NaPoWriMo Day 3 – Flashforward

I’m a tad behind having been a busy bee. Nonetheless I wrote day 3’s offering yesterday on day 5.

I got a homebody with a journeyman’s soul,

I’m always on the run even when my pace is slow.

So let’s go back, half a decade ago

unwind to a time when I were in vogue.

At the top of my game, yet I still got relegated.

I was in love but it got cut short,

she wasn’t outta my league

she just played another sport.

Cos y’know only fools play by the rules,

you thought that I could be a star but I shined because of you.

Maybe that’s my fault, I should have shined just for me,

but I loved the angel too

so I was shining for three.

It’ll never be the same

cos I can lose the weight

and regain momentum.

But when you’ve loved and lost

you still don’t forget em.

So I could travel the world

– getting drunk on a memory.

I never wanted the hoes,

just a shot and some Hennessy.

Double-barrelled casks? I ain’t trifled.

Cupid swapped arrows for an Uzi

cos you’d taken the Michael…

the Conrad, and even Bob’s Burgers

with a red neck and brown nose for taking orders.

Then I became a chef, how I laugh at the irony.

Cooking up a storm with a pinch of what might’ve been.

You had all the ingredients but you swapped it for a Pot Noodle,

now you’re in hot water

fuck the Bombay Badboy.

There’s more fire in my eyes than a billion Mike’s dropped.

Cos this Fat Man goes nuclear when he’s put in a tight spot.

See the passion of my soul

I’m the hip hop Prometheus,

I stole a gift from the Gods

now I’m continuing to pay for this.

Now I’m working in theatre,

and I’m hitting my renaissance.

I may be fickle for fame

but I don’t want the things that they want.

A platform and marketing is all that appeals,

and a family sized trailer called a Heart on Wheels.

Now I know you cut the breaks,

but I’ve no intention of crashing.

I hope this flashback will flash forward

to a day where I’m laughing…

at some dumb shit, someone special’s cute smile…

but it won’t be you…

I’ve known that for awhile…

NaPoWriMo Day 2 – The Balance of Eternity

For day 2 I’ve attempted both the Local Gems and the official prompt simultaneously with a Petrarchan Sonnet relating to the question of how to find meaning and ancient knowledge in a world that has forgotten itself and it’s truths.

Souls burst from darkness in neon cascades

but are we rodents in a cosmic trap?

Third eye blind, Gaia wept like weirwood sap.

False realities rise while truth’s star fades.

Meaning was lost in exploitative trades.

Auras applaud – and begin with one clap

is rebirth’s renown a most lucid nap?

The universe, … a dream that never wades.

Love – the compass of celestial travel.

Mouths hushed silent, emboldened hearts agape.

Enlightenment upon firefly flutters.

Judgement is a Promethean gavel…

grant critics nor doubt Mjölnir, be happy.

For life … is a sentence … blessed … with … stutters…

NaPoWriMo 2019/Day 1 – Recipe for Disaster

So a little precursor for day 1.

I stand on the precipice of some amazing opportunities but a combination of depression and witnessing the pointless cruelty of someone stifling the creativity and growth of a loved one while also affecting a potentially beneficial project have gotten me royally fucked off. Jaime Lannister may have said “by what right does the Wolf judge the Lion?” but a larger question for our society is “by what right does the fly hinder the workhorse?” For a fly knows nothing but the stench of shit and hindering those that are doing or have the potential to be doing good work.

Anyway. Here’s the piece:

Take a pinch of reality – oh shit… the whole cup

with the wisdom of Solomon to ask for none.

For knowledge without power is lacking in agency…

I have no taste for fuelling falsehoods flagrantly.

Is a pigeon stand-offish when the ledge is spiked?

I carry the message that’s needed, not the one that is liked.

Many are stupid, and many more crueller…

they sip Arbor Gold, gallivanting to stupor.

Bereft in agony, for my loved ones oft afar…

my heart remains open while life is ajar.

The ingredients are gourmet

but the pan is rusted.

I’m brilliant, alone and depressed

but is it me that’s busted?

News

Hey everyone, I’ve got some good news to share.

I’ll be embarking on a disabled directors course at Royal Exchange in the final week of September in which myself and 5 others will learn skills in directing theatre.

I’ve received my proof copy of Litany Of Varied Experiences, my publisher mentioned online sales ahead of a print run and there have been some enquiries so I have passed this on to see what can be done to get this new collection to as many people as possible.

Finally, the Buzzin Bards events have been going well and I’ve begun to add writing themes each month. The next shall be dealing with identity, culture and what Manchester means to us.

