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Thursday, 31 May 2012

Ice Cream



It melts in the sun, an ice cream does, so smooth and cold   
For more active on play ground I am, so I need me some ice cream 

A pound (£1) would be too much  to pay Sir, now now Sir 
Just too much Sir, I'm counting my piggy bank coins, on rations Sir

Thus an agreement is reached, a handshake, a handshake Sir  
And I will have, the joy of summer; a handshake indeed  Sir

As soon as the sound of the Ice cream van blows to annouce
Oh from a distance, from a distance, to be heard 

It chimes, it comes and we all run after 
It sings, we jump, and we all go after 

99p for a cone, Ben and Jerry's, it shall be 
Cows and moo, spoons and moon   

99p to quench my thirst and lick my lips 
99p sticky drip on my hand  99p to pay

#I have got an Ice cream 
#I have got an Ice cream 


#Hooray, hurrah
#Hooray 

No Ordinary Love



How heavy is the weight of a pearl 
To stay so low under the waves 


How strong is the hands of  a diamond 
Yet with precious hold, please do not drop it 


How possible can a flesh of an organ to respire 
Be with such emotion's hold, what gives  


I have seen it in person, I  have  
In shape and size, nothing to make of it 


Out on the surgeon's operating table, so ordinary 
With stained blood caught in old veins, so humdrum 


Yet behind rib cage enclosed, I feel a sense 
My heart, my emotions, gives; no ordinary love 


No ordinary love, enchanted and I respire 
To breathe again, to breathe again   

Wednesday, 30 May 2012

Spoken Word: The Final Frontier #Vlog

Easy Roads



Is a bird big enough to escape 
The silk web of the spider, vision entangled  


How big must the bird be 
Does it matter what wing span it bares


What if it is the bee hummingbird 
Against the Goliath tarantula 


With silk traps to engage the hapless 
Is there a chance of an escape for prospect stands 

Does the buffalo always lose out to 
The lion's hunt, on chase 

How low is one to bend one's knees 
To make a jump this high, and glide above 

I would have long been made a King 
But so would a thousand on easy roads 

On easy roads, had signs and signals 
Been chalked on road paths; street lights from start to finish 

This path is uncharted, this walk is new 
This assertion, stands as new grounds to own  
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Tuesday, 29 May 2012

Four A Side;A losing side



This must be the start of summer 
When four a side, with one on the side 
For one of the sides, had one more in hand  


Hold battles on the field 
To resolve an age old conflict 
Of lets play each side; a friendly game 


Keeping in mind, with age count plus one 
One of the sides, doubles the other with age 
Of course, just as it happens with one spare to play  


The end result, without goal line technology 
Stood as a symbol of the outcome met 
Fifteen : Seven, holy, holy cow; was that French 


But as this stands as an age old battle 
Where strangers meet, and choose to battle 
I prescribe another of such events, to redeem lost pride 


Indeed to redeem lost pride 
To have two left feet and age count against 
With barbecue and beer, served on the menu, as excuse 


This must be the start of the summer 
On the park, with strangers encounter and bravado 
Another battle would soon be fought, legs stretch  


To redeem lost pride, to be young again 
With memory books open to be inscribed 
This must be the start of summer 


Monday, 28 May 2012

Catching A Train



Prospects packing journeys bags 
Shoes without laces, "tickets please"  
Baskets without handles, carry top, "head shops" 


I know sometimes, sometimes I know, aware   
The winds, can make a wave with ease 
On the lake, energy in forms, "this is science" 


But what control does one have on chains of reactions 
Ada abracadabra, with magic wands 
I will grab a seat and watch, spectacles 


While one holds a stone, a chain reaction 
With hold back, expecting miracles 
What control do you have on the winds 


Say magic, is your best shot at making 
A circular waves on the lake, as tasked to
Lets pray for the appearance of an insect "leggy landing" 


Stop with your jibba jabba, fool 
Whats with the stone in one's hand, lamenting 
When asked, how do you make a circular wave 


Quick now, the train just arrived on the platform 
Last call, the red flag goes down for the green 
All on board, all on board!!! 



