Youth

What is teaching, without first being taught?
One cannot impart experiential knowledge worriedly wrought,
This is not to say that experience cannot breed understanding,
But what is beautiful flight, if we cannot see landing?....
Effort must be carried through,
Genuine love must be parried true,
If it's not to contribute to foresight of future,
It proves as useful as abstinent Karma Sutra.


Nurture where needed,
Bandage where bleeding,
THEY are all we have!
We build their base,
We fill the future they face,
Life lessens in selfish selections,
Instead it dedicates to dictate dutiful directions..


Some say never allow thyself to become too deeply invested,
How can one deduce dividends if one's immersion isn't tested?
Life too is subject to assessment,
No matter how much you're licensed to lecture, on this course - there's no refreshment,
Guide the gullible, help the hapless, improve the intelligent and embrace the excellent,
This my friends! is our reason for rising and the tale to our testament..

Thought Out Loud

Yes, that’s usually how it goes,

Words become a fragmented reality,

Fragments of reality become your foes,

Continuum is the cog of truth,

No matter how often we throw over a guise,

Time has no time to wait,

Time flies

Repetition is the key to mastery,

Master was key to submission,

That was their mission,

Still is,

Many rivers to cross,

No Bridges,

Aside from me,

What’s a namesake when the name was lent?

Catholicism

Time didn't wait, but ours was well spent.

Omnipresence

In its most uncomplicated form,

We proceed,

Clandestine journeying,

So often the trek betters the destination,

Archaic techniques fuse archetype thinking,

Sprouting sheep

It grows tedious,

Becoming different becomes becoming facetious,

What coordinates your compass?

Walk

Walk..
Just keep walking, but never you talk,
Walk..
Keep pacing, look where your facing,
Walk..
Keep going, never start slowing,
Walk..
Constant speed.. Steady and take Heed,
Walk..


Walk until you reach your destination,
Walk until you preach appreciation,
Humble yourself,
One must feel internal wealth,
Walk a path that leads life,
Avoid crawling a route that seethes strife,
We walk with intention and purpose,
But sometimes our feet cannot serve us.
What do we do for resilience?
To use against cantankerous callous & bruising of belligerence..


The walk of life is more than a right..
Of passage, in which we build the fight,
One must always deny the dexterity of defeat,
The laceration of loss, the swelling of futile feet,
Jolt thy joints in the direction of which aspiration points,
Not sacrilegious; but achievement awaits those, who the walk anoints,
Keep up the kinetic, otherwise forget it!
A weary walk of worry will stay indebted.
Walk to where you will in this world,
Walk until the slabs you step upon allow your dreams to unfurl.

Stressed

Creeping up and into you such as an IV in your last hours,

How vain?

Taking over you like a trip to the twin towers,

Disaster and pain,

Anger precipitates precariously,

I’ll have you facilitate fearing me,

You’ll come to understand..

Why I use fist and not hand,

But really require hand and not fist,

Rather be slapped than to be kissed,

I don’t like ANYONE or ANYTHING,

But only for the seconds I stress-sing,

Migraine,

Pressure built up like a stainless steel kettle,

My pain,

Gruesomely painful – it’s an impaling stinging nettle,

Too serious?

Are you Delirious?

Even Eddie saw Red,

Like the fire I bled,

Who nose?

It’s the incensed head-pumping that causes flows,

Blood streaming full of anger,

Each droplet causing the direction to meander,

Anyone can now fall victim,

Stress blurs the logic to how you pick them,

The reason is not always the target,

And this is the match stick – the flame of problem, we spark it.

Stressed,

You guessed!

What gave it away?

The absent stare aided by the twisted lips on display,

But one should never window shop,

Understand the bottom before you judge the top,

There’s always another angle to cover,

I need to be lifted to recover,

This cant be done sober,

Equilibrium is Mars and I’m the Rover,

Can’t stop until I find that, for which I am looking,

But in this state – one’s reality will forever be crooked.

Meditate.

Why Is It So Hard?

Awoken by this solid surprise,
I didn’t instigate this when I closed my eyes..
Terrible tough textured brute,
Only 1 of 2 things he would suit,
There will be no end, so I don’t understand the start!
Why is it so hard?

Protruding, pervasive… persuasive?
Trying to go above and beyond with no space ship,
Intangible, not malleable – stiff to the spot,
Push too hard – strain pain and becomes too hot,
Needs to be put away, needs to be put down,
Drum like – in the way it can create sound,
Crude!