Aquatic Stardust

Aquatic Stardust

Aquarian Aquarius,

everyone be hearing us.

What an exciting life you lead,

cosmic superhuman centipede.

I’m Centric G pause for the D:

ejaculating antiquating – even thoughts dilapidated.

You should go through twice

extinguish anguish from your life

cosmic zombie souls are sliced.

Universal detoxification

electrocuting nation-notions

rubbing Atlas, struggled rolling

infinitesimal scrolling.

CTRL ALT DELETE

on an overlooped repeat

of every idea we can infernally excrete.

Firing Hades,

call me maybe?

Rae Jepsen with Jetsons,

Bicurious George sliced through Jetsam

and Flotsam shall blossom

from all the things we’ve forgotten

from top to the bottom.

Queefing lies from the Metrix,

while I’m high watching Netlix.

Separate one from the Zero

sublet from Herculean heroes.

What is a God

and what is a Terry Flap?

Pterodactyl tearing tracks up,

Buzz light the Zoot

cos Andy’s next – Zucc

everyone and Zucc

everything like Jon Lajoie,

knowing nothing

bout the beginning

of True Runes being.

Sui-ko-den,

and I’m back from the dead

like Gremio, screaming out your stereo.

Luc’s Wind Rune stayed true forever though,

cos what else could you ever know?

How can you judge war

as a spiritual non-combatant yo?

I loved them games,

and I live for kills:

but FPS games I’m bereft of skills.

But both has to be a concept

as consoles land a suplex

and it’s wrestling in vests,

all’s a work

but the next

choice that you step

onto the world…

‘s Cosmic Justice

staged courts are a must in

– for all life to be bustling

or else sociologically combusting

from universal abundance

of choice to be trusted

enacted, with more sting than a buzz kill.

Honey-looping through custard,

Tubby chasing through Worcester-

Shire dressed as Hobbits

all addicted to Bop Its.

Slap it and twisted,

got more logs than Limp Bizkit

eating TESCO’s own biscuits

through Brexit Gnomes excess

into a Noseybonk Nexus.

But it’s ok to have no thrills,

that’s your choice:

I took both pills

now I’m stuck in the MATRIX,

aware of the reality yet struggling to shake it.

Lucid dream wake this,

as Shakespeareans shake fists

into another timeline

_ every choice has 3 lifetimes.

So no need to be rushing,

Take your time and press buttons;

like Sheen,

on the Wayback Machine.

Your intellect will intersect

where internet can search for skets

but that ain’t for me;

ain’t nobody tainting thee

stay peeled as thine’s potating thee.

Freestyle over gotta go,

man’s soul eternal flows

resurrecting from infernal blows

is the only way this world can flow,

I be feeling wilful yo

but nonetheless I gots to go

before I’m smarting,

bury me a G R R Martin

against any punkass pirates starting.

Make your own choice,

Ushiku is yours

– the gift from God

is a gift to from all worlds.

So caio, chai betta

stop me before I start to get clever

I’ll resuit for reshoots

as reality reloops.

Good music comes from people who are relaxed

so I shall unfurl these eclipses,

Extract S from ellipi

… hell if I know,

one from t’other

roll up for galactic snuggles

blepping puggles

underneath covers of cuddles.

So now I’ll finally Skadoodle

turn your dicks into noodles,

light up the room like your Paddy the Yoodle.

News Update – June 23rd 2018!

Hey everyone. Just checking in with some awesome news.

 

Firstly, Local Gems have decided to publish Litany Of Varied Experiences, which I’m super happy about because it was an emotionally exhausting yet necessary endeavour to put to pen the most horrific and heartbreaking year of my life. So getting something out of the catharsis is always good.

 

I’ve also begun taking Mandarin lessons, so I’m looking to link that into the Agape in Isolation project as I love how it’s a language where tone and meaning go hand in hand, which as a performer I just find absolutely inspiring. Speaking of that project, my friend Anthony Sykes will be curating the logo for that. You can check out his page here at Developer Ant.

 

Finally, Local Gems and myself will be collaborating on a series of workshops, readings and an anthology based in Manchester called Buzzin Bards which will take place at Droylsden Library. The library also informed me that Manchester Metropolitan University will be investing in a specialist Poetry Library that’s open to both students and members of the public, and have requested my support and involvement in that endeavour too.

 

Buzzin Bards

 

It’s been one hell of a year from where I were last year, but I’m glad things are looking better and my hard work is paying off.

There’s No Place like… Home?

If it feels like a home it’s a home,

I’m from here but I still feel alone.

But I see you feel different,

so fuck racist dissidents…

and feel free to call it your own.

