The Farmer and The Hunter Analogy

The hunter and the farmer 
An analogy that serves 
To establish a notion of 
Temporary and permanent stands 

The energy that holds 
A fire in perpetual stay 
Cannot afford to burn as fast 
With such intensity 

That radiates a heightened sense
Of excitement at high peak 
It is only the gods that have that ability 
Apollo Helios as the sun god 

Nothing that good can hold form 
That long, a golden rule 
To be observed 
It stands, it stays 

Casanova would have failed 
Granted, in every relationship 
Past the excitement period, stages 
Running out t' windows has become his norm 

The hunter losses his essence 
Once the meat has all been eaten 
He has to go back hunting 
To remain relevant 

So tell me why should the farmer 
Worry about the hunter 
He's time is always limited 
The farmer and the hunter an analogy 

After all it is the start of farming 
That civilisation of man is drawn on 
It is said 

My Family Tree

I am a product of my family tree 
Long from the roots, but yet so near  

With branches that spread 
And swings in the winds  

I am warm and friendly 
I am as cold as ice, dead men have humour  

A complex conundrum 
A joy to the shrink when I visit 

Then he is left confused 
After my visit, needing to unthink 

I am rigid, hard as a bone I would not bend 
I am soft, squishy as a sponge 

I am free spirited, free as a bird 
Nothing you say would bother me 

I am so self conscious 
Looking from mirrors reflection seeing blemish 

Don't blame me 
I am a product of my family tree 

The wind blows my branches 
And I swing with the winds 

A Valentine's Day Msg

Cards and twelve roses, a wine in hand  

Candle lights setting, the valentine mood 
Something red, I like something red 
Details, details, something red babes

Words by the lover who turns into a poet.  
Kiss me, kiss me, darling kiss me

Your beauty, your eyes 
Darling kiss me

I adore your presence 
The aroma, of your scent  
Kiss me, kiss me, darling kiss me

I love you this much  

Woo, woo, arooo 

I love you this much
Darling kiss me  
Woo ooo

The contract

This is t' contract of relations, relative to knowing 
I have come to the realisation, to the know 
That this here, is a contract of negotiation, on balance  


Where goal posts are never 
Positioned on permanent spots 
And the sway of the bowl of fulfilment  


That which carries content of liquid formations 
Is kept at a constant swing to maintain balance 
For solids are made brittle in endurance of bonds  


Do not look out to be favoured by events 
Not always,  at all times in having a way with 
This is t' conditions of grounds, made ready to build on 


As intended based on the subject of negotiations
Compromises made prominent to attention on balance 
And courtship and friendship is to hold this as basic 


I have come to realise, in part, in ways 
That in forms in bonds formed, no one is to take spoils
Winning all every-time on roulette tables 


Not if for the enrichment wished for 
Is to be graced with the fortitude of longevity 
And thus, not a flash in the pan, upon pacts signed


This is a contract of understanding  
On what relationship's balance are  to be formed on 
Say I do, say I, to roll up one's sleeves and engage


This is the contract of relations 
I have come to the realization, on centered mind 
That this here, is a contract of negotiation 

Taking stands

Is it, far from me to say, what it is to say 
Am I not to hold, my own to assert 
When the need arise, to establish contentions  


And voice displeasure, on conditions 
Would you not want to know 
And in that sense, that way 


Avoid recourse of discourse  
Where broken vases can  never truly 
Be put together again, on mantelpiece 


It would fool no eye 
Not even that of the blind 
It would fool no eye 


Who would pretence be to please 
Desolate with sieving  anger, insanity of enragement 
Wretchedness of truth with identity 


Left hollow to discard wet currency 
Who would pretence be to please 
Holding wet currency to trade 


Tell me, it is far for me to say 
What it is to say
It is far me to say 

Jittery getters

What am I to ceremonies  
If I start to every bit objectify 
On every occasion, with a trumpet 


Lay out carpets in Moroccan red 
And be seen sat in a tuxedo 
Have a banquet  with open doors  


And have the Queen here sat at present 
Yea, tables laid, chandeliers hung 
And have me host this, high on calender 


On ceremony with jittery getters 
Unceremoniously with shivers 
All to have just stood in front of toothless crowds


And make this here a brief presentation 
To the who of not, he is not with bite 
Of who is who, sat here watching 


What am I to ceremonies 
If I start to every bit objectify 
On every occasion with a trumpet 

