Tag Archives: #poem #poems #poet #poetry #lgbt

The Far Pavilions

22 Mar

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With a heavy heart I wandered the streets

felt the pain of travel upon my feet
Absorbed the culture of an unknown beach
Crossed into lanes for treasures out of reach
Golden globes from India
I had to eat
Sat in the Pavilions
Under the mid day heat
Walked along the Pier
No one did I greet
Took myself along the promenade
My thoughts did I keep
Sat in a café drank tea
Wanted to weep
Heard jazz music
My soul did not leap
Browsed by bars
Did not take a seat
Welcomed in a church
Heard 99 words in a beat
Invited to dinner
C’est Magnifique
In a strangers’ home
Did we speak

Without a blessing
I fell asleep

 

 

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A broken history of my future

13 Feb

I acknowledge the past but I am my future
I can’t change the past as I am for the here & now and have to move forward
The pains of my parents during the Partition Years I cannot partake
the colour of colonialism I cannot shake
For I was not there
How dare I impress the burdens of the past
referencing history like shards of glass
picking up pieces for my own endless farce

Playing on words like it’s my history
I wasn’t even there, is a mystery
how monoculture reigns, re-think the legacy
Unlock the slaves, freedom is a fallacy
Remove the flags, swim through the Indus
Declasse we are, no need to remind us
My past is my memory, I cannot let go
The wars of the world, ebb and flow
I acknowledge the past but I am my future
Regardless of the story, into dust we will grow

Don’t sabotage the past for your own personal glory

BEAUTY IN THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS

30 Jan

There is beauty in the kindness of strangers
Defending the weak from foul mouthed words
The vulnerable seeking support against abusive tirade
Black woman scorned and brown mate sworn at just for the colour of skin

There is beauty in the
Kindness of strangers
A bus full of “ethnicity”
Made to feel insecure by the majority
Unspoken words vocalised by a drunken minority
Anger fuelled by a dichotomy
Tissues at the ready
Snot smeared on the seat next to an ugly personality
Words of hate from lips of a woman who sounds like she’d had a lobotomy

Spitting sounds please call the psychiatry
Barriers created because there’s no chemistry
Skinny white woman shouts don’t look at me!
Black Swan responds don’t bother me
Brown English man in Green suit says no more bigotry

Hate filled words pollute the air with no dignity
Crash claimed hearts with vulgarity
Man came to part with some words of clarity
Took down the drunk with his love for community
Mate call the police for your sanity
Strange kind words spoke for humanity.

There is kindness in the beauty of strangers.

You’ll never find my face

5 Jan

You’ll never find my face on the cover of a magazine,
Rupert Murdoch and magnates are not keen
On portraying people of colour
With high self esteem
Rather show faces
Looking scarred and mean
“Look at the face of the second class race”
Never the achievements of black/brown face.

You’ll never find my face on the mainstream channel
Presenting the news or the Oscars panel
Winning an award
Like it’s a soiled white flannel
Marking the territory like a scared dog in its kennel
My scent might contaminate the all-white Chanel

You’ll never find my face representing LGBT
The gay community doesn’t redefine me
People of Colour or B.A.M.E
Dodging the bullets
Headlines fuel it
Prejudiced wars ready to buy it
Spreading lies and lies like bullshit

You’ll never find my face on a large billboard
Filling the screen like a media whore
Communities treated like an oozing sore
Stamped all over, spit at your door
A few black faces in mainly white spaces
Small minded opinions horrified
“Lessen the monoculture!” we cried
Let’s celebrate media diversified.

We Are All Human

December Rain

18 Dec

December Rain

The green cavalcade worms it way through dry, arid sands before it retreats,
White sirens call for help
Whilst white helmets dip their hands in warm decay
Lift out souls day to day

A city once thriving
A population once living
A story hard to believe in
A young man hides in a room
With nervous voice at ready
Tells the world
The rain is heavy

December rain.

Choke back the tears
Don’t realise the fears
He seems like the walking dead
He keeps his sanity
On the brink of insanity
He loosens his tongue instead.

He describes the conditions
The loss of medication
The need for salvation
The loneliness and isolation
He focuses on the living
Like rats in a dark room
His words are full of pain
As he tries to ignore the rain

December rain.

He names the West for lack of trying
A sad regime keeps fighting the dying
Hearing voices he ignores the calling
The rain non stop, continues falling

December rain

He speaks from a cold empty space
Describes his world as a dark, dark waste
Saliva on his lips like honey would taste
As his eyes wide open says
There is no haste

For the December rain
Keeps burning down
Hot like fire
It’s a burning hell
Freedom for the fighters
Rebellious, pray tell
Dropped by the President
The rain has a shell.

Syria.

The concept of “other” is foreign to me

8 Dec

The whole concept of “other” is foreign to me.
The alienation and denigration of immigration
And migration, people needing an education, instead of feeling hyper ventilation at the mention of Islam,

Mankind not wanting to give alms, 
would rather bow down to the Royal Ma’am
Passing by the homeless beggar man
The refugee crisis and the burkha ban
Only British Values can save the world
“Yes, We can!”
Tax evasion on global capitalisation,
Corporations need a referendum
Trump the man, is a Billionaire Bum
Exiles and Castros
Francos and francophiles
Patriotic alt-right
Dim the world
Shut the light.

Christ the Lord
Shiva the God
AllahAkbar
Guru Granth Sahib
Torah! Torah! Torah!

Rastafari
Babylonian Babes
Beckon the blighted
Feed thy soul
Create a New World
Humankind must be United.

Drop The Facade

27 Feb

Melancholia shrouds my soul

Life stormy on the brink of a hell hole

fingers burning with black flames

heavy heart laden with pain

tears dripping amulets of blood

life ebbing a drought not floods

cases of anarchy explode in my brain

counting on Two, keeping me sane

a life faltering, falling free

enclosed in a den of devilish men

Take a knife and slice the cord

shabby4