Sunday, 27 May 2012

The Park Rest



Today the sun is out 
My girl is in an African wear 
The park is a stone throw away 


On the bill board is barbecue 
On the menu is friends gather 
Laughter to be served along side 


What sun, sunny Sunday, brings 
Is a days rest from the tracks 
And summer is worshiped this day 

Saturday, 26 May 2012

Joy is a Jump



A dot drop of syrup  
A cure given to weakened heart's hold 
My night nurse, prescribes joy 

Friday, 25 May 2012

The Naked Fish



Awareness holds form firm 
If behind confidence stands 
How far will the bird fly 


Vertigo being made obsolete 
Hanged like work shoes 
No longer required for function 


Have you seen a fish 
Shy of water, looking for a towel 
Saying, I look naked, get me a towel 


Putting a foot in rivers and quickly 
Pulling out with phobia over others with fins 
Don't chicken out now, mate 


I just signed you up
And placed a bet 
With my house on it, 5 to 1


You are to swim, my dear friend  
From Dover to Calais  
And for that, to just be a doodle, diddly-doo 

Thursday, 24 May 2012

Drying Out Paint Strokes



Painted promises 
Wait until the paint dries out 
Before picking up this piece 


I know, no such man  
Who holds holly his work in progress 
And opens up his door, gladly 


To have spectators, swamp in 
As he sets out the revelations 
Of his mind in wonder process 


The critics would have their day
But not now, while I am in the process
With epiphany at my beck and call


Occupied signs on doors
Means an engagement of a kind
Do not disturb, wait until paints do dry out 


At the galleries, of course feel free  
Hanged on white walls, as observers wish 
With no paint palette, and mess on floors  


Clinically clean to help one, zone in 
In to what makes, thee deservedly a critic 
And ponder why a stroke, looks so out of place 


But for now, professor 
Allow paint strokes to dry on canvas 
I am still wearing my beret, with work cloths 

Wednesday, 23 May 2012

A Notion of Satire 3 - 3



#Monkey chop banana 
What is funny about that 
To make a song and laugh out loud 

Ask the politician if he gets offended 
When he is called names; names? how rude 
For what he does best; promises to change the world 

Lets just sweep the rest under the carpet 
Tidy up a bit, give that perception 
Hide our differences and short falls 

They will all be gone soon, farewell 
We can get back to normality as a community 
Just like they do, when we go and visit 

Tradition demands it 
And society does not object 
Perception is enough to live by 


#Monkey chop banana  
What is so funny about that 
To make a song and laugh out loud 

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

A Notion of Satire 2 - 3

#Monkey chop banana 
What is funny about that 
To make a song and laugh out loud 

And in good old England, land of the rain 
Whilst rain pours, a drought is announced 
Like Las Vegas, with hose pipe ban, to be stirctly enforced 

Do not water the plants 
Do not drink from the tap 
But feel free to wash off Picasso's art on the wall 

Do not ask me, what meaning analogue holds 
Would I have stated such observation 
If I was in the know, in baffled conundrums 

Does everything have to have meaning, rationale 
Faith and life would disagree, have faith 
Would the greasely bear, rather be known as Winne  


#Monkey chop banana 
What is so funny about that 
To make a song and laugh out loud 

Monday, 21 May 2012

A Notion of Satire 1 - 3


#Monkey chop banana
What is funny about that
To make a song, and laugh out loud...lol

I will bench press hard, gym membership 
Until I find reason, solid "take a picture"
To hold pose in mid air to salivate, macho

Have you not heard, the joy to have
Winnie the pooh, is coming to town
And with that, all let loose of hold, crazy

Why are bears given a soft profile
With false ownership of honey
While the makers are left on wishful relish

