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Monday, 31 May 2010

The Traffic Warden's Drama

Okay, I am keeping my cool..
Visualize, "meet me there"
Sends me off to a happy place..

Euphoria, drench thy self, soul with ecstasy..
Deep breaths, deep breaths, to a happy place..
I am nearing my stallion, voyager

Why do you wanna do me like this..
Maintain your composure..

Keep it cool son!..
Deep breaths, deep breaths, 
Remember, deep breaths..

To a happy place..
Seriously , Sir constable..
Such pain to have inflected..

On a brother, such pain of cost..
Deep breaths, deep breaths
To a happy place..

Okay ' F'  a word to a happy place..
Illusions, dilutions, refusing deep breaths..
Cost inflicted still stunned, like a bee sting

Digging holes in my pockets ..
Sends reality on course to my weighted shoulders..
Deep breaths, F a word in response, I say 

A happy place, deep breaths, he said..
This is a thieves master piece..
On daylight broad..

Victim I am,..
Accustomed the right 
To be a raging bull, I am

Austerity and all that, they say 
Likewise my micro world in crisis 
So I tell the traffic warden to feel my pain 

Sorry Sir, appologies Sir
Already in the system,Sir
Processing, proceeding, procedure, sorry Sir..

Pretend, empty empathy on last words..
Where was euphoria..
Before "to a happy place"..

Leaving my pocket with such deep holes 
To a happy place, a happy place 
To a happy place, F a word to a happy place 
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Sunday, 30 May 2010

Painted Canvas

From birth, 
I was born a child 
Unto empty canvas, painted..

Passed through elements 
Of the elementary..
In passage of tic toc..

Invested drill, 
Drill on drill into cervello..
Filling empty rooms of box head..

With affirmation 
Of enlightenment acquired..
In butter trade..

A fee plus my time..
For discovery plus your time..
Fair deal, teach me..

I am to be a farmer,..
Bought seeds to be sawn...
Sawn seeds to rejuvenate ...

That would be my harvest stock..
Painted on canvas, 
Is first coating, first of many..

A taste for cooked variety preferred 
Against raw, like raw meat..
That is from evolution..

Marks the journey 
Here in infant stages..
Some spices needed to give flavor..

Attest gained to be used as fuel..
To drive wagons through muddy fields..
On rocky roads of discovery..

A sailor is made king of  the seas..
But longs to see shorelines 
As  mark of voyage success..

Border lines of  crossing..
Picasso's crayon painting..
Nearing completion on canvas.

From birth I was born a child..
On empty canvas I inscribed..
A story in painting to become a man..

My worth in  standing
Is through what journey 
In passage paths I walk..

And my canvas
Stands with my own portrait  
This is my painted canvas 

Saturday, 29 May 2010

Awaiting Answers

If you ask, where I have been, all these years..
'All these years where have you been'..
I will have to say, “Just around”..
For around is a summation more close ..
Closer to what , rounds, roads, I have walked on by..
Or maybe not..

I will have to look back..
Back through jukebox sets and select..
What songs from parrot vinyls..
For you I choose to play ..
Do you have to know, this, these or that..
Or may be not..

May be  judgement it is, you will cast on me..
Like clouds on confessions, faithful sundays..
May be down it is, you will look on me..
On scorched colours of kettle I hold..
Or maybe not..

This is an opportunity to re-write history..
Change positions of villains to heroes..
I could make the whole thing up..
Tell you tales, from my wildest imaginations..
After all, as it stands, you asked for it..
Or maybe not..

How about not saying anything at all..
I mean what is the point..
Nothing has it, to do with you..
You are being nosy, "you nosy cow"..
Sniffing to prey on my fortunes and strains..
Or maybe not..

Will you tell me yours..
Tell me about your adventures seen..
About magical gardens and time machines..
Or tell me how you lost a limp..
This could be why you asked to know..
My script of tales, to compare notes..
Or maybe not..

I know I will tell you..
Takes of my journey eventually..
But I can’t promise it did be without..
A little bit of cocked up palatable words..
Or may be not..

Not sure, you did ask really to know, 
About my blues, la di la di la 
Truthfully no one does, 
We've all got blues, 
What a bore to hear you say, la di la
Or maybe not..