Tempted to touch,
Exempted from rush,
There is a solution,
Release of convolution,
Artificial satisfaction,
Authentic submergence needed, even if only a fraction,
“Just the tip”,
Better to drink your sin than to sip,
Why is it so hard?
Find resolution rather than reason,
We are animals – IT happens without meaning.

He’s Gone

No way!

Can’t be..

How Long?

My don!!

He’s gone



Primary perplexity,

Trying to understand why would you play such a perverse joke?

Verified but vexing me,

Not possessing the permeating polyester to allow this in to soak,

Metaphorically..

Metaphysically?

No Science or linguistics can explain this state,

Just like I cannot love THEIR hate,

I do not understand this to be true,

Or more I cannot stand to lose you,

My friend, my support, my source of removal from any stress I'm suffering,

Quick with a title for me to search and laugh at; to get buffering,

But it was more than just that,

You had my back,

And understood the depth that many lack,

BUT

So many just didn't know..

They just didn't know!

Understanding is sometimes like vegetation that we sow,

Until you spend time to unearth it, you never know the beauty it could grow,

Such was the soul of my late, great friend,

Can we have just 1 more debating moment to spend?

Can I ‘Trap’ his soul with just 1 more song?

He’s Gone



Why is it that the kindest get taken?

The most genuine suffer an early cycle breaking,

Why didn't he pedal rather than run?

Why didn't he run rather than pedal?

Since he left without saying bye, my spirit won’t settle,

I still look to his messages,

Helpless as a pessimist,

Attempt to reply back,

But stop and blame myself for this messiness,

I didn't check on why he didn't reply,

I text 4 times thinking “where the hell is Si?”

We don’t expect the worst,

And we don’t respect the hearse,

That could await us all defenceless - as there is no weapon, 

When time calls your name, you are gone in a quick second, 

Just like my friend, 

Fist fight to the end, 

In your name and for your honour, 

I will strive & dedicate all I do to you my brother.


Love Glitz..

oxyMORONS

Finger tapping away,
Keep the scrapping at bay,
Implicit irony,
Degenerates that generate,
Intrinsic virally,
The hateful that hate,
This is both their end product,
And their only starting weapon,
They will send "whaddup",
But fight against you like a spartan repping.

Trust is for the trusting,
Turn around show your back!
This knife is for the thrusting,
Living in a microcosm of micro 'cos' and 'umm's.
Regard has rendered for regality,
Linguistic expression suffers fatality,
Cool colloquialisms take primacy,
Of importance,
Unconscious to self-fulfilling prophecy,
Who taught us?
Denounced as 'dumb' or illiterate,
Then you just play into the hand of it.
Nonsensical.
YOU make no sense at all!!

Why shall one then pay attention?
When this remuneration is retention,
Keeping one's head,
Sleeping in one's own bed,
Make it and thus lie in it,
Take their trust and die in it!
The oxymoron of external destruction being self-destructive,
Understanding must be placed on the jealous obstructive,
There is reasoning behind what you do,
And why you are allowed to do it,
Don't stagnate it, instead renew it.
Give them something more to attack,
The more they attack is the more they watch it back.
Ultimately they become the personified oxyMORON,
They hate what they rate whilst putting on their jealousy jacket.
There is a thin line between, but to clutch onto love is automatic.
Oxymoronic?...

This Train

I just sit here riding this train,
Its abyss here finding his brain,
He being any 'I' that know the pain,
Stop after stop whether sun, hail, sleet or rain,
Different weathers are not the elements that matter here,
This is about the mechanical elements that underlie us in sphere,
They carry us,
Prince Harry does??
Hmm..

Bakerloo, Metropolitan, Jubilee, Northern,
I wonder if the creators or carriers of these names were Mormon,
Regardless - these names hold weight to me,
Where do you get off?
Ahhh!! The same. Its fate you see!
Strangers that see each other every day,
Taking the same journey but never say Hey!
Internally asking "Where were you yesterday?"
She must've been sick..
Missed my race to that seat, to see whose feet prove quick,
Minor victory in this underground world,
The place with odours to make nose follicles curl,

This train! I still ride it though,
Even possessing a car won't stunt our flow,
In the 'Big Smoke' It makes more sense,
Hence why it progressively pinches our last pence,
The quickest route is to be on the rails,
While the thickest fools feed on tube tales,
You have to live it to know it,
Feel it to sow it,
Feed it to grow it,
A multitude of meanings to gain,
When I ride, I ride this train.

Addiction

So here I lay,

On this last day of May,
Pondering how it placates me,
Lessening yearning as it Play-Mates me,
Playing with addiction is less pain,
To go without, is to go insane,
It is the happiest heinous friend you could have,
The lapping up of genius tends to soul grab.
You're left with nothing,
But YOU carved the curve of your own coffin.