In the back room watching
Pretenders take ovation stands, curtains
In Alaska, an alarm is raised Caution "a bear is in town"

Will a catholic truly drink and eat
In the literal sense, the body and blood of Christ
How barbaric that sounds, in notions to have

But one has to, have faith," spider-man, batman and mermaids"
In the true sense, that it is so, "to the rescue"
To give credence value, in doing so, as faith

#Monkey chop banana
What is so funny about that
To make a song and laugh out loud..lol 

Sunday, 20 May 2012

Clowns and Heroes



Whirlpools and black-holes 
And the end is what, there say  
Is this close in sight, don't clown me 


Hold back, deep breaths, deep breaths 
How long can you stand, deep breaths 
Hold your breath, under water, deep breaths  


Oh and know this; while you are down 
You are the clown, until you make it 
Back up again, you are the clown 


Split seconds, a little longer, on being the clown  
Before the storm is over, hold on, hold on 
How long can you, hold your breath 


I saw a thousand, plus and plus 
Fishes dead in water, water dead clowns, they are 
And asked how come, in possibilities, how come t' are 


Then came the answer unexpected, I never expected 
They drowned in the water, they drowned, they drowned? 
Yep, they drowned; with no oxygen left, they drowned like clowns 


So how long can one, hold his breath 
Under water, forgive the lack of oxygen 
 And the end is what they say, is this close in sight 


Just pass the storm, 
Whirlpools and black-holes 
Together now, lets all just jump in together now 


Slowly, slowly down we go 
The end is this close, this close in sight 
Just this close in sight, to turn a clown into a hero 


To turn a clown into a  hero 

Saturday, 19 May 2012

My Love for Pine



My bedside post is pine 
Waxed clean and smooth to last, antique 
My comfort rest is pine 

Friday, 18 May 2012

In Pursuant of Happiness



I deserve to be happy 
My dear love says 


I want to be truly happy 
My dear love says 


Why oh why oh why 
Does the magic that renders light 


Seem to fade, so small to glow 
So small, so small, so so small 


Have I not yet toiled the earth with all my all 
And nurtured the plants to harvest such magic 


Have I not yet given my sweat 
As rain to fertile this land of cheer 


I deserve to be happy 
My dear love says 


I want to be truly happy 
My dear love says 


At this point 
A hug in cuddle is so so strong 

At this point 
A hug is the richest with warmth to give 

Thursday, 17 May 2012

Play play play



Play, play, play 
Pat my back my shoulder height 
Run and run and I will try and catch you  


Play, play, play 
Swing on swing, swing so high, to the heavens hands  
Like a bird with new wings to fly 


Climb up, step up, the stairs on playgrounds 
And swing down, swing low, my dear 
Play play play 


Walk as fast, walk as slow, walk a moon walk  
Play, play, playful play 
Crawl and jump, hop and skip 


And when we are done, ok we are done now 
On playful grounds  
Oh play, play, play 


And the sun of light,
Goes down for the night 
On play play play 


To rest his eyes 
Say bye bye until tomorrow 
Bye bye, play, play, play

Until tomorrow, tomorrow it be 
When we will wake and play 
And play and play some more 


Parks are a heaven 
To the joy of childhood 
Blissful bliss says play, play, play 

A Parable of Survival



What becomes of the bird's nest 
Sat securely on a dying branch, forest trees  


With leaves dried out and falling off 
With open view like open curtains 


What becomes of the hatch-lings  
That sit in open view tweeting, tweeting 


Calling for mother's attention seeking 
To bring back harvest of a kind 


Spotted through the eye gaze of the eagle 
With a lock on lunch, is this bingo   


And if the tree should die 
Does that mean, the hatch-ling with life 


Granted would follow, with faith 
With faith entwined, a sitting duck 


This is a parable, a conundrum stand 
Holding answers in viewing point 


To ask what relations does 
The bird, the nest and the tree have 


And can this be severed, without cutting
The umbilical chord, of the hatch-ling's life 


