A Fish From The Sky

Fish do fall from rain 

When sea water turns to clouds 

And fairy-tales are true  

The Foolishness of Plato

Would my hill one day dwarf Mount Everest? 

Go high above spiritual Himalaya 

This is not the first time such craze 

Proclamation has been made 

Men have sold their all for dreams  

Time has made fools of men  

Yet the possibility remains until such time 

The possibility remains hanging 

Without a way of casting the wise aside 

To honour greatness and mock stupidity 


Dreams remain hanging, like an apple before fall
The last grain in the hourglass would tell 


To make greatness of men it shall 
Or show how foolish Plato was 

An English Weather Report

This is an English weather report
Brought to you by; the weather man is on strike.

There is a like for a dislike and a dislike for a like
To do with the English weather; a dislike a like


To do, to do, to do, to do, to do
My brolly out, to do, to do, to do; I say


If frustration had its way
To crack a whip, it would without hesitation
Of course it would do, without contemplation
On the backside of the weather's play


Hmm, I guess that would
Just mean more tears on sensitivity

The weather is just too hypersensitive
With tear drop so frequent, call on encore

But for most part, it does not pour
Not like it does with the hyperactive rush

Of the tropics with sentiments so strong
Best advice, be advised; escape from its way


Gently, gently, subtle to do, to do, to do
A like of a dislike and a dislike of a like

O rainy England, to do, to do, to do, to do
What am I to do, to do, with you

Bingo On The Jeremy Kyle Show

Who will claim this ownership and be known

Who will come with basket full of goodies to outdoor

But before claim, who holds in hands apologise
For the disrespect; of owning before given

Who will come with name in mind

And say this is mine, I am here to claim

Who is brave enough to pull his own

His head above the parapet from hearing calls

Gone are the days of rendezvous and delight

Praying the sun goes down and make darkness hello

Your companion a party to the crime as crime

As one of many, uninvited to open house the pleasure

But who will lay claim of the burden

Such weight brings as responsibility holds

Where are the chaps with voices loud

Who once marked spots and claimed territory strong

Are we to DNA test, on Jeremy Kyle before disclosure

Before cowards will announce their names from hide

Who is Bingo, my canine’s baby father to be

Many that barked to celebrate entry

On occasion activity stack jointed, w' troubles of departure

Who is my Bingo's baby father; I want a name

Picture by: Alex Kisilevich

My Bird's Flight

Boarders cutting across webscape are made void

Where commentary is made for  free surf 
But with the tender hooks held of what is known 

After freedom is given, we still opt for safe grounds

My locality is still my locality regardless
But I have been to many foreign lands before

On Google Street maps, oh and few islands dotted

On the ocean breeze as paradise set in Bali
With coconut a’ white sands, I have seen the Caribbean

I have been to Alaska before, as cold as shiver

And with polar bears and Eskimos
I have sat on a sledge to slide, glide the white snow

But more done usual on surfs my surf spots

Are always somewhere nearby on the grid, Bristol
Like Africa the savannah, so familiar in looks to relate
 
With Google, street view eye, to give bird eye view
My home and places I have visited in person before
Are always strangly the places I frequent most

Like a bird with recurrent visits
To places well known, free but with tender hooks held
As familiar of what is known, as safe grounds

Concept and Meaning

Do you think, dogs and cats 
Parrots; pets alike of  "rare" selected fortunate few 

Consider themselves privileged 
Enough to be snobbish with nose high to commoners

To have characters of class and caste  
Against others that walk the roads in day and night 

Neglected, put down  and destroyed by massacre called mercy 
Because no one came to claim as loved nigh free-spirit 

No pet insurance to cover cost 
Of medical bills nor comfy bed rest as warmth 

Relish the chance of  whole grounds built
Estate of will, being left to her advantage feline  

Will she, does she; feel honoured  as an aristocrat
Or made to look stupid, to justify such claim   

Never mind that of humanity mirrored 
Nor those close to the homeless stray 

Concept and meaning 
If I through a coin what end will land to decide fate 

Our worth in salt

So good to be believed in 
But regardless, regardless
As stands we take, here we draw a line