 

 

Intruder!

Burglar!

Insult-hurdler,

loutish gammon

and Stella pint-swirler.

The rule of law should be uniform,

but like the spy cops you’ll just slip it off,

when it suits…

oh how Lush,

as you scum bullrush

the very same bobbies that you kiss by the tush.

Friend or foe?

Do you even know?

Just some British born Biffers on Peruvian snow.

 

 

If it feels like a home it’s a home,

I’m from here but I still feel alone.

But I see you feel different,

so fuck racist dissidents…

and feel free to call it your own.

 

 

Tommeh ain’t a patriot,

he’s more pips than an apricot…

with a false dichotomy of the concept of nationhood.

You don’t even speak the language yourself

it’s “our” not “are”,

you won’t get far

if you’d struggle to even read the Daily Star.

 

 

If it feels like a home it’s a home,

I’m from here but I still feel alone.

But I see you feel different,

so fuck racist dissidents…

and feel free to call it your own.

 

 

You don’t read much so you may have missed it,

but check out the feats that The Scum had listed:

The Shard is Qatari with an Italian architect

while a Greek designed the mini, oh superior intellect!

Angel of the North? Made by a “remoaner”,

with EU funding no less – a misnomer.

Windsor Castle – how that makes you look a Norman

We have Gormley, you’re just gormless.

No taxation, just restoration

Parliamentary contracts to the American nation.

They also own Merlin, you can keep his beard

while The Smiler was built by Gerstlauer.

Nessie is fictional – much like your claims,

but the people of Scotland mostly voted remain.

 

 

If it feels like a home it’s a home,

I’m from here but I still feel alone.

But I see you feel different,

so fuck racist dissidents…

and feel free to call it your own.

 

 

If you don’t respect the law – I feel you should leave

so Tommeh and his gammonati will not be bereaved.

Same goes for the Tories who argued for sovereignty

but wish to treat the law as their personal property.

The law should be Universal,

like that studio in Florida.

Not a drug for dispersal

at the hands of the horrible.

 

 

If it feels like a home it’s a home,

I’m from here but I still feel alone.

But I see you feel different,

so fuck racist dissidents…

and feel free to call it your own.

Bonus Poems announcement:

In order for the Litany of Varied Experience to TRULY be a VARIED EXPERIENCE everything must be experienced 😊

Both what is, and what isn’t. What could be, and what could never be. Even what should never be, often is.

But that’s ok. Cos that means you can learn from others and their experiences, even if you do not deem them correct or even it they are not correct. Because ultimately correctness in allowing others to correct themselves as they grow. Life is a symmetric experience both being and not being everything – all at once!

For that reason it is only fair and loving to allow others see things through the eyes of others, even if those others have experiences or ideas they could share that you personally jar with.

I’ll be collaborating with Grim on more poems for Litany of Varied Experiences to have a bonus Tour Edition while also truly open sourcing this concept in a sequel with poems sourced on WriteOutLoud and other online poetry sources to find the best poems that represent life and how it’s experienced and the ideas we have about that.

But to both prove the exception to and be the rule, I shall share this poem which is both.

I’m thinking at the speed of thought,

for all that choice has wrought.

For everything must be and not be

in order for anything to be or not be.

That, is the question?

Rhetorical notions of Coptics and Potions,

everything’s part of the game.

Now do we factory reset

over the things we regret?

Or do we just

be?

As that’s the only way to

prove that love’s served on a silver platter.

I guess we’re all sweetheart bastards in the eyes of the beloved.

But the most loved

is thee ❤️❤️❤️

Cos everything means nothing if nothing can mean anything 😊🔮☝️😘

NaPoWriMo Day 30: Making History

I used the official prompt of an interesting fact and began with the story of how I took a loose brick from Emperor Hadrian’s imperial palace at Villa Adriana, and from there created this final piece of my Litany Of Varied Experiences.

 

Amongst the cascades of antiquity
where Villa Adriana resides.
This erstwhile artist wanderer
built castles from the sands of time.

I took a brick from his imperial palace
so I could build my own.
While I purchased another from Berlin,
alas that wall was torn.

I engorge myself on history,
as civilisations rise and fall.
Yet I shall build my empire
from remnants of them all.

I’ll take the best
and leave the rest,
that’s always been my mantra.
If loose lips sink ships,
I pour from a titanic decanter.

For I know nothing
but truth itself,
at least truth as I see it.

Many people study history,
but me?
I choose to be it.

So come along on this journey,
and follow my many-bricked road.
As I tap my heels,
beg, borrow and steal…
for there’s no place like home.