Finders Keepers

I found this wallet once,
It had so money cards, I felt like a financial dunce,
I kicked this wallet- all the way around the corner,
Emotion-less- with so many cards, the owner would be a RICH mourner,
I took the cash, split the rest with a couple of my no-longer-around bredrins,
I later came to understand myself and the situation, to be completely fledgling.

At the time I thought myself an Alan, Richard or even Donald,
Ignorant to the plight that waited, at the bottom of my story's funnel,
Flabbergasting how fast being a tycoon became being a tight fool!!
Gone!
Being a hundredaire only lasts so long,
Months passed, and I went from Richard to Glazer,
Only finding friendship in my stupidly expensive blazer,

Boxing Day brought about my birthday,
I was given gifts in the most special way,
Money!!
I invited so many 'friends' and some whom weren't too acquainted,
So happy my smile appeared permanent as if it were painted,
Maybe too happy, as it came to pass,
Thieves do not only arise out of grass,
Snakes rattle right in front of your face,
My Birthday bumper was taken right out of my room,
RAGE!! I accosted every single person I knew.

Not one to throw attachment and belief on superstition,
But one has to consider the theory of karma in such a situation,
I took from some one and only months later had taken from me,
Up until now, I know not the answer of who snatched the food from my tummy,
And I still keep many of the same 'friends',
I kicked the wallet and stole as a means to an ends.
But I could've picked and swallowed another man's Beans and eggs,
Moral being whilst I was a victim to someone malicious and conniving,
I didn't stop to think, what I possibly took from someone else striving.

Be careful whose wallet you choose to kick,
You might not like the reverse response of it.
KARMA IS INDEED A B***H!!

Hot Water

I like hot water,
The way it feels when it surrounds your body,
Regardless if it is as cold as a lonely alter,
Or so hot, the sun rays penetrate my lobby.
Hot water is unalterable- It always feels the same,
This feeling couldn't be bought at all, my emotions are never tame.
I sit for hours and no-one can infiltrate,
Aside from your wanted one, sweat profuse in a way only the gym could make.

I love hot water,
The way it warms me up, feeling shielded,
Stability is only a quarter,
No dirt- my alter-ego is what the tub has yielded,
Toe tops, finger tips, every sense is heightened,
Oxymoronically the weight of the heart is lightened,
I release in the hot water as I feel at ease,
Crass but cradled as I metaphorically fall to my knees.

Still warm, still hot- This is still the feeling I first got,
Stop this fake support! Looking imbecilic like a pre-mudded plant pot,
He wasn't born in this, he just came here and he got it,
Mentally regurgitating this warm water for one that is amniotic,
I hate Hot water, for how it has made me weak,
Skin wrinkled when I long-soak from head to feet,
This hot water was a loss of limbo temporarily,
Now it is time to get out and dry-step towards what was scaring me.

The Mind

Strange how the mind reinterprets ideas don't u think?
Strange how I ate, but you insist I had a drink.
Many cannot mind their own,
Many cannot avoid carbon, and hence become a clone,
We endure a legion of manner-less nations,
Bore from medial mental manifestations,
It's all very strange!
Replacement is chosen over the option to rearrange.

Exaggeration is naturalised if your standing is swayed,
Didn't you know, we were crafted and not just made?
Strangely I can tip toe but I can't crawl,
Strangely I can slate, but I do no good at all,
Mind over matter is the trite telling,
But back home in Black Rock, there's still yelling,
It isn't strange anymore when it becomes unjust,
Babies born- mind says love - reality says lust!

Strange how one can believe THEIR truth,
Strange how from this- I'm extracted, but you see a tooth!
Many cannot see past next week's omnibus,
Many cannot understand experience, past their monitors,
Thus you must understand this instability is not innate,
It is instead duped into craniums through the Medias we create.

Steps

As he step into realms of better but bitter conformity,
Ignorant to what belies and relies on him, in fullest enormity,
"We do what we have to do to get by!!"
A twitch of a smile, but still a tweak of a sigh,
Has he stepped forward a good few steps?
Or shuffled his cowardly legs away from what was REALLY next?
Arggggh!!
I despise the yellow walls that surround him,
Misunderstand the mindset that confounds him,
But understand the life circle he treads, as if I am a-round him.