You cannot deny us the essence we hold
And think ill of our dreams so strong
To think you weild in holding hands

Enough dark fate to bring death to growth
On seedlings we keep in the greenhouse nurtured
Watered,  and so dearly, much, much cared for

Do you not know that death, in its full glory
Does not become of all with life
Even after bush fire's rage

How else do you think life evolved
After the death of the dinosaur
And whatever caused such trend

I have come to know of you
Of your acid tongue, observed
I have seen you burn a few, as witness

To know what most you take delight in
To relish in the fall of good men
By your scant scandal;

We sprinkle salt on our door steps
We sprinkle salt to ward off
To uphold our worth in salt

The Mob's Call

The words that thinkers loud in me 
Illusive eureka moment, momentarily with sparkle  

Holds me down like the mob with connections 

Serving a protection racket enforced 

Sending me on a course close to insanity 

For a pen and a paper cannot sit idle 

Long enough without my inscription scribble 

To off load and fill a sense of relief, brief 

Absent realism, escape this unwanted 

In search of immortality as legacy dreamt of 

As trade to give this present day as pay cheque   

As an exchange to a loan from a loan shark 

Wanting pay before returns of investment 

So passion, addiction, obsession 

All come in, to claim a part of the day 

While the rest of  day becomes loose change  
In days dream, the mobs keep calling 
My addiction is relentless 

Supporting Heart's Pull

I hold firm love's heart

Waist tied, foot strong, hands to grip

Ropes to support you

Doodling

If I have to
And I already did do before
I already did to
So I already done to 


I run a mile on walk 
To find my rhythm 
Calories I burn to 


How do I find what words 
To rhyme with 
In chapters of verses 


I am just going to 
Put it down to doodling 
Scrap paper works  of doodling 


I know chaos eventually 
Finds pattern in lines 
To form order, I am just doodling 

Labyrinth; Life's codes

Codes, numbers and mathematical equations 
Symbols, rational and irrational, even and odds 


Clockwise and anti-clockwise, short cuts  
Round a merry go round, round in circles 


Jumping, hanging, singing rhymes 
Crossroads, alley ways and roads stretched straight 


Junctions, traffic, collusion, and near misses 
Close call, escape, void, options, commit  


Foresight, visions, blind, light, darkness 
Occupation, doubt, brave, confidence, fluke  


Losers, winners, avenues of entry 
Choices we make, through the labyrinth paths 


One rule; press your thumb imprint at birth 
To start the game of life; go!

Fastened Parachutes

Dreams alternate realities 
Concept, visions and surrealism  


Altered transpiring translucent sights 
Abstract notions enforcing angles


Last night, I dreamt I jumped in parkour 
From a roof top unto the grounds below 


Then the grounds gave in, caved in  
Such intense physical feeling of being absorbed


I went through the earth solid each layer
Then suddenly through the clouds I appeared 


And there I was, falling from the sky 
With g-force and vertigo so vivid in perception


Bizarre irrational plunging at sensation 
So tonight I have got myself a parachute, fastened 


Try me tonight, with fall or bury 
Try me tonight,  with a parachute fastened I come ready 

A Forrest Gump

I am at a pivot of equilibrium constantly
Rotating through the spins of gravity

On my balancing act, serving as a coil
In the mechanism of my throttle against  "hamper"

And this way, and that way; onward advancing
I am but "pulverizing" through sides wobbly with stride

Constantly establishing a’ reassigning against "taunts" battle
My notion and belief in the chalices of fate

A paradox exercise of undertaking
Brave like a lion and without

While breath bequest me a life to live
I will always be rotating through this spin

To a destination fostered laid to attain
Forrest Gump be my guide

Palm Reading

I opened my palms smooth 
To a palm reader on a foggy day  


Who took lines in my palm 
And cast a rough lenient spell on me 


Why did I open my palms 
To a gypsy palm reader in a tent 


On a day that held 
My birth right of passage 


On a day open doors laid bare 
Lack of closure to the spirit world 


I opened my palms wide 
To a palm reader, who cast a spell on me 


But then she missed a line, my struggle strive 
Faint but relevant, she missed my abundance line 