What becomes of the birds nest "hatch-ling inside" 
Sat securely on a dying branch 

Wednesday, 16 May 2012

Fruitless Trees



I heard the Aztec had my name 
On sacrificial alters 


My head to roll down juggle steps 
A thousand steps, leaving my neck behind "as if" 


Was this for the god of the sun 
What selfish god would want my end 


Would want so much of my blood dribbling 
To gorge on and be sat with feast of more 


Just so he would offer one good deed 
Is goodness not meant to navigate to virtue of gain 


And can this much blood really 
Set fertile the land, less rain  


But this was as words I heard 
I heard the Aztecs had my name 


And as history is written in notes 
By one side to a party,  preference 


I would never know, who truly 
Had my name on sacrificial alters 


Mine is my neck to keep 
Mine is my honour to have 

And no one will roll my head 
Down a thousand steps as sacrifice to fawn 


In whispers, that killed the blue bird song 
With a thousand cuts, last to roll my head 

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Tuesday, 15 May 2012

The DNA of Success

T


Cyclone of ingenuity, from wondrous minds 
Chaos with beauty, abstract blind 


Miracles are more with believe  hold 
Than can be said of perfection stands 


And so I would worry not, old friend 
The edge is always to be with fright 


Doubter; this is the DNA of innovation, I told you of  
I told you so, when the unexpected becomes a triumph 


And believers gather with praise and pride as affiliates 
A few unknown characters, join in with claps 


Their voices being heard louder than thou 
Hallelujah to thy name, sang by the new converts 


I would not want to have all the answers 
From such characters local, skeptics 


Mystery of existence is the glory of life 
To go against the odds, with honors reward 


So for my alma maters I create thee a believe 
For my mantra I add a line 


Cyclone of ingenuity, from wondrous minds 
Chaos with beauty, abstract blind, I see through  

Monday, 14 May 2012

A Ghanaian Election



Do not hang the dreams of my children 
Do not wrong the lives of the unborn yet 


Who came from the motherland with ambition 
And found resolve to mount progression 


Who found  meaning and riches 
To help his own patch, get ever so green 


Who joined a course a worthy one 
And found a media, a medium voice to be heard 


Who became the naked King, a thousand "yes sir, master"
And thought he was, to be made bigger than Rome 


Who called for the down fall of Rome with political rhetoric 
Burn Rome, burn Rome, and called out toys of ravage 


And toy soldiers gallantly that wanted blindly to follow 
And march to the sound of battles, puppets with arms  


Do not hang the dreams of my children 
Do not wrong the lives of the unborn yet 


We just started seeing the difference  
Rain makes after a long spell of draught 


Do not call for the gods of carnage  
Yee men of copulate and montague 


Waving your flags above that of the kingdom 
You are only as we make you, as a collective 


Do not threaten to hang the dreams of my children 
Do not wrong the lives of the unborn yet 


We as a collective us as a union 
We stand guard at post, alerting your sleep walk 

Sunday, 13 May 2012

An Earth Feast



Who would say the feast laid prayers 
Where we gather to worship nutrition 


Where we sit to worship life 
Where we sit to be endowed 


Bowls full of feast on tables 
Ripe fruits laid on feast of tables 


Gather round and break these feast 
After this day all of earth would be fed 


But who would say the feast laid prayers 
All eyes bestowed on you oh mother of life 


All eyes bestowed on you oh mother of earth 
For who else is worth such deed to anoint 


To provide such harvest again tomorrow 
To feed again, and again tomorrow 

The Beginning Start



In the beginning before green shoots 
This stage of life laid empty 


In the beginning, before what name given 
Had value as known today 


In the beginning, at the beginning 
Before amazon was with trees, this many, loosing now 


In the beginning like Sunday 
Before the Monday start of the week was known 


In the beginning in biblical terms 
There was the word and the word 


The word, well the word was 
What I first had, said as pledge to start with 


To say one-day I would glide the sky  
Before growing feathers this bountiful, full 


