Sunday 30 October 2011

awkward.

who's the strongest in a room full of poets?
whoever doesn't give a fuck about feelings.


Thursday 27 October 2011

a page from my notebook three years ago.

It's like surfing
Being on the firing line.
where the light helps.
Looking for something
only to find something else.
It's power.
It's slapping someone you hate
It's like winning Jenga.
It's rolling a double six
It's like faith in strangers
It's like a kinder surprise.
To grab the mic,
moving it to the side,
Feeling like a professional.
Its like being strip searched,
and enjoying it.
It's like you've earned it.
It's like going on holiday
without paying for it.
It's like being finished
in mortal Kombat
It's like coming back after
a night out and finding
a five pound note.
It's like "eeeeeyup".

Tuesday 25 October 2011

truth.

The roots
that we knew were uneven
have deepened
warped a view
that grew tilted
No coincidence you'd see him
different.
And see him you did.
It was a given he was gifted,
not one for relationships,
love was a challenge
and nothing was promised
so when he betrayed you
he could at least say he was honest.

He sowed his seeds
but you've watered them
you're looking after the love
that he abandoned
instead of nursing
your cut-off branches
that have limited your feelings
feeling cut-off and cut-short.
these feelings always
have you reach for the wrong man.
They build kingdoms for you to live in
but these castles are made out of sand
as soon as your feet are settled
the kingdom crumbles just like you planned.
we shouldn't be surprised they ran.
They don't get it.
they don't see the beauty.
It's not for the untrained eye to see.

I do. It's in little looks, jokes and big laughs.
Personally, I mean you know me.
I like my women like I like my tea.
Strong, hot and bitter.
She fits the criteria perfectly
and before you go "oh Sean,
Sean you handsome, debonaire,
suave, well-endowed, Spider-man-esque
Better than harry baker at scrabble,
friendly neighbourhood awesome guy-
why don't you ditch the tree analogy/
metaphor/whatever. Try it on with her!
your poetry is depressing enough as it is"
Well, thank you first of all.
Secondly,
I did. I tried. Honest. I asked awkwardly,
and told friends my feelings like secrets
and was annoyingly persistent
what i didn't realise is that she needed friendship
what i was doing was calling myself the greatest snake in a snake pit.
The last thing she wanted to do is get bit.
Or just kill the snake.
Or whatever.
Either way. I learnt my lesson.
As for her. She's getting there.
she's my favourite woman in london
and is dire need of a relocation
I look forward to seeing her on vacation.






Sunday 23 October 2011

Saturday 15 October 2011

Time flies.

The hours slip quick
they feel like minutes
my time is spent as if
it's going out of fashion
and spent on friends
who refuse to reimburse
I reach for the best
but my arms are too short
something deep down
has gone wrong
I know I could do this before
raggedy, my material is old
I've got words for my friends
don't rest then expect saved progress
i had an assumption the game
would of came with a pause button
but it's not a game it's an art form
so for true progression
movements must be made
with honest motives
what I'm trying to say is
don't get complacent
my breath was wheezing
took a break to make it easier
but here i am too scared to jump
in my throat there is a lump
and it strangles new ideas
The schemes for getting paid
don't satisfy me, if i don't receive
what i need to make me happy
I need to move on on my journey.
Like I've done so many times before
But I don't want to run away anymore
I want to run towards and come across
real friends and new movements, already,
I've surpassed the past I used to love
yet the sinking heart doesn't stop
perhaps I'm afraid of what I'll become
Of finally settling in
because when it comes to rhyming
I really don't need a reason
or a cause to believe in
I'm not here for achievements
It just fits it just makes sense
and if i can focus and progress
maybe my thoughts wont be a mess
I wont be scared of success.


you heard what i said, fuck it!

I live London and dream American
We can't beat our own government
when we have no army to stop them
cliche it seems but it's unity we need
became obvious in the riots
instead of attacking the police
we were at our own throats
burning our own cars and
inflicting our own scars.
Every advert is focused on dividing us
I'm tired of trying to be better than everyone else
we'd rather take than ask for help
it's said hip hop is bigger than it ever was
but it's obvious to see it's not what it was
artists these days are just quicker to sell out
rap something about making it and hope
the real songwriter will write a catchy enough hook
for it to become a hit.
and don't forget the strings.
The search for fame, now a staple in the game
fuck it.