Poetic Proportions

Modern Melancholy

Thu, 09 May 2013 17:47:05 +0100

This is the story of what happened when,

Young women and men, created a new art-form called

Anti-comedy: the modern melancholy.

They describe their artistic experiment as the following…

“Where the truth is said, to make people feel sad,

Because we believe everyone takes things too ‘lightly’ in society,

Sometimes we all need to get together and have a good cry”

This is an extract from their opening piece.

“YOUR JUSTIFICATION CAN’T TIE ITS LACES.

OUR ‘DIVERSITY’ IGNORES ITS MANY FACES.

OUR RAT RACES, HAVE NO BASIS.

and love is losing in many places”

Reflections

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 02:03:27 +0000

I am yet to find an ungodly chord,

Yet I have heard many an ungodly song.

Mon Dieu! Pourquoi? Je Sais, OK.

Sat, 02 Feb 2013 23:54:09 +0000

Mon Dieu!

Pourquoi?

Je Sais,

OK.

outside

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 23:56:32 +0000

Green leaves in an ocean of blue.

Yellow sun, turns gold this afternoon.

Proof of life as green as grass.

As sure as the sun will come again soon.

Post-Bondernism

Fri, 04 Jan 2013 19:16:39 +0000

James bond has done this before,

I know it, he knows it more.

@generationtwitter

Fri, 04 Jan 2013 19:13:46 +0000

Most of our heroes today press buttons… And that’s just the reality of it.

WordJar’s New Anthology ‘City Shades’ -...

Sun, 16 Dec 2012 19:18:50 +0000

WordJar’s New Anthology ‘City Shades’ - Catching London from different points of view…

Read my ‘London Eye’ perspective (20 years in the making) and other fanatastic poetic talent!

http://www.scribd.com/doc/116560030/City-Shades

a victory for racism

Fri, 12 Oct 2012 13:10:27 +0100

Forever marinating what I really want to say.

You sat and waited for what you really wanted to hear.

And in the process, energy was released in the form of a stillborn understanding.

Which hatched, leaked and now lies deceased.

It’s over.

We ran past each other, missed the baton completely but it’s not my fault… of course.

And I’m not turning back…………….. no way!

But on clarifying the objective of the game. Who’s playing?

Who made the rules anyway?

And who goes home crying for being misunderstood?

Stick that up your race relations.

Up your diplomatic disposition.

And your pretentious mistake that I was trying to hand you the baton in the first place.

A prophet's expectations

Sat, 01 Sep 2012 23:19:32 +0100

One who must always give the people time, but never wait for the people. This is where the prophet lives. This is why the prophet has no place to lay his head.

Inspirational figures still exist today

Thu, 16 Aug 2012 23:00:00 +0100

As a young person, I think it’s important to name the inspirational figures that have contributed towards your intellectual and spiritual growth.

Here are a few of mine who put their very natures on show to the world…

Cornel West - Afro-American Intellectual Extraordinaire

Rory Stewart - Current British MP (Yes, there still are good MPs!)

Parker J Palmer - Like your Grandad, full of wise words. Speaks about teaching and paradox

Tony Benn - Perhaps the most prophetic voice in British Democracy Ever?

Shane Claiborne - One of few voices who speaks out against christian complacency

Bell Hooks - Her soulful inquisitions into Black Culture changes hearts and minds

Mason Gaffney - The most lucid writing style ever. Also the most insightful economist I have ever come across.

Jim Rohn - The Late Great. His fusion of business and philosophy is unparalleled.

Tony Campolo - You gotta love him.

If the list hasn’t grown in the next 2 years, I’ve wasted them. What are you waiting for? youtube and google these people and see what I’m talking about!

the oldest trick

Wed, 15 Aug 2012 00:38:40 +0100

I self-replicate voraciously.

And I am a near perfect replacement for self-esteem, in the eyes of human beings who are all too human.

I am the pre-occupation of societies most powerful, and I trickle down.

I am the missing resource to the world’s problem. I am at the heart of the world’s problem.

I recreate the inner child in the eyes of grown women and men.

I am practicality embodied to the modern world. No spirituality isn’t the concern at all.

For I am the great mobiliser of men. And the fear which lies in the hearts of those who will not mobilise for me.

I am the most convincing song ever to be sung.

Aren’t I needed to free people from the bondage of each other?

From your sister and your brother?

I blur the lines of good and evil everyday, it’s so much fun!

And so, I give you full power to exploit me, every last drop of my possibility.

I have commissioned you to master me. Now Compete.

Inspired by Amel Bent's song 'J'ai vingt ans'

Tue, 14 Aug 2012 02:33:37 +0100

You’re young.

You have enemies to name, and destroy.

You have time to find the plot, lose it, find it again, and then still do something about it.

You have happiness to look for, money to earn and burn, places to see and people to meet.

You can create lists of what would be your ideal misses or mister.

You can change your music taste, your favourite team, your circle of friends, your spiritual status and nobody will call you strange, schizophrenic or in a mid-life crisis.

For you who are young, a lack of insight is cute.

For you are young, your spirit has not yet solidified,

It hasn’t become too accustomed to the comfort of your biases. You have the energy to move the furniture.