Or maybe you will get a “Just around”..
For around, is just as good as any in words..
What words, I choose to tell ..
Or may be not.....who knows

Friday, 28 May 2010

Opposite Attraction

From before t' seed broke t' earth’s back..
To look up t' heavens and worship t' sun..
Like a Greek god, on a saturday nights zeal..
Gravity was always going to have its way..

Why is t' innocent drawn to t' notoriety..
What have they got to offer..
If not tribulations and worries..
Ionising metals into rust..
Left mentally exhausted on roller coasters..

Few are with favour, I tell you..
They have got a reputation..
So have their fathers before them..
And there’s before them; 
“Reputation I say ”..

Did they sell their souls..
For t' price of seduction..
With irrational attraction..
Intoxicated are t' lady birds..
Falling into the hands of renegades..

Oh but opposite attracts, ..
As earth does t' sun with need..
And gravity, in grounded, was always going to..
Have a desire for flight..

That was what he was without..
Her pleasing affection ambience..
His food for soul, her warmth in thoughts..
In acknowledgement abundance..
He was t' final jigsaw to her puzzle..

Thursday, 27 May 2010

The Ocean Blue

Fossils turning into coal..
Sunken Victorian ships, beneath sea beds..
Voices of captains and of crew..
No longer heard in dodo's extinct..

What burdens of life and of drama..
Chaos with a flash back..
Of life gone past, just before tilting..
At the very edge of oblivion's breath..

Regrets and sorrow unresolved..
Grievances before voyage made void..
Hunger of t' seas to rest after feed ..
On consumption of souls..

Calmness of waves in melodic feeling ..
Camouflage the drama of before..
Now silence prevails, quite as a mouse..
And the sea is without sin..

Crunnies of corals tasked..
To cover up the covered up..
Like hidden funds in secret compartments..
In empty treasure chest..

The ocean growls at intruders..
Threatening to expose fossils hidden..
Any closer in peeping through locked doors..
And temperaments will be let loose..

This is the price demanded by Poseidon..
Before man was allowed to set foot..
On aqueduct paths of fundness in courtship..
Pandora's box is only with troubled secrets..

Today the ocean is calm..
And heaven and earth shares borders..
Like two love birds holding hands..
On a beach overlooking sunset blue..

Wednesday, 26 May 2010

The Spinning Compass

What are my options?..
Accessing my progression, evaluating steps climbed..
Milestones; how long are my wing span..
Awaiting test results in anticipation..

Positions taken to take shots..
Aiming for the red dot..
On dot, dotted lines of elevation's post..
Postman to deliver targets templates..

And in a blink lost innocence,..
Blurry distortion of reality  
We all lived in grey without know..
Lost on journey's entanglement..

Why do I step in puddles..
Like the jesters muddle..
And wake the night, my brain to rattle..
Lamenting on transgressions puzzle..

The wise was only to be burnt once..
Is it still worth it on empathy so much tears..
When the victim becomes the perpetuator..
In some ways, transforming under moonlight..

Barking with the wolves, you barking mad..
How long should I be blind with visions..
To be turned obsolete by seeing eyes..
Any more makes one a fraud on sight..

On the roads of so much dust with grey 
I am blind, touching walls to walk 
I shake my compass, it stop with direction...
But says not with surety where to turn 

Dead weights are to be thrown off board..
Hangers on to loose grip on cord..
Energy is to be saved from shreds..
For this last mile will be by foot..

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Tuesday, 25 May 2010

The Sun Is Out

Earth yawns from awaken a new day..
Stretched limps to break spider’s web..
That neatly nettled a honey woven comb..
Around, my hydraulic joints..
Dragons of days before sleighed, put to past..
Leaving little resonant in fading memory..

My surrounding has changed..
In caterpillar to butterflies..
Gained some in the process..
Lost some in procedure..
Still hunted by a few old nemesis..

That is just a golden rule..
Even the Sun has its weakness..
And no man has lived a thousand years..
Too much grief that will be to carry..

Satisfaction is relative to greed..
Greedily sometimes the eyes..
Sees more than what the stomach..
Can bare to transform, in magic wands..

Content being in contention..
Rules are there for a reason..
Never that to be an iron cast..
Like I said, even the sun has its weakness..