A Country Called Wales

I lost my way on a hitch hikers guide strolling 
Through the valleys of Wales to Pen castle and beyond 


Where signages change in wording  just past the seven bridge 
None the wiser another country I found myself  roaming 


No ceremonial gestures to announce my arrival 
Into this new world of enigma unknown heritage to be found 


Cymru a word pronounced pre-announced 
As the welsh of natives sang their anthem loud 


Comes Tom Jones, Charlotte Church's angel voice 
And the male voice choir echoing the land 


Miners of coal fire, on the land of the red dragon 
On flags of flames they soar, Wales of Cymru 

My Hero Is My Father

A voice that tingles to awaken the in side of me
Like a spiritual calling, back to my instinct hear


To strive on journeys through forests and hills 
Valleys and deserts, seeking my establishment 


Father the propeller of my drive, one-half of a parent 
My hero of inspiration you provide belief 


My reference call, my ambition sight 
My adoration with thumbs up to say with pride 


"Son  I am proud of you" 
Father I am glad you are 


And to you this day stands 
And to you a Father's day to celebrate 

Wisdom Bestowed

I am born with thought 

Like crow's wisdom of instinct 

Knowledge comes after 

St. Catherine At Court

Clifton will always be of royal
The host of Bristol; oh Britania

Like the Queen's finest
Jewellery crowned on the hill

Oh grace Alexandria of old Greek 
King Costus and Queen Sabinella 

Today your very own sits 
On the hills of Clifton, sighting view 

At assemble with Wills memorial 
If there was a building, to stand as royal, oh hail

Oh saint of Catherine I am in your court 
Do you know your essence; Joan of Arc named you

Office windows and office doors revolving
In comes, out goes; your crusade to venture 

Pitched in Clifton, Britania oh glory St. Catherine  
To be the crown on the hill that stands 

A Miracle In Temple Quay

On the roof top at the No. one square 
Temple Quay where locations are set 
Seeing breath distance from the train station 


Temple Mead; where work men and women 
Gallavant  at a pace set in motion
Only privileged to the week day's hustle 


And just before 0900 and 1730 with starbuck cups
To and fro, to earn their keep 
Hunters in suits and ties, in office blocks 


"Tic, toc, tic, toc, Burry on the hurry, harry" 


Here where nature is altered 
And the trees that grounds, what few stands 
Are positioned and assigned by architecture 


"Placed to stand no higher than prescribed" 


And on the roof top, a miracle at No. one the square 
A life takes form to perfection of nature 
Repeated over the millenia as constant 


Hoovering up above on protection duty 
The seagulls warns off, intruders to alarm
From what miracle of life they nest 


On this busy patch of concrete architecture 
Where man runs in chase of time 
Nature just carries on with miracles, regardless 

A Complex Simple Matter

Subject to an opinion an eye sees 
Subject to the fact that hose pipes lay empty 
And the grass turns brown in protest-station   


Subject to there being a lack of 
Gosh!! aqua pulled a Houdini on grass  
Subject, subject, to the scenario laid 


A conundrum besiege thee 
Wise men gathered "taken" to court 
Called upon to manifest meaning 


As the tap laid open with frustration   
At the end no flow of riches 
Co-meth hose pipe empty to spray 


So what gives; are we to sacrifice again 
To serve the gods, "the gods" 
How many more times, to serve the gods 


Some meat from farms 
Are meant for feed of feast 
At the king's court, so what gives 


So what gives, between farm lands 
And the fountain of river flow 
Why is the hose pipe empty 


On observation the child of young 
Spots a cut in the hose pipe before grass lands 
But the wise of old would not lend ears to hear  


The wise of old, in the king's court, privileged and "cling" 
As such they were all sacrificed to serve the gods

