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Monthly Archives: July 2012

I don’t know


Inferiority

Opportunism

Culture

Greed

His reasons for expecting a bribe

 

Negotiation

Brinkmanship

Cunning

Vigilance

His methods of extracting the bribe

 

Realisation

Dilemma

Crisis

Resignation

My reasons for paying the bribe

 

Despondent

Failed

Base

Dark

I don’t know

 

BT

 
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Posted by on July 30, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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I am a believer


A man

I’ve never been here before
My breath catches
The sound races through me
Senses barely keeping up
The clock stops ticking
Words lock into rhythm
I can’t move
Then filled with rap fuel,
I eject into his sphere

My hands hold my mouth back
I know but can’t say
That I’ve touched heaven
Zapped by mighty power,
I rock with the angels
I close my eyes
that only see a man
When I know that I’ve met God

Thousands of Spirits
Jump out of dark suits
Screaming and shouting
Crying and sweating
Here we are one
We are in deep and free
He loves millions into his embrace
The music stops
I still believe

BT

 
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Posted by on July 26, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Lemn Sissay!


Lemn, a resident artist at the Southbank Center (London), is a poetic dynamite. I think he has changed my life as a poet forever. He is a great example of the healing, freeing and entertaining power of poetry. He is an embodiment of creativity (quite literally). His web page is full of goodies http://www.lemnsissay.com

Here are a couple:

 

Watch him give a poetic response to an interview question

 
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Posted by on July 25, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Muringo, You are a Special Girl


The Special Girl

Your classroom is dark
The witches are girls
Hissing at your bright laughter
They hate your spark that reflects
on their torn and stained souls
They charge at you
Wrestle you to the ground
And snatch the light from your eyes

Your world is now foggy
But you try to smile
Surely they must know
that you want to be friends
She responds in a grimace
Sharpening all your pencils
Like hope into trash
Puts your sharpener and eraser
with your future into her pocket
Fiercely rips your confidence with your shorts
This is not school
It’s the home of the devil

They say that you are ugly
You can’t use the toilet
Slapping the back of your head
And cutting into your palm
Your teacher is blind
and can’t see the mob
Stoning you with hatred
Your spirit is broken
Your neck hangs limp
You can’t lift your head
But your mother
has heard your whimper
Those who love you
have heard your whisper.

Muringo,
You are a special girl.
You are a great musician.

BT

 
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Posted by on July 23, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Age As An Excuse


Rules are barked
Slaps swing furiously
His patience is drained
by parental fear and ineptitude
So there is no reason or time to talk
He says at 24, I’ll understand his fury
I don’t need 10 years
to know that I’ve been wronged

At 24 I have something to say
The floor is grudgingly given
Esther, the MP finishes my lines
The one with a PhD holds my hand
The other asks that we walk on the beach
I understand and reject their message
that am 24 and have nothing to say

I raise the curtain at 44
When life is supposed to be an encore
I open my mouth and the clock stands still
They came here to hear me
Age will not be an excuse
Everything of me has a story to tell
I make and put out the words
that will outlive time

BT

 
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Posted by on July 16, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Why I Write (by me)


The King of Soul

The poet is a rebirth

I have yet another life

A surprise reincarnation

Big fears came to look me up

Sharp fear. Pulsating fear. Cold fear

A lesson that fear is an alien

had me intently looking and feeling

Naming fear, a first poem

 

Fear burst the dam

I live in a glorious flood plain

On the keyboard, I open a sluice gate

Occasionally I fling the gate wide open

Other days, its’ a slow deliberate swing

Putting out images and energy

Receiving pure and heavenly release

Beautiful words for ugly times

Rhyme for discordant times

Flow when things are blocked up

Always the power I may not have

 

Poetry mirrors my new face

Free, open and eternally brave

An exciting world with no borders

I’m the expert on all things

No one else feels or sees it like I do

Every day, poetry is my task

I will never be without a job

Poetry is why I learnt to write

Arranging words of deepest angst

There is no replica

Poetry is my heart print

 

Some words can’t be shot straight

They would knock a grown man down

He would give me a punch in the face

I weave words into a fitting cloak

Readers say that ‘there is something there’

Sometimes their hairs rise

Ovations and cheers have met my lines

Some poems are greeted by silence

That quiet, my constant mystery

Birthing a poem makes me whole

So I have new and special friends

Anto NeoSoul says am full of soul

I have no response for the King of Soul

My words live forever

I will never die

 

BT

(Why I Write by Kosal Khiev inspired this poem)

 
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Posted by on July 12, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Why I Write – Kosal Khiev (Guest Post)


Jailed at 16 for 15 years for gang banging and then deported from the US to Cambodia. Powerful stuff. He was on BBC radio (Outlook) this morning

 

 
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Posted by on July 12, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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