Strangely the same indulgence..
Is felt yawning to hibernate, to rebirth..
While each serves as a passport, to and fro..
To worlds of drama, it beckons on hold..

I am to live a life, a century if I am lucky..
Then again, that depends on..
What fortunes holds in dice thrown..
I just opened my eyes, rebirth 
And the sun is out, awaken a new day, step one..

Monday, 24 May 2010


Can one feast on grape fruits in joy..
And with knowing, an allergy for citrus..
Have a like for pancakes..
And a distaste for eggs..
A fanatic of Italian, all things leather..
As a tantalizing vegetarian..

What of the banker with debt..
The priest with sin..
Santa claus on treadmill..

The green peace man on Harley Davidson..
A fish who rather be out of water..
A bird with vertigo, fearing flight..

Contradiction on spinning wheels..
Fear in the brave heart..
The squeamish vampire..
A thief with conscience..
What of lovers, with hate..

T' trumpeter told in secrets,..
Not  to whisper tales to another soul ..
It is meant to be her secret, to hold.. 

Give me your word as so, 
In promises made oath to honour 
To a third party, loyalty with a slippery tongue..

All in circles, recycling to be a rebirth of saints..
And he who stands without confusion..
Define explanation of the chaos theory, in abstract..

Sunday, 23 May 2010

Afro King Lusty (Soul Brada)

Afro King Lusty,
Hair so high, highly densely..
The Amazon, trials in a distance..

Trimmed nice and tidy, silky..
Freely it gives, ways to  the combing..
Raking, running, through hairy..

Man on hills, saturday night fever ..
Disco shoes, colourful  suits..
Flower imprint shirt underneath ..

Chains on the nick,
Symbols of self belief..
Manifestation, fist on medallion  worn..

Brush off the shoulders, both sides..
A quick spin of twill, twice..
In mirror's reflection with swager..
A smooth touch of the hairy..

Now  music can be heard in the head..
Movement of the swagger..
Walk steps, stepping perfection synchronised..
With the music heard by the Soul brada..

Now for the stepping..
And a one, and a two..
And a , 1, 2, 1,2 ,1, 2,..

This is just groovy babe..
Just Groovy, havana grove ..
Tequila shot, samba vibes..
I am a Soul Broda!!! ..
Oh yea, yaapa dapa do!!..

Saturday, 22 May 2010

Darda, In loving memory


Darda; Oh darda..
Not much is said of you these days..
By now you are only with fossil..
Beneath the sandy beach grounds..
Keta where  paradise, was once where you lived ...

Palm trees that stood on up high, in compounds..
Oh you were with grace, this for me was paradise..
Come to bear on post, in spots, on earth's domain..
Who if not but you, to be made the keeper of such realm..

I was too young to have memory of face..
Or is it that I have seen too much..
To remember, that far back..
But remember I do, with calmness in my heart..
Like a rain wash on volcanic eruptions..

And when I do and do I do, 
Of course I do of stories told...
About you in-front of the open fire..
I know, so dearly you are missed..
So dearly you are missed 

Sour hearts of many, spread like wild fire..
Desperate to be stopped in it's destruction..
But for who, that task is given to..
You were lost before setting sight..
On many of your grand children and after..

Longing to be awash
With songs, you sang..
You sang 

#Eh ame wu ga,
# eeeeh ame wu ga ..
#Oyo gbetor gbe tor 
#Oyo ga, ga me tor 
#Oyo gbetor,  gbetor  tor naye dey !!!!
#Ame wu ga lo hoooo
#Ame wu ga lo hoooo

And man is greater than wealth..
Than wealth surely 
Man is greater than wealth 

Oh Darda, Darda..
Not much is said of you these days..
By now you are only with fossil..
Beneath the sandy beach grounds..
In your graceful, restful place..

But for your love will be alive forever..
And when love sit in communion..
Your song is sang in memory..
And you become alive again 
In ascension Darda..

Friday, 21 May 2010

What becomes of Greece..

What of  Greece, Athens and of Olympia.. 
Were gods not made of these land..
Philosophers and wiseman..
Alexandria's of Great ..

A millennia and two after in times spoken of 
And still as these names are mentioned..
Something of greatness in subtle tones..
Resonates, in reverberation from the land..

