pray abusive parents drank pesticide
Wearing claret on my sleeve I became blue
Praise would be wonder land but cats just asked
Who…are …you?

I am the black Vinnie Jones
A Roy keen to see red
Devil in a new shirt
Not that ugly black red and green striped
Muller branded
Would look better if puked yoghurt was splashed at.

Villa Park will never will be better than my hell on hallowed turf
Old Trafford is more than a theatre
When I watch them I am a dreamer
Scoring Hughes screamers
Weaving the blood of ogres with Ryan’s wing wizardry
My long legs will be David Gower’s bat on a tricky wicket
When that ball comes I’ll know where to stick it
Call me Michael Ricketts and you might hear crickets
I will be a chocolate Alex Ferguson with the master plan
12 years old I will be the man because I am
A United fan

They’ll no longer scold chocolate green and gold.
Paid my dues in the freezing cold
If I tackle you, reach for that 3 digit call
999, see you at City Hospital
Not arrogant just better, yes I’m that bold
I’m a united fan, don’t you know
Trap a ball, head it
Let’s take it slow
One day I might have Tor Andre’s flow
I might score a great goal or swing and slip
Then again…. running for number 10 …
I might just end …in the premiership

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Filed under 52 Week Challenge

Shout Now!

shout now

 

I am now
I am what was, which became what is
The hypotenuse to a multitude of hypotheses
With confidence, my image is my identity
Solar panelled for my length of days
No more relying on karma
I’m calmer collecting time
My chapters are bound, I have arrived
It is my duty to exude purity and passion
A legacy that lasts long
Without it how else am I going to pass on a legacy that lasts long
I am more than a song
I am a catalogue worth more than platinum to be replayed
The seeds I am sewing will need no stitches
Watered by heavenly riches
I am what was promised
I live in promise
I live with promise
I live for the promises
My main meals are honesty and confidence
What is your fruit?
Is knowledge part of your 5 a day?
What is your addiction?
Superstition
If love is like making music
How does your rendition sound
Are you a prism or a prisoner?
How do you shine, now?

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Filed under Just Living

Prismatic Whispers

Prism

I am a prism
Light shines through me
No longer imprisoned
My feet are shod with vision
I am in sight of my destiny
Insight is blessing me
Your power invested is for my profit
Pure and refreshing your energy levitates
Mountains become plains when I see your face
I must get dirty walking in faith
I am love by association
No man is an island so I adopt your nature as native
New chapters are better without pages
Seasons are phases yet I am not phased
I am a prism, a new town, a conurbation
I am a congregation of fruit picked for now
I am the wow
The wonder of will power
Built with a power that cannot be tamed
I am the feature on display
Stories of past pains only curate my path
I am a memory built to last
My heart beats shock waves across my world
Love called me home so as a dove I returned
I am the ark of a covenant between your will and my reflection
My present is an inception that will stand without exception
So I bow in reverence
This inflection is what my self acceptance is meant to be
A testimony of how I live as me
This is my benediction, my prologue to eternity
I burn, I learn, I am the scent of eucalyptus
I breathe, I receive, I am the heir that never recedes
I am me
I am me
I shine from inside
I am

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Filed under Just Living

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

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Filed under Race

Angel

I was randomly sent the song “Angel” by Sarah Mclachlan and told to listen to it – its not my style of music by any stretch but it meant a lot to the person who sent it. Some how it reached into my soul and made me write and so I share its impact with you.

Sometimes I wish I was covered in angel dust
Not the kind that people snort and snuff
The sort that speeds the clock when times get rough
The sort that turns up when I’m needing love
needing a second hand to hold mine when my head spins like time
I can’t see how I’m ticking cos my eyes are full of lines
Folk say I’ve too many stars in my eyes to have a meteoric rise
I’ve given them food for thought but who ate all the pies
Not me
See I’ve brought flavour to a table of struggling ingredients
Cooked it up in a pot of theirs and my experience
The heat sends them delirious they leave feeling fearless
Peerless
Untouchable like a woman on her period
And I’m left peering out, thought I was nearing out
but instead I’m kneeling down praying for heaven to hear me out
Like English weather in November things are dreary now
Burning bad bridges to embers and clearing out
Only seems to make things eerie now
When dark tunnels had direction I could feel them out
Drowning sorrows wont work I can’t beer me out
They will drown me in depths of self mistrust
So sometimes I wish up on angel dust
Not the type that people snort and snuff
I know that when I’m down I’ll need some love
So God sent an Angel

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Filed under Art