The Unfamiliar Acquaintance

I am the one, you passed by yesterday 
The neighbour you said hello to, or not 
The nods and smiles you gave, or not 


The gentle echoes from the distance you heard 
Like a visit to my Keta village, on the shores 
Of the volta and dawn drum beats, that melody 


That melody, that wakes the soul to feed, or not 
I am the lover you once had, made promises to 
Your first love or not, second love, third love, or not 


The beggar on the street you tossed a coin to, or not 
The neighbour's child with scruffy hair, or not  
The kid you willingly shared your all with, or not 


With names familiar to you, or not 
And memories of innocences, or not 
The childhood best friends forever, or not 


Still unsure, what emphases to place in knowing 
Whether to call thee a friend or an acquaintance 
Whether to make thee a stranger, with a hint of familiarity 

But you know to recognise comrades, and lay claim to relations 
As opulence favour door ways of subjects, until now with surety 
Surely you must be, don't you remember, with tones changed 

Arts and Food, Fed

I got fed, stood on rocky hills 
Where pastures of savannah replaced thick forest 
And the dry spell of drought, changed the richness of the land 


The livestocks, that which symbolised my freedom 
My riches and my very survival; cattle on open fields 
Had long lost the battle, to the seasons silence 


Skeletons w' PhD lay across fields of carcasses of wasted meat 
The winds carry echoes of rumours of worst to come 
I hear the birds whisper in anger, as austerity engulfs the poor 


This was the fault of the politicians, they saw this coming 
But opted to line, the bankers pockets as safeguard 
So now a dust storm blows, like biblical revelations 


And many a men, with pride queue in lines 
To be fed by the collapsing safety nets 
It was never meant to carry the load of so many 


And for a while, some have lived on it as their birth rights 
The jungles lay empty without hunters harvest 
Without the farmers basket 


Decomposition of the very fabric of society 
As sons of yesterday, sons of today, fathers of today 
Sisters and mothers, yell out for reasoning wise 


Why must they, have they, lost their dignity 
At the expense of the wrong doers 
My mind is tiered of pondering, lamenting makes me thirsty 


Ticking clocks as constant reminders of obligations 
Count down, on days into nights then another after 
I walked into an art house and got fed 


This time it was my soul the most that starved 
I walked into an art house, where painters galleries  
Lined the walls, with abstract expressions painted vivid 


And warriors held their guitar ready to engage 
A'  t' front line soldiers came with words to recite in poetry
I walked into an arts house, on Stokes Croft  and got fed 

To Love a' To Hold

An over whelming embrace I feel, drawing emotions  
Like that of a beautiful film coming to an end 
Opening tear drops, from the eye lid 


As rain wash pure, it draws out feelings 
So emotional,  that I can not hold back 
But to express, like possession 


Like the joy of seeing love, loving you 
Of lovers missed, to have been reunited again 
With surprise; walking through doors unexpected 


Emotionally driven, from the very depths of the soul 
A jump of joy, the tightest of hug, to love and to hold 
A child's grip of an adult's hand, this for assurance of safety 


So good to see you again my dear 
Old friends, old love, oh life, old joy 
So good to see you again  


And this is essence, instinct of being 
Shaw-shank redemption, like Lean on me 
A yearn for repeat play, ecstasy to relive in t' moment again 


Sometimes the answers sought for are so simple 
Yet so complicated, that no words can make sense of 
The intense pull, sensation of the heart, in defining life 


And I felt the blood rush into my head, to wake 
I cried out solemnly with joy, to define my essence 
I loved to share the strength within me 


I opened up to allow my humanity's relief 
To worship it's feed from divine 
I know life,  I know joy, I know love 


Emotions drawn 
So lean on me I have got soul 
And feed of my essence 

Love Sponge

Sponge is squashy held in my arms  

The feeling of love, so wild and tender  

Love sponge, we will always be together  

Father Of Venus

Her Father, my Mother  

Who is to be blamed  in blame games

For expectation, setting standards  

To be kept, to be matched  

I blame her father, she blames my mother  
It is not Mars or Venus that holds blame tags 
To be renamed,  pointing fingures in blame game named  


Her father is Venus and my mother is Mars   
She moulded Mars, my mother did  
 For a man to be who I am 


I blame her father   
Fathering her love and expectation 
Mr Venus setting standards bars soo high 