Like thunders echoes from afar..
Cast down by the gods with lighting 
In lion's roar on mountain stand ..
Setting birds off, on flight from trees..

So we know, they are still up there..
The gods, there in the heavens 
The gods are not asleep..
Just resting their eyes..

But they must as well be..
Greece burns as Rome once did..
While Hercules sets more lights..
On burning straws in protest..

And delegated elders 
Leaders of these lands..
Are to define their sense of being 
And what what purpose the stand 

Ceremonial supreme councils of emperors..
Just liking the name, for the name sake..
Like toothless lion in chi wa wa's coat..
Barking out against anarchies frustration..

The evil of man shall burn with the good..
Until no structure of their establishment ..
Stands in pomposity and build will start 
All over again from phoenix ashes..

This time it would be said..
No man shall withhold ..
Fortunes of the collective..
This time it would be different..

But is it not known to the wise...
That man's breath is the very..
Beginning of selfish withhold..
Not the structures burnt in rage..

What becomes of Greece's..
Sculptures, Gods, Philosophers..
Alexandria's, of once great civilisation..
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Thursday, 20 May 2010

Truth Be Told

Pleasantries for just that sake: "Hello, hello"..
Plastic rose flowers in flower beds cherished..
Slapped on mask, make-up to form identities..
Daylights to never see..
The true colours of rainbow..
Different faces of Marilyn Monroe..

Parish, priest, prayers in preaches of love..
Halleluja, yet with a heavy heart in toe..
He holds, he carries, darkness in secrets..
A burden, inside he perishes..

Idol icons wishing they really be true..
As seen in notions and it is an IT girl, icons..
Fame is a drug, of pretence..
Sentenced to act in life as another, in costoues..
In instance, keeping up appearances, persona..

Fantasies; once upon a time, in stories told..
And movies, our cherished indulgence, escape..
Truth is just but a word in poetry, reality..

The fact is never known to be..
What good is that to be..
Fairy tales are the norm to be..
Religion is still unexplained, blurred..

Villains painted as heroes...
In later years, white as snow..
In clear blue day, political science
One is the side only, that writes history..
Won written in chosen words..

Avalanche in ringer, ringer roses..
Plastic roses, hay fever, sneezes, at-issue..
From plastic roses, like a house of cards..
Building houses, cities on titanic plates..
Oblivious to the clear and present carnage..

Love declared, till death do us part, kiss kiss..
Best sign on dotted line, paper heading..
Prenuptial in agreements..
Frienemies to witness..

Pleasantries just for the sake of it..
Crocodile tears cried, on shakespearian acting..
For the death of a distance King;..
The King is dead, who will it be..
Elvis,Michael, The Pop or Caesar's, Kingdom..
Still unknown to me, distance to me..

Knowing a thousand more died..
While we break bread in laughter..
Sweat shops, primarks,..
BP Cheap and cheerful..
Would I want it any other way?...

Truth be told,..
To carry another man's cross..
Is to wear his crown of thorns..
And I in person, I am but just a man,..
With his own weights buckling..

And the good die young..
Or, saved by the bell..
Never to be caught inbetween..
A rock and a hard place..
Moral judgement blurred in question..

And I will ask no one..
No one, but the Kings private servant..
What he really was like,..
All bets off Paddy power to be kept out..
Behind closed doors, what was he like..

And even the strongest in moral..
Once said in doubt, with flesh as costume
"Father, father, why have you forsaken me "..

Pleasantries just for the sake of it..
Lets not you tell me, truly how things are..
When I ask , how things are..

For I am only human..
Indulgence and fantasies..
Are second in nature, an escape..
I was born with the original sin..
Pleasantries are just for the sake of it..

Truth be told,..
I am not saying I am good or bad...
Just caught in between a rock and a hard place..
Truth be told and they both have offers to delight..

Wednesday, 19 May 2010

Paper Weight

Paper weight..
This far, for rest to night..
Take a break, settle in,..
Shoes off, feet up,..
Just take a break..

Moving on..
Stops taken just to..
Adjust the weight..
Moving on..

Rest here, for the weaker ones..
This and that, actions..
Projecting sweats..
Just to cool me off..

In it for the long run, long term..
Run quick, come quick, be quick..
Make it known to the kinsmen..
We getting close to Rome’s gate..

