An Alien Capture

This journey feels long 
And sometimes it feels as though
The person who started the journey 
Is now a stranger wearing my shoes 

Did I wake the morning 
Or is this a prolonged dream 
Would the mind be sincere 
And truthful to me  

And tell me truly 
If I am really awake 
No strange characters lurking around 
Flying cows w' wings to confirm my wonder  

Though sometimes supposed 
Reality leaves me lost and confused 
Running in circles going nowhere 
Dogs chasing tales all in circles 

Have my reality  been kidnapped 
For an old debt owed 
They promised I will pay 
Someday, one day they promised 

Am I stack in a room  tied to a bed 
With wires and tubes hanging 
Off my body and brain being prodded
With induced dream state to comfort me 

To keep me in comatose 
So I don't wake to fight off 
This drain of my reality  so vivid
It must be an alien capture, an alien capture

Love and the road topsy-turvy

Speed is time over distance traveled 
First past the post 

Behind wheels 
And to be known as a petrol head 

I am going fast, am moving fast 
But caution is always a guide 

To stop when the red light comes up 
Slow at a time on the amber 

But in cases, case study 
When the lights are off 

There is always the traffic cop 
To direct my projection 

That is how it is suppose to be 
For law and order, that is the deal 

Yet on this occasion 
No show, traffic light and the cop 

To be replaced by a drunk 
Junkie on the road directing traffic 

Begging for change for service rendered 
Please Sir, can I have some change please 

A recipe for disaster 
Clash of the tartans 

Metal against metal, topsy-turvy 
Two cars on a collision course 

And I am caught in the middle 
About to become a disaster 

Bridges of Spiritualism

Religion as the bridge into spiritualism  

Two landmass and a river between 
A side we live-in another we aspire to connect to 

Religion is the bridge to cross on this river course 

Of which different architect, forms, design and make 

Some as wooden curved structures that stand 

Some as metal elaborate in design

Some as concrete firm and wide

Others with boats to sail across these aqua stand

Yet still on this river in parts where depths so shallow

One can venture a foot long, walk through

And yet to cross this river a sense of faith

As steps is required, do you believe 

For one cannot see in clear view 

Unto the banks of the river with all the 

Fog around and the winds that blow 

Threatening to throw one overboard 

It is so required for a medium to be picked 

In crossing over but do not swear to the bridge 

For it is only but a bridge, do not worship its stands 

And the men and women tasked to hold its grounds (special interest)

For it is not as the value 
Of the river bank on the other side 

Just the passage, where no one can 
Find divine awakening 

As it stand these bridges being of human make

Changes are made, as some required and some influenced

To modify these bridges, each care taker, gate keeper

And the tweaking changes they make to fit their notions  

As with familiarity, locality and proximity

We do patronize a given bridge of cause we do 

Though from time to time we question its integrity  

We find a need to use others when we come across them 

But do not worship any given bridge 

Nor the men that are tasked to hold guard

Appreciate it stands, as a passage path 

Knowing that once you cross any given bridge 

You will land on the banks of spiritualism 

Awareness, meditation, faith and prayers

Are currencies the gate keepers accept 

Evidence as a reflection of thy will

To cross their bridge you have to believe its hold 

Know each bridge, has culture and norms

And one has to obey them as allowance and respect

But do not become fanatic to the norms

And hold as true as the one and only course

Religion is the bridge over the river

Bridging t' gap between the mortal and spiritual world 
We wake, we have faith, we pray 
And walk the bridged road into 
A spiritual awakening 
On which bridge do you walk 

Youth like an hourglass

Youth is like the hourglass 
So full to the brim so time goes slow 

Not much it gives to the bottom of the glass 
Defined by a sense of invisibility bottom-up 

Had you all of  the strength and time 
A few yet more than enough to spend 

Of funds to blow and plunder and render 
Why would you act any different on cue 

Do not fool yourself  with pretence 
Your thoughts speaks so loud I can hear you thinker 

Why not for memories to be made of  time wasted 
Gallivanting and masquerading with bravado 

Action heroes are made of youth 
Capoeira and free running on walls to match 

Such joy of life, if youth was forever 
And death was never known to man 

But you can not be too wise with sage  
And save a penny a penny too many 

Testosterones and jumping hormones 
Running wild like a spirit  possessed 

Wait my good friend, don't be a kill joy 
Spoiling the sports with so much wisdom 

Half way down the hourglass full 
The sand starts rushing off fast with speed 

Time my friend, at this point 
Waits for no man, quick quick now 

The hourglass in a rush 
Minutes gone in seconds now ticking 

Oh time they say, waits for no man I hear 
Rushing off, like it is being chased after 

Youth like an hourglass 
Have fun my friend your time would come 

When the hourglass sand just runs and runs 
With a whirlpool fast on your time 

Dirty Games, Dirty Dance

Dirty games and dirty dancing, broken vases a, broken wisdom 
Is us celebrating, celebrity mediocre as fine tune 
And putting that on a mantle piece, Yes Sir !