That which seems jovial and satisfying,
Shows itself to be Lust- full of lying,
Who knew addiction had a face?
Who knew contradiction had a taste?
Bitter isn’t it?
Better than a prison bid?
To give your all to something you have no control over,
You may as well live in a brewery practicing to be sober,
IT should never puppet you!
You have to hold it in your hand and cup it too.
You take the authority,
Never fall victim to become a minority,
The small group of those who are powerless in disguise,
There's nothing wrong with a little addiction -
as long as you know the route to where the exit path lies.

What Kind Of Weather Is This?

What kind of weather is this?
Instead of morning, I'm greeted by mist,
Shivering as if my nerve endings are searching an exit route,
I grab as many layers as possible, even tempted to throw on my suit,
What kind of weather is this?
"I'm not leaving", Me and this House Heater will learn to co-exist!

Questioning what is colder out there,
Their hearts or the equally as icy air,
I've got socks on,
Not 1, Not 2, I got lots on,
That I Don't intend to, tend to, while its ten or under,
These degree marks academics have no bearing on, as my body warmth becomes asunder,
Thunder..
We wish,
This climatic revenge was definitely served cold; no dish.
What kind of weather is this?
Is stepping out worth the risk?
I beg to differ,
I beg to dinner,
Just for the condensation fuelled fumes that hover the plate,
Is it melodramatic to state, that I hate, that this weather hath sealed my fate??

What kind of weather is this?
Biting my fingertips, but never offering a kiss,
RUDE!!
At least with a female, we couldve got nude,
This weather hasn't given me anything but chill,
As it desperately tries to transmit trailing germs to get me ill,
I veer left and right, dodging its slicing traumatic temperature tingles,
What kind of weather is this? No Paddy, but taking out a nation in singles.

As I Walk These Streets...

As I walk these streets,
Do you observe the treats?
Mine or yours?
Or a mixture of each?
Ha Ha Ha
Well its only but natural,
To find out if fact is factual.
I see everything,
My eyes are just good liars,
Smoothly rolling over all, like good tyres,
Never too worn,
Clever to warn..
about life as a bed,
Messing up sheets!
Oh these trecherous streets!!

As I walk these streets,
Questioning all that to which my innocent eye meets,
Motive or purpose,
Notice the circus?
Forced flamboyance,
Different or annoyance?
I feel dated,
But I'm single,
Appeals faded,
Not a tingle,
I don't feel for you anymore,
I don't steal to leave it sore,
Have a heart!
But instead I see you a street apart,
I've walked these streets for many years,
Never seen you, never felt to throw frustrated flares,
But things have changed,
We walk on the same slabs,
but your steps are rearranged,
Generational shift,
Occasional or swift?....

As I walk these streets,
I now understand nothing was ever owed to me,
or owned by me,
Everything changes whether great to grimey,
Smooth to slimey,
We are in a multitude of heterogeneity,
Your actions too are part of this story of stages,
Whether or not you mean it to be,
So nod the acknowledgement of difference,
As I walk these streets giving new understanding deliverance.

BED-Time

I get in and I savour the feeling,
Flat-vertical, I don't favour the kneeling,
Whilst I know it’s highly appealing,
I cannot 40 Wink into a final blink, so sleep I'm never stealing.

Warm, welcoming and cosy,
But rest looks me in the face a stranger- it knows ME!
Soft, solace of recuperation,
But my feet shuffle like this bedding is Bhangra and i’m Asian.
Confused!?
Lying nude!
Nothing lewd.
My mind somehow perceives sinking into the mattress crude.
It’s about that time!
My watch however, beats in the rhythm of uncut rhyme.

Trying a trick of the child rearing trade,
Self imposed bed-bamboozlement is made,
My body however is advanced in its evasion,
It would seem I’m impenetrable to insomnia invasion,
How can something that feels so nice be so wrong?
I wouldn’t struggle with a 5am ‘Redemption song’.

What is one to do when BED-time becomes mythical?
Keeping light inflicted watery eyes, open at a screen is less difficult.
It is said that once you make your bed, you must lie in it..
Do I really N.S g? Or am I misled to just denying it.