In the beginning, all I had 
All I had, was within me to say I can 

Saturday, 12 May 2012

Lovers Mask


Take down the mask worn 
Let me see you, as thou stands  
Take down the hide love 

VULINDLELA-BRENDA FASSIE; A Tribute




Whose voice was it, that awaken the inside of me, day break 
Like a spiritual calling, back to my instinct hear loud 


What words are said, to knock, knock, on my sleepy hearts 
What language like tongues, my heart shares with my head 


It sends me back to my instinct call, make peace not war 
I am basic again, I am sophisticated, I am light as a feather 


I am a reaction to a sound I heard from the south 
Africa, the corner stone, the awakening call, I am glory 


It is that sound, like the birds chatter in the morning to wake 
My mind's rest, and watch the golden glow of the morning sunrise 


The sounds of beats add ons, only serves to accentuate the magic of life 
I can not help, but nod my head, like a wall gecko 


My shoulders, and legs follow, my soul dance 
It is in a trance, I am in a trance, a happy place, a happy place 


Heard someone say, rest in peace, to send shock waves 
You never did tell me, how you got your angel wings  


But before you went, you left me with the magic 
Of sounds, of music, of life, of Africa 



Friday, 11 May 2012

Mutombo da poet X RAY: Guest Blogging



And more from the Poet Mutombo from Ghana,
In his first spoken word album Photosentences
Do patronize and help poetry grow
In the attached link below
http://mutombodapoet.bandcamp.com/
On twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/MutomboDaPoet

Thursday, 10 May 2012

The Oracles's Con



Two men appeared out of nowhere 
A few yards apart 
In the narrow moonlit night 
Seeking tomorrows visions from the oracle  


An old wise man came across them
Asked where they were heading 
He said, he was neighbors with the oracle. 
Sit down you two, let me tell you about life 


Yesterday stands as a solid statue 
Gone with the winds of yesteryear 
Yesterday's time is set in dried out wax 
Yesterday is firm, so solid, so long built 


And so I would not worry 
About yesterday no more 


Yesterday is the dried out mortar 
Firmly set between the walls of time 
Yesterday is my old lottery numbers 
For last week Saturday, I checked it 


And so I would not worry 
About yesterday no more 


The oracle should have been made 
A historian in jobs description, to explain statues 
If only to tell you, what I told her in open sentence 
When my numbers were called out 


And so I would not worry 
About yesterday no more 


Sat in-front of the oracle, listening to her con 
She claims to know about tomorrow 
Yet I know, indeed I know, tomorrow's time 
Is yet to be molded and still in liquid forms 


And so I shall not worry 
About tomorrow no more 


I shall not give the oracle's words
That much sway, of the unknown 
She is fishing, like a con man, with nothing new 
She tells me, of what is solid from yesterday, already known 


And so I shall not worry 
About tomorrow no more 


Tomorrow's time is still in liquid form 
With my hands only, made to mold such wax 
I told you, the oracle is a con 
Do not give her words, that much sway 

And so I shall not worry 
About tomorrow no more 

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Scattered Thought



I have seen the light through countless eyes 
And constantly the color change in my eyes 


It reflects, intentions and emotions I hold  
For green spells out greed, blue is favorite 


And I hold brown out for elegant, cute 
Something special, subtle settle feeling to adore    


Between good and bad, clam and rage 
I am a cacophony of colors, words and emotion 


Each for his own, chaos and exploding, busting out  
Horizon begs the day to have enlightenment  


Like abstract mural, sense to be made of, understood 
Opening up Pandora's box with multiple outcome of colors 


And yet opium seems the obvious choice 
After discovery, to numb down the pain of know 


Dumb down the discovery of awakening 
Before psychosis becomes the threshold reached 


With such beautiful colors he had of thought  
I asked the mad man, what made him so? so mad 
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