Content hallow in the world of consumerism 
Flash light, nothing last, nothing holds form 
Nothing is built to last on this hype 

Rushed through all in no time 
No time for analysis, void in making meaning of 
Factory belt sat on, moving motion passes by  

In goes out comes a rabbit on heat speed fast vibration 
A process defined with no added value, its battery powered 
Its sensation sexuality sexualization wealth and arrogance 

Hard to tell who is with wisdom among the crowd 
Camouflage keep that unannounced, trainspotters hallucinating 
Awareness is looking at one's self in the day after a hangover, it is not done 

At night we all come out like vampires with thirst 
Dress as the same, liquor fuels our agenda 
Hard to differentiate the politician from the reverend  

The prostitute services them all  at the same time 
And she is owed by both for non payment on tabs 
Still they think it is right to ask for discount 

 On account Miley Cyrus and Micheal Jackson are frowned upon 
But again the good die young so why not switch 
In this crazed world we live in, one learns to adopt  

Honesty is laying it bare, it is an art form of exhibitionist 
Going naked is a protest by FEMEN activist 
Yet the eyes are all engaged, gulled, perverting 

Quick now, how they jump out of the wood works  
First with stones, dirty hands and hypocrisy, cleaning mouths 
With false self-conscience on misdirected attacks 

Dirty games and dirty dancing, scarce morality 
Who would grace this floor first 
The music is in play 

Swing, just a passing day

Motions drive me 

Movement with position 

Adjust to fine tune 

The Make A Wish Foundation

Customarily candle lights are blown 
To make wishes, make a wish 
Make a wish and blow out the candle lights 

With your eyes closed, no peek, no peek 
Come now dear, dear,  make a wish 
And wish it to be just that true 

Fairy-tales and  dreams are made 
Of the same dust of  magic  from the heavens  
That made the earth, so make reality of your wish 

For this day, that and all the rest 
Make a wish, have a dream, close your eyes
Snap your fingers and believe it to be true 

By the time the day finds it ends 
With the sun out at sea, open your hearts  
And watch reality of your dreams come true 

Make a wish, make a wish 
Send an S.O.S to the make a wish foundation 
See my dear, fairy-tales and dreams do come true 

So make a wish on this day 
Make a wish, make a wish and have a dream 
Blow out the candle and make a wish, make a wish 

The Time Capsules and Me

As richness places I, I was to be rich 

Rich, rich, rich, beyond one's wildest dream 

As a man, I  was to be rich in status standing 

Standing  free, wealthy and rich as status be 

And to be that rich only warrants 

The thirst of perpetual stay, of course I concur 

Putting my weight of gain and health and all  

And all my chips on such status standing 

I concur, no one in their rightful mind would want 

To see the end of good stead, if expectation perish

Is made void, quitting while one is ahead is only 

In anticipation of a down turn in status standing

And if that is an affair of the consequence of wealth 

Then thus is void in this scenario stated, and quitting

Is a concept alien to proceedings as proceedings go 

To thus maintaining t’ status quo as status standing 

Though one as human with weakness of mortality 

This is one battle for now even the richest of men 

Can not win, not yet, though Benny Ecclestone and Paul McCarty 

Would wish so, quicker, as Jackson once did in status stand 

A proposal then to be made, in cometh the time capsule

Dry freeze and hibernated in a mid-state of death as sleep

As a compromise to science's shortfall to be awaken 

In a thousand years time in status stand

Would I still be relevant like E.T 's cool 

Keeping up with the Jones as they do 

Like Shakespeare and Charles Dickens 

In status stand, the time capsules and me 

Marvin the Squirrel King of Nuttella

Marvin the squirrel lived on a plantation of nuts on a farmer's land on the west coast, near a  human village, not far from the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. The land was rich in gold and oil, but much more so in nuts. So much so that the village was called Nutella. 