I blame her father she blames my mother  
Now we are playing catch up, learning fast  
From rule books, discovery of unwritten love manual

That women are from fatherly Venus 
And men are from motherly Mars 
I bet you didn't think of it this way 

The Storm

After the dust craze settles 
Forward, on passage, we all move  
Behind the storm in circles  


And in circles we await the next encounter   
Between then and now, and now's encounters 
We stand on reflection with thinkers cup  


Tasked to prepare for the next encounter  
It is our key performance indicators  
And we are told to know in fact  


That impact will suffocate and drawn 
The man who did nothing,  
After first encounter 


He relayed on the tree 
For protection in the first storms encounters 
And hopes to do the same again 


To have just quenched the fire at the edge 
But did nothing from the source  
The spark, the reasons triggered ignored 


And built no bunker to protect his own  
That man will suffocate 
In the mist of the storm 

Celebrating Love

Love is like a river, with seasons 
Honoured by the calenders post  
Flowers, wine, chocolate  
 And for joy to be this day  


Another day added to celebrate life  
W' is love to discern in meaning 
To the solitary man in cottage far 
Who lived void from welcoming hands  


It is the treasure of knowing  
Feeling, caring, gentle teases in-between  
Pillow talks, and cuddling 
I profess to know so well 


The energy that forms 
When we come together
Lighting strike to sparkle 
The affinity of zeal  


I am blessed to have you 
I know that, you are with joy  
By my side to complete me, as I do you   
As I do you and the honour I hold  


It is with joy bestowed 
To complete you  
The privilege 
I am accustomed 


To hold your hands 
And be honoured 
By the calenders post 
In celebrating love 


Oh s**** I forgot the flowers :)

Five Daughters

The White Powder; Happy Dust
In support of :http://www.iceniipswich.org.uk/

I am alone, lost in a dark place
It is my love of life, t' brought me to y'r door step

It is the excitement you bring

That lured me into your seduction

Then at night;  scooch, you broke me in two

On addictions, my nostrils bleed, for your nose candy

You made me walk in the cold at night, junky all alone

You sold me for cheap, to the devil's wickedness 

It is my love of life, the need  for joy

That brought me, desperate to your door step

It is my love of life, that brought me here 

Here, onto scared unhallowed grounds 

While I watch conniption, my hysteria of loneliness 
In outer skin, out of body, seeing myself 
About to comatose in sensation  
Felt betrayed by your ghostly powder 

Left on the coroner's lonely cold table 
Stripped of  my dignity, to bare 
Long before being bisected by autopsy  
To be identified by family, as empty 

Your white powder, 
Stardust, white lady, robbed me

You robbed me of my life, 
You stole away my dreams

The following below is written by the family of: Paula Clennell

I want your head on my shoulder
I want to breathe you in and know that you are safe
I want to see your, feet up watching telly
I want to tell you, not to swear
Angel girl, come back to me

Written by: R.I.P Annette Nicholls

Me and my adorable man
Will one day walk hand in hand
Away from this place
For the rest of our days
For the rest of our lives
No more this, no more that
No more the other
Me and my brave, brave man
Nights in with the telly
Days out with the family
A walk in the park
See me the sister
See me the daughter
Perhaps in time, a wife
So Proud
See me , a mother.

The Five Murdered in 2006 by Steven Wright ;
Gemma Adams, Tania Nicol, Anneli Alderton
Annette Nicolls and Paula Connell
May their souls rest in peace 

Promises Made

#Just be good to me,
#Is all I'm saying


On ocean waves,
I arrive, barefoot, on ocean's blue
Beach sand in between, my toe


Romance, of the landscape
Built on anticipation, 
Nothing but paradise 


On thoughts that coil 
Around my dreams. 
This is to be, my happy ever afters


Smiles from tender face
That looks back, on starring reflection  
Stood like the mahogany of love me


Love, strength and care
Positioned like the awaited legacy
Proclaims, this in joy


#You are in my world now
#Oh my precious 
# You are in my realm now


Welcome to my shore line, 
Allow me to guide you 
Through the in roads, of this Island


Let me build you a hut, 
To lay your head rest
For the sunset hibernation,


Let me hunt your food, 
For breakfast, served
With fruits of my harvestation


She looks back with smiles, 
A stroke on starring face, in reflection
And she says, 


#Just be good to me
 #oh my darling,
 #Just be good to me