He continues his graft sporting the occasional laugh,
But these new ones do not know him, not even a half,
The gritted teeth of fakery,
The swollen sore facial dimples of unauthentic joy,
Asked how he is, he replies "I enjoy what they are making me",
Automatic as a car- possessing less choice than a child's toy.


Dreams become visions, visions become blurred,
Sight is lost, deaf becomes you, and aspirations are never heard.
He could have got there! if he really strived...
In fact he still can- but one must not live a lie!
He stepped in to the herd, thus only he can move those same shuffling feet,
But to be honest, no one can ever help to move a paralysed sheep.


You control the steps you take,
Therefore be real to the life you make!

I'M TRYING!

I’m trying but you still cannot see,
I’m trying to be the best I can be,
I’m trying but my voice remains unheard,
I am instead muted such as that of a hunted herd.

I am not aimless with my illustrations,
Albeit that this creativity is fuelled by frustrations,
Irony becomes apparent in the finality,
Creation out of frustration, but frustration is the ending reality,
As words go unread,
Voice has nothing said,
And my physicality is dead,
Dead as my other attributes as one continues to fruitlessly strive,
Morale-bruising blackened like the skin of a banana fruit as I sit in strife.

I’m trying! but that which others see as my successes, I see as failures,
Trying to emancipate myself from mental slavery like the wailers,
I scream in the face of success!
All but crying in attempt to progress my quest,
BUT..
Success turns its’ back on me,
However I continue to coarsen my throat in plea.

I’ve tried but you did not see,
I tried but there is no best part of me,
I tried but my voice will never be heard,
I’ve tried but I have to succumb to the fact that my attainment is absurd!

It's A Madness!!

It’s A Madness!

Shuffling, shifty eyes questioning the measure of the skies,
Comprehension becomes lost in the iris of idle eyes,
It’s a madness!
How one’s pain can be transposed as gladness,
Smack this,
But don’t you ever lose scruples and to your life attach it.

Confusing my eccentricity for comedy,
Refusal to observe the disguised depression and see Roach commonly,
No one knows,
And like a perplexed phenomenon it irrevocably grows,
Why do you make that your choice of logic,
Only to incessantly apologise for dilemmas deemed rhetoric,
Madness, Insanity, loss of stability,
If one denies any of the above symptoms, may you choke on your dishonesty!

It’s a Madness personified,
But a rat-race exemplified,
Zealously finding an exit out of the box,
Desperately finding an access path to the cheese!
Hunting such as an English fox,
Evading ending up on one’s knees!
It would seem we are all susceptible to slipping into the abyss,
Thus, I take on the role of reality artist, as I choose to poetically paint this!

Is it Yours or Mine?

Is it Yours or Mine?

Is it yours or mine?
I say Halal but you opt for Swine,
Instigation of our present situation,
Different levelled standing was the implementation,
Self inflicted?
Or pertaining to a cotton coloured wish-list?
We walk in this concrete illusion,
as borrowers; to be owners would mark collusion,
Identifying the authentic ownership creates more conundrums,
To qualify is to be part of the supreme ones?
But.......who are Supreme?
How about those that contributed as the rebuilding team?


Consuming craft, culture and cooking relevant to your mind,
But alien to your tongue,
Attributed through experience as one climbs another foreign rung,
However, a given one?
Given when scouted to become brothers to THEIR sisters, over to our father land as a son,
WE gave to YOU, thus can we have a little reciprocation,
Appreciation?
Reparation?
Or just a little return?
Still lost in translation- YOUR speech I cannot learn!
And you ignore mine,
It would seem we will only ever converse from behind.


As much as you are lost,
Understand, We too are bewildered whilst we pray to your cross,
Doing as we were told,
Reminiscent!
Moving as we were sold,
The past is easier repressed,
When present society doesn’t still show signs that depress,
Thus to move forward takes admittance on both behalf’s,
Is it YOURS or MINE?
There is blame on both OUR parts.