The village had a share of nuts and nuts so bountiful it pleased and fed all to excess. The village farmers mixed the nuts with chocolate and exported it to the human village nearby. They gained a lot in return and could buy all that they needed. 

When Marvin first came to the farmer's land he was very malnourished, skinny and small, and wore tattered clothes. With so little to eat he was starving and so was named Marvin. Dear starving Marvin.

The farmer saw Marvin the skinny squirrel thin to his bones, from a distance and rushed to his rescue. “I am going to save you”, the farmer said “ and you will be my blessing Marvin and others will benefit from such blessing, you will be my legacy Marvin" 

The farmer quickly took Marvin the squirrel into his hut; he fed him and clothed him, keeping him warm at night from the cold. Once Marvin gained his energy, strength and health, the farmer adopted Marvin the squirrel as his own, he made him a member of his family and called him the son he never had. 

The farmer made Marvin the Councillor of the village. The whole village voted. Some were  not particularly pleased that Marvin the squirrel an outsider should hold such a prominent title. But in the end the farmer's wishes were granted by the villagers and Marvin was made the chief Councillor of the village.

To satisfy and settle minds, the privilege bestowed on Marvin was set with a time limit and his responsibility was to guide prosperity and care for the villagers, as the farmer cared for him, when he first came to Nutella the land of riches with plenty of nuts and nuts, to feed the population.

After a while the farmer passed away and Marvin found he had all the power to govern until the next scheduled election. However Marvin became ruthless as he ruled  and he asserted his authority to crush any opposition. Soon voting day neared and he became so determined to hang on to power that he devised a cunning plan.

As the time neared for the election, suddenly the price for nuts shot up and know one quite knew why. The demand for nuts had not increased and the harvest was just as plentiful, yet there seemed to be a shortage of nuts. Strangely, around the same time little hills, started appearing on the outskirts of the land. The hills were fiercely protected, guarded by the elite guarding squirrels, hand picked by Marvin himself.

Within a  short time, the villagers became very hungry except for a few. The rest starving like Marvin was when he first came to the village, thin, boney wearing tattered clothes, begging for rescue. 

A little village squirrel called Johnny happened to be playing on the fields where the hills had appeared. He had sneaked out onto the hills without being seen by the guarding squirrels. As he jumped up and down from hill to hill, he suddenly fell through one of the hills and there it was; all of the nuts from harvest seasons, carefully packed in heaps of sacks. They all had little stamps of ownership on them, neatly scribbled was Marvin the squirrel's name. 

Johnny the little squirrel was so incensed he run to tell everyone. He thought to himself everyone should know about this but just as he came out of the nut hill, he bumped into the guarding squirrels.

The guarding squirrels went wild and laid into Johnny beating him soundly. Then kept him imprisoned to prevent him from blowing the whistle to the whole village, telling them where all the nuts were being kept while they went starving and hungry. 

All the time that Johnny the little squirrel was being kept against his will he wondered why the guarding squirrels were happy to help Marvin the squirrel hide the nuts, while the villagers starved. 

The guarding squirrels were from the same village Nuttella, they had family members starving in the village, they had friends starving in the village, yet would only give the nuts to those who gave their support to Marvin. Johnny the little squirrel wondered what would become of the village if Marvin held on to power at the elections. He wondered what it would mean to those that  voted against him. 

In foreign lands the farmer's little village Nuttella was still being praised; some said, it was of great richness but others who have heard recent stories from Nuttella were of a different opinion, they spoke of a decaying and run down Nutella, with little prospects and high corruption since Marvin took over. 

Johnny the little squirrel suddenly felt a need to use the bathroom as he sat caged behind bars. That was when he opened his eyes and realized it was all a dream. He had fallen asleep after reading the oracle's letter. Marvin was still the heard councilor of the village, there was plenty of nuts in the village and the election was quite a distance away.


In the kitchen, as Johnny the little squirrel made his way back to his bed room, he noticed a jar of Nutella,  Johnny stuck his head deep in the jar, to  completely wake from his nightmarish dream, thinking the oracle must be so wrong, surely that could not happen... To Be Continued ............