Some meat from farms are meant for feast 

A Shark Attitude

I am like a shark, built like a shark 
If I am not pushing past, dynamic speed  
The norm with vigour and fight of a warrior 


With confidence mixed in fuel of strive 
Like a high breed, built for the course 
Speed lane, salt lake, land records 


To walk gallantly on ropes 
Like a circus performer with tricks 
Believing in his own hype to walk on water 


Then I will slowly fade 
Shadows into procrastination 
Sunk into the depths of despair 


With frustration anchoring 
Heavy to the sea bed, like a debt collector's grip 
Fed on, by the fish vultures of the sea  


I am like a shark 
If I do not swim, I will drown 
With closed gills I will drown, drown I say

The Second Wind

Many a phrase to have known  
When I was a child, as young as a child  
When I was a child, many a phrase I knew 


Many a phrase I knew in notions 
When I was a child, when I was a child 
And they all came in poems I did rhyme to 


On the play ground, jumping hops and singing to 
Many a phrase in poems I knew, I knew 
Like Peter piper, Jack and Jill and pop  goes the weasel 


But as an adult, in adulthood, I learnt of "the second wind" 
Wait and hold back for "the second wind"  
Half way through comes "the second wind" 


It is said that, one has to wait, and hold on  
Go past, close to giving up, reach out 
At the junction of perseverance 


Past the notion of doubtful thought  
Incomes "the second wind", "the second wind"
Sports men and women knows best  of "the second wind"  


As an adult I came to know of "the second wind"
This far gone, here comes "the second wind"  
What gives, what gives, its "the second wind"  

EL - Turn the Lights Down (Official Video)

Okay another Ghanaian artist with a versatility to admire
With a 25 track album to match. Parental advice is given as a
caution, but nothing too explicit to the young adult and the young
at heart.

Enjoy the Music Video and get the album from the link given below
This would be a good buy.
http://elrepgh.bandcamp.com/album/something-else

A Secret Box

Letters and poems kept in an old box 
I have scribbled on paper a dozen times 
A thousand letters and poems I wrote 


Folded in an old box, a thousand words 
Painted on a canvas, inscriptions of you 
Evoking a mask of emotions so strong 


With some addressed, letters I wrote 
A thousand others with a name in mind 
With some posted, yet never delivered 

With some un-addressed a thousand 
Still always with a name in mind 
Lost in transit sometime before dawn 


Under my bed post, on old emotions recurring 
I have written a thousand poems, in a secret box 
A thousand love letters, all addressed to you 

But I am forbidden to reach out to you 
Forbidden to ever mention thy name 
For my love has been rejected by you 

And all the letters I once sent out 
Have all been marked return to sender 
Stamped with a seal of rejected post 

I have an old box a secret old box 
With letters and poems I wrote to you 
I have under my bed a secret old box 

Ordinary life

My life is simple

I live, breathe, I love, nature

So ordinary 

River Crossing

Since the world is with mystery 
And a whole lot in happening 
Is never explained with answers known 


Left to superstition to draw lines 
Of assumed analogy, conclusion, regardless  
Something to fit, a square in a round hole, "shapes" 


A wise man is seen crossing a river 
At its lowest tide with a step over, that simple 
He comes back to find the river on high tide, "opened taps"  


Would he swim, canoe, bridge, raft; or say 
The gods have refused me passage 
This river is not to be crossed, until the gods give way 


Food for thought, exploring concepts   
To digesting minds, pouring libations 
Do not anger the gods, "dear friend" 

What is Photoshop

Pictures say a thousand words 
But always referenced to a state 
The author of the pix, like; history, fiction 


To know his ideological stand 
Before taking pixels as gospel fact 
Seen with my own eyes, as evidence  


In war and peace as war be 
And stories they tell in history books 
As facts on the ground, to swear by it  


Photoshop is best at infidelity 
This fiddling, tweaking away with 
Touch to perfection's vanity 


Gullible, gullible, please 
Be advised, readily, gallantry 
Walk as follower to the cause 


And the subject, and the subject 
Well the subject, is rather with a pose 
Light, camera, action, retake