Your Body

What if I told you I know all the ins, outs, depths and tender spots of your body,
Even Though I’ve never seen or touched you, I could descriptively tell you how to enter your lobby,
The fleshy way she talks to me, with her mouth always dribbling,
As she attempts to take the full length of me like a snack she’s nibbling,
Mmmmmmm....
It started with an embrace,
Then the facial lips I taste,
Then you move my hand to the lace,
The type that keep a bra in place...
Internal breathy exhale as I meet them,
Take them out to tongue-greet them,
Tenderly cup them, before I look you in the eye, as I slowly kiss one at a time,
It isn’t long before my tongue caresses them, as your shock makes you moan in mime,
Mouth open, but not a single sound,
I arise from Twin kissing, gently biting all the areas around,
Intense...You start to dig your nails into my back as passions heat up,
I firmly grab the back of your head, kissing and biting your neck, as you whisper “It needs to get beat up”.
“You’re Body! BABY!!! You’re body!“ I growl at her, as I fling her body lower,
Clothes ripped off, as I stare into her eyes no blinking, thinking: “she’s not even ready for what I’m about to show her”,
Then she gasps and says “sorry babe I got carried away”...you’re back is full of markings hun”,
I leap naked onto her body and whisper “don’t worry ima leave you’re body like you got Parkinsons”,
Fingers run riot on that fleshy mouth; poking, playing and rubbing until creamy,
I bite her ear lobe as I whisper “are you ready to feel me?”
She tells me to put my hand back down there, then asks me “what do you think?”
She Jumps onto my body so zealously, I hardly flutter a blink,
She then starts to kiss my mouth viciously, then bites my neck this time,
I stretch my arm around to grab and stab it from behind,
She progressively bites and kisses lower and lower, before latching on to him and staring,
1 minute passed, before she starts tongue kissing him, then devouring him with no caring,
I pull her by her arms and throw her body upwards to let her know I want it now,
She then crouches her legs in position, where the twins smother my face- all you hear is POW!
She throws her body down straight onto him with no preparation,
You hear the pain in her scream, as my face rests in her chest, kissing her heart palpitation,
She does not care, she throws her body down and up as her breathing becomes a stammer,
I throw myself up into her remorselessly, faster than a powerfully penetrating Jack hammer,
Time, Place – Everything becomes unimportant in the passion we feel,
Rampant and Wet as we carry on Non Stop, no breaks- no time to heal,
Spooning as I throw in the damaging dagger – animalistic - she decides to purr,
I Hold the front of her neck and kiss the side of her face, as I explode inside of her....
Aside from orgasmic shakes, we both stay unmoved,
I then look up and wipe the tear from under her eye groove,
Kiss her on the mouth and hold her tight,
“You’re Body! BABY!! You’re Body!..I want this for life!”

Things Aren't Always As THEY Seem..

You Think and assume!
You Think and assume you know, don't you?
Know that, which runs the course of my life,
Telling me your perplexity at my still standing strife,
Never peak and perceive!
Look a little deeper to reveal the rancid reality I receive.


It appears a paradise like Paradox doesn't it?
My humble nature misunderstood, as I undertake a dozen fits,
Yes! even more than before!
"What's Wrong with him? How Can He still want more?"
Ever Thought to question what he has in the first place?
Instead of smirking your fake congratulatory smiles on your fickle face.


I stand tight-lipped, as amongst it all I OVERstand my luck and blessing,
I also UNDERstand THEM and why it is better to keep THEM guessing,
If Only THEY knew the full extent of that which fills my proverbial till,
I cannot wait to astound, because much more awaits so surprise THEM I will,
However it isn't about THEM,
Neither really is it about me,
That which this revolves around, is larger than the `world` for which we all seek the owner key,
This is an equilibrium of self and sharing,
This is skin deeper than the unauthentic smile that I'm forever bearing,
This is a matter of the life inheritance and message that is left,
So your assumptions and my frustrations are inadequate at best...

‘Knowing That One Day, My Passion Could Fill My Bank’

‘Knowing That One Day, My Passion Could Fill My Bank’

Fast

I am not doing it for you,
I am not doing it to be part of a crew,
I am not stopping because you disapprove,
I am not stopping because of pain- I endure the rough and smooth,

Independent searching of my own soul and testing of my own will,
To better one’s self by struggling up the adversity ridden hill,
These are Testing times, and I am not afraid of adjudicators,
I instead favour results but not those owned by a fool with papers,
These results are soul felt and spirit known,
I therefore continue and never moan.

I am thankful I have the ability to do it,
This is the very reason I choose to fight through it,
Some doubt me as I haven’t taken the final step,
They cease to understand, I am training with no regret,
One day I will step into full capacity,
I am fully faithful that a sign will be shown in mass to me,
So here I stand, enforcing abstinence for what is relatively a short period,
The book says I am born to do this, so who am I to query it?