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

An Obsession (1 of 3)

I have an obsession with the night 

It draws me in, like a feed 

Every night with transformation  

Oh, what mystery the nights holds 

From the earth to the heavens and beyond 

Darkness surrounds the blueness of  sky 

It leaves my defined ideation clouded in lost 

It says it all and says nothing at all  

Infecting my  mind to wonder madly 

Between  the safeness of dreams 

And nightmares haunt, that follows 

Surrealism conjures images and thoughts 

Insomnia would not excuse, as escape  

Invasion of thoughts that ponders wildly 

Orging with pleasure and of guilt and scare 

Drawn into hallucination with opened eyes wide 

Blearing borders of reality and dreams

Compelling with tacit, holding grounds at night 

I have an obsession with the night 
It wakes my primal being 
To tickle my senses 

Close to dreams

A step close to the ocean sea, fairy-tales lay 
Where I am to be made, held to crown  
The fisher of my dreams 


I have travelled far, to get to this shore 
I have walked through the forest 
Battled beast and many more  


I have escaped the trenches 
Dug by my foe, wishing my fall 
I have prayed for fresh water 


To quench my taste 
I have sweated, buckets  full 
And sucked my shirt, so I walk without  


Finally, I saw the shore line 
And blessed, there in sight, stood a boat waiting 
This would be my fortune change 


I am to be made the fisher of my dreams 
Little did I, think to look this late  
Why put quicksand my way, this late, this close  


Why, so close to fairy-tales 
But know this, foe of sand, before the tide I will sail 
Before the night falls, I will cast my net 

In Clues Left

A flag, a dog, poppy as flower on remembrance, a' pop music 
Not much to say about the fish and chips  
A dynasty,  grade one, grade two, listed buildings 


Lighthouse, Angel of the north, Stonehenge 
Not much else to say 
About the narrow streets  


A spinning wheel named an eye of a city
Parks, museums, pubs, cottages 
Galleries, castles and cathedrals 


A union of reserved feelings 
Not close to friendship "civilised, or so it is said to be"
But it will suffice on forced smiles  


For the image needed to portray 
Put the rest down to politics
North, south divided not much else to say 


Not much else to say about the weather 
It rains, no it pours, and holds unpredictability  
No it drenches in summer, not much else to say


But God save the "******"
And whoever comes after "keep calm and carry on"
Bacon on breakfast, baked beans with eggs, tea! 


Not wanting to give too much away
Like too much away, already given 
Said enough, in too much said 


And if I am to ask, on clue  
Pick a town a city or a place 
Best  to suit descriptions above, what would it be  


Free fish and chips 
If you did get it right, for getting it right  
A trip of a life time, if you did get it right 

Naming Names

Interesting names, I am named 
With not just the one 
But a dozen or so more  


More in names to respond to  
To be known by a word 
A name of representation  


And in pronunciation it changes too 
From what accent one is to hold 
I am named with not just the one  


Many a name I am to be known by 
Some for groups, in forms I belong to  
A' playground names oh a few more to mention 


Or characters known by 
Some for praises and so welcomed  
Some for curse, I pretend not to hear  


I am named, 
In my life time, many more in names 
I would be known by  


Some just in groups I belong to  
Some just in the way, I  am seen as 
I am known by, all in names 


I am named 

Holding a candlelight vigil

Should I hold a candlelight on vigil  
Mark on calenders on count down  
Push the sun with my bare hands  


From the east to the west  
So the sun will rise  
And set in a hurry, in a hurry 


Build green houses, then feed seeds, relentless 
Fertilizers, irrigation, like a junky with needles
So they germinate and blossom in a hist  


I would double my steps fast, quick enough  
For the cheater to be left chasing  
My shadows in savannah's plains  


Should I hold a candlelight on vigil  
Seek audience of the King 
To announce with intent  


Dare my naked neck on the butcher's table  
As far as I would go on will, standing my ground   
To be of honour, by my words of announce  


Would I be true in words authored  
Would my announce be made prophecy of  
And on this subject, be myself an oracle 


Should I hold a candlelight on vigil 
Hold my need, when nature calls 
As thus not to miss the first glance of glimpse 


And starve sleep in night corridors 
With patience lost of anxiety wait 
Like a sneeze with force, none can hold back 


And windows too, feel pressured 
As I invade their personal space 
One too many a time on lookout 


Should I hold candlelight on vigil  
 A thousand outcomes 
Could be made of this venture 


What would your last words authored be  
To have you stand on ownership 
To my treasured candle vigil  

Should I hold a candle on vigil   


What would prosperity, romance, success, aspirations, job, protest 
What would birth, death, joy, happiness, expectation, celebration  
What would voyage, heartbreak, arrivals, departure, results  


What would, what would, what would stand 


A thousand outcomes, could become of thus 
Should I hold a candle on vigil ....................
Fill in the gaps to claim ownership, of this vigil