Your history hasn’t accumulated the pain of stagnation, regret and rejection of which one could write an autobiography, or a case study in how not to live one’s life. There is still hope.

You’re young, you can afford to put off words like pensioner, retirement, elderly, dementia, old, arthritis, vulnerability, old.

You are young, but not young enough not be born again in the wisdom and words of the elders.

this boy

Fri, 13 Jul 2012 21:02:00 +0100

Take off the era cap and what do you have?

A hoody, with a swaggerous bravado, with sexist/self-destructing tendencies, thoroughly in-equipped to learn or love or live, and now he has an unbrushed head.

Take off the hoody and what do you have?

A boy who has become one with life’s cold breeze. Jealous materialistic eyes which scheme of GBH, this year’s riots, and the ‘top ten ways to catch-a-case’.

Take off the silver chain and what do you have?

A young black male who thinks, sleeps and dreams in rap. Whose feet are destined for the street, for prison, for unemployment, for the fulfilment of racist stereotypes which society oh so implicitly implies.

Take off your pretentious, condemning reading lenses of capitalist/racist/sexist offence

See but this boy oppressed by the weight of the world’s bias, nihilism, exclusion and hate.

You intellectually pick him apart for your recreation, but little do you know, he will be your salvation.

Death of the Patriarch

Fri, 13 Jul 2012 00:58:00 +0100

You’ve stormed the castle, to get the girl.

But there will be no way out, and you know full well.

And so, will greater reason prevail?

No, the damsel takes her soul to hell.

Rap at it's best

Mon, 09 Jul 2012 23:44:00 +0100

I thought for once I’d post not a poem but a List of Rap Music which I feel best fuses poetic excellence with beats which could, if they wanted to, tell the whole story on their own.

In no specific order…

Through the Wire - Kanye West

Kick Push - Lupe Fiasco

Skepticold - Braille

I Just Wanna Come Home - Theory Hazit

Council Estate of Mind - Skinnyman

Nas Is Like - Nas

Press On - High Society Collective

Now A Daze - Shad

One Shot - Japhia Life

Breakdown - J Cole

shame upon you

Wed, 27 Jun 2012 23:11:54 +0100

…Fake laughter comes with a bitter aftertaste

Have all my years of maturity gone to waste?

A child wouldn’t have laughed for goodness sake.

A child, wouldn’t of laughed.

What are the wisest words my heart can find?

I’d gladly take a child’s foolishness over mine.

Preferably without words

Wed, 27 Jun 2012 23:00:59 +0100

‘Preferably without words’

Said James the conveyancer, upon visiting his best friend in the cancer ward,

asking him how he was feeling.

‘Preferably without words’

Said Janice when she forced her son to apologise for stealing

the twenty pound note she had hidden for emergencies.

‘Preferably without words’

Said the numerically minded Lance Garos, head of sales,

when he asked Philip Reese to justify his poor performance this quarter.

‘Preferably without words’

Said Mrs. Tijeros, the art teacher when she told her class to express how exactly

their portraits convey the language of love.

‘Preferably without words’

Said Dale the Telepath, as he began the show, now I want you to tell me what you’re thinking

about cooking this evening.

‘Preferably without words’

Said Master Kirogachi, the monk, upon responding to the

middle-aged man who had just left the city, who exclaimed,

how am I supposed to live in silence everyday?

‘Preferably without words’ is how the poet finds their voice

and then preferably without words is how a poets’ words should speak to us.

Preferably without words…

Said my spirit in the night as I begged the lord to reveal to me my destiny

for I was truly starting to despise the discourse of everyday life.

Ostenation

Fri, 15 Jun 2012 02:56:00 +0100

Before, I used to kill the insects which

were so foolish enough

to be visible in my presence.

But now I let them fly,

I let them crawl,

I let them wander in their

indecisive circles,

and other simpleton ways of life.

I let them live.

When I was younger, I could have shown that ant, that fly, (not that spider), exactly what I am capable of.

And I would feel better for it.

But now I let them live (except the spiders),

and I feel mature and wise

and do you know what?

This happiness follows through.

And I feel like more than I was before.

- It would seem therefore that adults have their different kicks.

no zero

Mon, 21 May 2012 05:39:00 +0100

You’ve turned me around and said

our lives don’t balance out, like the accountant’s balance sheet

And then you ask me –

Am I alright with that?

There will be no flying balancing-weight to save the day

Because this is not a show;

people die on an exalted high, or a depressing low, everyday.

I agree - for the most part.

Look at my life; Far too many liabilities. Not enough assets.

A classic example of the self-induced good guy blues.

Then if a life of negative equity wasn’t enough, we pass away as euphemistically as the phrase.

But my friend, what if life is actually measured by a different scale, with no zero?

A scale so obvious it’s practically invisible.

So simple it’s actually complicated.

So innocent it would be treated as suspect.

So wise it’s delegated to old age.

Human beings do have a knack for missing the point…

…Yeah, we’re not really talking about accounting anymore, are we?

within reason

Fri, 18 May 2012 00:59:00 +0100

My happiness is tempered by knowledge.

Which is perfectly okay, to be honest.

The prescence of my joy however,

Will not change with the intellectual weather.