Laugh

I personally rate laughing as the greatest gift,
Whether given to put down or received to uplift,
There is not a single emotion, laughing cannot interject,
In a middle of a heat wave, a laugh could pause sweat,
I’ve witnessed unexpected death where a laugh broke the silence,
Unknowing then, but now understanding to release endorphins provided guidance.
Guidance of a kind that only an ‘Ital’ reaction can produce,
I have learnt to make a laugh out of anything you may choose.

Many have not taken the time to hear my comedic rhyme,
Or view when I have spontaneous slap-stick time,
Indeed many do not want to be part of laughter,
Opposing and instead immerse themselves in the incessant life of a grafter,
But my friend! I can only champion this,
A laugh can be sweeter than that of a kiss,
Thus for you to disassociate yourself from the phenomena....
Calls for diagnosis or prognosis not given via thermometer.


Open your Mouth, and then chest, and then lungs-finally the deepest is to open your heart,
By the end of the chuckle or snigger, you’ll have forgotten the problems you had at the start,
It isn’t Science nor is it Psychology, as much as they try to bother me,
This is one thing they cannot recreate or manipulate with their technology,
Nitrous Oxide holds no weight on this scale of importance,
This laugh is natural, and not in man-mad accordance,
I want to impose a 3 laugh a day rule on every one to make them stronger,
To laugh is to love and to live, thus it helps one to love live for longer.
Laugh until you lay your last day with a smile and never in sombre.

Life's Precipitation

It comes down, in just the same way it dries up,
Fill it to the rim-edge of the plated cup,
Locate the derivation of such events,
As knowledge can often be the best form of defence,
Although Ignorance creates a blissful existence,
The engine is on, but cannot move without TRUTH pistons.


As it pitters, it patters- creating bigger bladders,
Continuously repeated until filled up,
They want to be a dog before being a pup,
It's heavy and all encompassing,
Creating difficulty when at the one crossing,
Looking left to right with effected sight,
Bliss has disabled an ability to detect a plight.


Whenever it pours and plies us with its presence,
How long will it be until the expected evanescence?
Resonance results from rehearsed remembrance,
Struggling to get a hold of a tame temperament,
As you are soaked by the drops of the season,
You laugh, whilst I see no reason to tease them,
Accept it in its fullest form, whenever it greets you,
But never drink from the same hand that feeds you.

The Ultimate Aim

Why all this bravado, when everyone knows the ultimate aim?
You claim to despise competing, but continue to play the game,
Unnecessary introductory formalities,
When in retrospect you’ve thought about your knees,
And the depth at which you may angle your approach,
It is hilarious how they act a butterfly, but love to be a CockRoach.

It’s a waiting game, because right now would be deemed hasty,
Even though every ion of their brain cells tells them the Black Pudding looks tasty,
However those that defy culinary restrictions become exiled,
Thought of as too gluttonous and or too wild,
Or maybe unjustified Jurisdiction needs revising,
But simultaneously mortality and natality are both rising.
What do you champion?

If you want to do that, Do it!
One’s actions should not be bathed in the waters of another’s fluid,
Thus if this present time seems right and it’s not too tight,
Take a calculated and educated chance,
Stop standing in the posture of another’s stance!
I despise hearing regurgitations,
Mirrored vocal chords taken from others, causing alien reverberations,
I want to talk to you, not the voice of the majority,
Insure your actions belong to you, as life cannot be refunded by warranty.

(Title Is Revealed At The End Of The Poem)

I can’t breathe!
Pupils penetrate my surroundings for tissue,
BUT
Only find my sleeve,
I can’t stop this incessant throat palpitation,
Determinedly continue,
BUT
In my ‘heart’ realise the amalgamation,
Wakefulness, Work and Weather,
Dangle my resilience at its tether.

One was struck down so spontaneously,
Unprepared for this back-tear-area to be graining me,
Yes! Rough and controlled is the feeling,
As you no longer manipulate bodily functions, and instead await healing,
Of which kind and which time is unknown,
I attempt to verbalise, but can only muster a groan,
Someone shouts “A croak may be more apt”,
As I embarrassingly and uncontrollably sneeze at others with no tact.

I have got so many things that I need to do!
But I keep getting disgusted looks-
As they tell me I’ve got that thing that rhymes with loo,
I DO?
Never would’ve thought it or even had a whiff,
Here I was thinking-
It’s normal not to be able to breathe, but have this rampant sniff,
So, to Mr and Mrs. Point-The-Obvious- I give my in-sincerest thanks,
I just want these UK Weather induced demons out my body,
and to have a breakfast where I can taste my Chicken franks.


Double layered or Scented – Which should I pick?
Oh! And if you haven’t guessed yet- Yeah I’m sick.