Sweet Shop

Sweeet Shop I am the pearl of insulin upon the sliver of steel, Clear and pungent. I can take you back to the days when you roamed in the grass Like a freshly emerged butterfly Until your body refused to obey and you had to come indoors To blood tests, syringes and Pampers. But now,…Read more Sweet Shop

Chasing the Stars

The moped's engine clattered and clapped its way up the tarmac. The roads were bare of human activity and the derelict carcasses of buildings stood uninviting, amidst fields of rocks and rubble. We turned left and as the rocky hills rose up on either side of us, the streetlights ceased to exist. Our helmets threw…Read more Chasing the Stars

Ghosts

  They glide like ghosts In the morning mist Exhaling their way through the streets Creeping up on you Catching you unaware Spinning and weaving their magic As they rattle your mind It's like you're in a video game And they, the reckless characters Who seem to do with everything with such ease But their…Read more Ghosts

My Grandmother’s Kitchen

My Grandmother’s Kitchen The numb stone floor thuds against my shoe As my fingers graze the stained wood-mix worktops. I can see Mum searching for plastic bags In the shed that I used to play in. Triumphant, she comes in clutching An array of cobalt, green and white. “We will be leaving soon,” she says,…Read more My Grandmother’s Kitchen

Sonali

I see Malli standing at the water’s edge Mouth open in shock as the foam of the waves attacks his soles His arms tight around his chest. Nikhil is seated in the sand. An eagerly dug hole holds him prisoner. Golden grains Trap his tanned arms. He looks up at his brother, who’s accusing the…Read more Sonali

Riding Strange

Riding the train to Osterley, The cuffs of my shirt dig in, Unsettled and weary of the Unnatural position I was in.   This strange crisp shirt, This odd little tie, These awkward lapels, These ankle biting shoes.   It was all very strange for me. Was I wearing it right? Did I look the…Read more Riding Strange

Tell Me What I Shouldn’t Do

Tell me what I shouldn't do So you won't term me a terrorist Or some crazy extremist   I get up every morning And just like you I groan at the thought of another long day   Then its the rush hour traffic for me And you; trains are packed People are tired and whacked…Read more Tell Me What I Shouldn’t Do

Something Which I Like

Have a read of this:  Reading in a Caribbean accent would help it have more of an effect: By: Linton Kwesi Johnson Wen mi jus come to Landan toun Mi use to work pan di andahgroun But workin pan di andahgroun Yu dont get fi know your way around Inglan is a bitch Deres no…Read more Something Which I Like

The 8:18 (Delayed: 8:24) To Liverpool Street

I saw a man on the train I saw a man on the train Words revolving in his brain His aged head bowed down Upon pages which told a story More ancient than him. But as the train shuddered to a halt He shook himself from The calm voice inside his head A moment of…Read more The 8:18 (Delayed: 8:24) To Liverpool Street

Silent Summer

Silence. Save for the soft hum Of traffic in the distance, A reassuring reminder of humanity's existence. Quiet clickity-clackaty footsteps Hurrying home at an hour At which even the thieves are sleeping. The fear darkness brings, merely a deception. Figures in the distance, Only dustbins left out for the morning When the silence will be…Read more Silent Summer

Allow Me To Live

Half a human is what I am As I lie in bed. Devoid Of my blessed medicine. Casually I had considered it An annoying intruder, Its bitter pills or sharp needles. The constant vigilance. An overpowering damper On sparkling emotions But whilst it ran me ragged It was all keeping me alive Allowing me freedom…Read more Allow Me To Live

A Small Request

I wonder if after all these bills and years of legislation, Coupled with years of attempted integration, If you now see me as a human Rather than an irritating confusion When I walk past you in the street Do you see me as a person or are you just discreet In the way your mind…Read more A Small Request