Tag Archives: workplace

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

Beating my cobbled path

I write with so much emotion my by line is graphical
Poetry biographical
Trying to write in measured tones but it really wont graph at all
Can’t really do the math at all
Some days its a challenge just to live, the bar I can’t grab at all
Can’t raise my chin let alone my game
Moving up and out is my main aim
I switch my target cos I’m being framed
They say reliability is my middle name
Are they insane
Dumb office political games, I observe for my own gain
Got the nerve to not pay in
Buy in to their sayings and yet I wont lie dormant
They try to up my performance, grind me into conformance
I soak up the knowledge let wisdom guide me to what the norm is
Prostituting my self worth just to keep a roof over me
I’m sick of folk saying I’ve got potential it must be trapped in life’s ovaries
I’ll bust a gut and a nut but still I get done over
If I play dumb is that my 4 way clover leaf?
I’m numb to the knowledge thief
Wise to the heart raider
Some times they say “you deserve the best”
my response  is yeah …if you say so
Their truth is pure day glow it fades away at night
I keep on the social radio get a laugh at the dire tripe
Hit them up with a diatribe
Yeah they’ll die a tribe
Kill em with the know and ascend to higher heights
Is it all it in the game or just a simple way of life
For I’m too battle hardened to be treated like a bambino
Sweeter than Campino,
Old school like the beano
Fed up with being treated like a fake field goal, or a spare anchor
So for self sharpening tool the ego has landed
It’ll be humility branded, my path to glory is along the rocks
I hope you love my paradox
You’ll bruise your soul in my shoes if you aren’t blessed with power socks

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Filed under Just Living

Hate The Game

I’m not clicking with their click because my feet got more rhythm
Clicking keeps the game ticking but they don’t clock your vision
Unless your poly ticking your progress is forbidden
Everyone’s a player but the rule is unwritten
Like a failed exam paper your hard work is marked hidden
Playing dim getting bright might get you in position
Hear and deaf see and blind is the house you got to live in
As you find bridge building’s the key to your city
Visibly their style is clean know what I mean
Rolling into work like new upholstery
Knifes in the grey matter they’ll stab you from between their teeth
Make you token monkey when extra juice they need
For the game is endurance yet we yell conspiracy
When we’ve played it to perfection with no medals received
Pot calls kettle black when nothing hits the boil
I try not to play but the machine is well oiled.

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Filed under Just Living