Still home is back..
6,000 miles to add to it..
So just take a break..
Moving on..

Breaks, breaks here..
Just for the weaker ones..
Paper weight, take a break.. 
Moving on,

Choices set  here to be made now ..
On your feet boi, what now 
Will do, can do,what will it be now ..

More to be done now..
Or just take a break..
This far for rest tonight, paper weight 

Tuesday, 18 May 2010

Was She French

There I was captivated
Was she French, or sounded French..
Fresh, breeze that storms my realm..
To have seen her on sight..

But for her eyes, filled with life..
And for her hello, sounding bonjour..
In French I knew a word, or two ..
Oh yea, a word or two in French I knew..

Bonjour, hello-ha, sweet!..
And in Hawaii, I see us two..
This is aftermath, of first encounter..
While I am still stood, on first encounter..

But for her French, I day dream over, captivated..
Bonjour she said, Kethy the name is..
And  said in reply, I said wee, with a blur..
Was that French, I just spoke French!...

Was she French, or made in fragrance..
For in her fragrance, I was drenched over..
Oh la la, was she French!!  ..
There I was,  just lost in translation..

Monday, 17 May 2010

Sunshine Bright In Sunny Days

Even though I don't see t' star lights..
I know I am not far from it..
Screens in sight are clouds..

Just past it, are stars in sunshine..
Hurricanes are only brief..
Paradise still remains long after..

The storm has had it's day on dance floors...
And to Caesar, what is his..
Mine still remains after tax paid..

Drama, gives party stories to tell..
Like do you know, back in the days I walked on..
What defines a man with stripes on his shoulders..

To have you sit up a' recognise this my presences..

Pick me up, is self belief to be acknowledged 
To walk in paths, I choose to explore..

Heroes are not made in dreams..
But it is the  dreamer 
Who chooses to manifest heroes  

A mother's pain threshold, goes up in labour..
Immune systems, gets updated in t' trenches..
Adaptation is t' secrets of evolution, evolving men..

Progression, to the finish lines ..
Are decided and defined by the runners.. 
Jeering and cheering, see past the crowd 

Even though I don't see star light..
Past the clouds in silver lining ..
The sun shines, bright on a sunny day..

Sunday, 16 May 2010

My Three Wishes

If I had but one wish..
Whispered in my ears by the ocean breeze..
To be used before the tied comes in...
I wish for love, oh I loved to sail off..
To new adventures of discovery..

Undiscovered worlds of quirkiness..
Wacky plants and animals unseen yet..
Landscapes hand drawn by mother nature..
Sunset horizon of beauty, only seen in paradise..
Birds with voices choirs from heaven..

If I had but one wish..
Whispered in my ears by the Irish leprechaun..
To be wished upon before the break of dawn...

I wish for wings to fly , to foreign lands..
To talk a language with foreign tongue..
To dress and eat  and dance in tribal ways..
To live a life of  tribal men, "with no tax burden"..

If I had but one wish..
Whispered in my ears by the ladybird..
To be used before the sun goes down..
I did wish, wish best of all..

That when I sit to write in dairy my quest..
Put to poem my adventures in stories..
My memory serves me well, what best..
In treasures, I gave to store in vaults..
If I had but One wish..
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Saturday, 15 May 2010

Free Verse Rhyme

I am just fresh, fresh..
With my beans and pees, bananas..
Just fresh, freshly pressed, squeezed, oranges..
Lime,lemon, lemonade, limelight..

Flash lights, flashy looking..
Puzzling, dazzling display, dressed pressed..
Proceed to impress, pronounced as the best..
Best before time of the known..

Pace makers, setters, trend setters, discoveries..
Ditto, rewind for those that missed..
Missed, rewind, ditto, ditto...
I am just fresh, freshly squeeze..

I am the K . D..
Others , the baptist coming just to announce..
My presences, before me..
And I am the sunlight..
I am too bright..

Googles recommended, needed..
This is the flash light, stage light..
Stage set, for reign of man, in star light..

This is my domain, net gate..
My web page is connected..
Tweet to myspace , my-face..
Face-book, booked up next on stages set..

Stumble to delicious , I like..
The in town talked about..
Said to be the best, that is..
That ever came to be..
I am just fresh, freshly squeezed..
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