Sitting in the shadow of your believers
Hidden from the burning sun of your love
Immolation in your fire
Resignation to your desire
A pacifist of your ire
Seems an unsatisfactory fate to me
Excuse my absence, as I dance with the devil once more
-
Nostalgia #3
Nostalgia the guest arriving unexpected
Cowering yet pigeon chested
Memories cherished and time tested
Accruing interest over time, fighting the haze and commotion of lesser thoughts
Impressive in their claims
Famous to those that recall the tall tales of endless nights
Senseless tantalising trips down memory lane
Severing themselves from the fact, barely intact,
Bordering on lies, nostalgia serves pain dressed as pleasure
A memento mori
A tearful story
Wiping away it’s suffering
And smiling as you look into it’s eyes
-
Moon dreams
You
Me
And a moonlit night
Opened my eyes and it was only the moon and I
With jasmine on the wind…
-
HSBS
It’s 5.30 on a Thursday and there’s one thing on my brain.
Wine beers, banter cheers! Chatting shit until the room spins, necking gin until your puking. Open bar open season. Switch off your mind no need for reason.
Just heading down and I get collared. Mr Project Manager hollers that I have to see a client tomorrow.
‘There will be other agencies there too, we need you to represent the crew’.
Im thinking ‘Yeah safe.. another meeting where I sit in silence, while some suits start chatting finance and I’m wondering what the time is and why I’m even here.’
I mean ‘Cool I’ll see you in the morning but for now I’ll have a beer’.At 10am I stumble into Canary Wharf, completely dwarfed by the towers all around. Surrounded by the sound of shuffling grey suits and the impatient pounding of patent leather boots.
Altogether it was too much for my sore head to take, however the devil always wants his due and it was my bed to make.After a little getting lost and a pitstop for a coffee, It finally stands before me. HSBC.
Cutting to the chase, here we are now face to face, with a client called Marley, flanked by his three little birds.
Each an expert in their field he claimed, as was I apparently, allegedly, in web accessibility.
Unaware of this horrific oversell, the experts and stakes. My blasé attitude the night before was beginning to look like a mistake.
I didn’t know who these people were and why we’re even here. So thirsty for the beer, I made a pig’s ear of being prepared.
Overconfident in my assumption of the bit part I would play.
My ass now Marley would hand to me on a shiny silver tray.
‘So Hammez, today i want to know that you truly are the best.
The spotlight is on you now, I’m putting you to the test. Does your agency belong at the table? We’ll find out soon enough, now bend over and sorry not sorry but this is going to be rough.’
What the fuck? How the fuck? Surely this man is joking.
So I start to talk but I can barely breathe, oh dear god I think I’m choking!
My throat starts to close and bereft of all thoughts my mind begins to clear. An empty chamber with me in the middle surrounded by empty bottles of beer.
My knees were weak and my arms were heavy, but I’m no Eminem, so I passed the mic along and waited for the ground to swallow me.Marley laughed and I hated him.
My crew too who sat back to enjoy the view.
As the big red bus they threw me under, broke my spine in two.
If only they had warned me that this Marley’s got no chill. That he gets his thrills, from grilling you, until your smoked.
Perhaps I would have done my homework, perhaps I wouldn’t have choked.
But I should have cared enough to ask and put my ego in my pocket. Maybe I would have had the words and the power in me to stop it.
Instead of being so cocksure and ending up looking like a cock for sure, I might have actually prevailed.
But in the end I failed to prepare and ultimately I prepared to fail.
-
City of lights
In the city of lights where nothing is seen
Between the dust and the horns, the noise and the blinkers
No-one looks at each other with eyes of compassion
Hardened by the status quo of dog eat dog
Right and wrong etched into stone for all of time
We are one and they are the other
Humanity on our side and servitude for our brothers
Borrowing styles of former masters
Beating ourselves with the canes they left behind
Compassion at a premium, empathy a luxury not worth pursuing
‘If not us then someone else’,
Says the next door neighbour, in futile justification of a jurisprudence seeking to maintain a power-balance with the weights clearly on a single end of the scales.
Heavy pockets, heavy bodies but light of heart
There are no lights in the city of lights
Only fireflies lost in the dust
Burning one another in the hopes of finding the moon alone
-
A solitary drop
You say even a drop is a sin
So tell me this oh wise one
How else should I numb my faculties
When this reflection seems to me a stranger
Why should I feel the desperate pull of my heart, as it stands on a cliffs edge?
Nothing seems to have changed in all this time
Though I’m sure the marble slab said the same as it observed the chisels edge
Day by Day another piece falls underfoot
Not enough to stumble but still it stings
But still even a drop is a sin
-
Waves
The cotton sheets lay crisp between us
A glistening drifting strait between us
Along the shore
I see a setting sun between us
And all promises left adrift between us
The sky’s aglow in the colour of your eyes
Eyes gazing across the rift between us
Eyes that were once a bridge between us
Turning away
Saying goodbye
Now teardrops fill oceans between us
And I don’t know how to swim
The waves are far too strong between us
So my heart sinks and sinks and sinks
-
Fallen Monkey
Have I got a story to tell
About a monkey that fell
Deep in the midst of a slumber
Snoozing, legs asunder
His branch was weak
It started to creak
And then came a crack
From under his back
Splintering slow
He started to go
Sliding at first
Beginning to tumble
The poor branch groaned
As it started to crumble
He opened his eyes
And gasped with surprise
No branch within reach
He let out a screech
Greeting the ground with a thud
Face first hitting the mud
Far from amused
At what had ensued
Wiping the dirt from his face
To reveal the utter disgrace
All because his behind
Was too big for where he reclined
-
Moments
Sometimes I can’t catch a moment and months fly by
And then like dust in the wind it gets right in my eyes announcing it’s sudden arrival
Yet those moments in which I’m lost in thought about my love
Those are the strangest sweetest pains of all
At once the sensation of having no ground strong enough to catch the sinking feelings and then it catch me all the same
Bittersweet nostalgia of all yesterday’s laughter and love swirling above my head
Though time after time I see more and more that is not fragment of memory but a fictitious few seconds of a moment that never happened
I realise now that these fleeting seconds are hope
Hope of days to come when my love and I will chase the sun and leave the lonely nights behind
Those are my most cherished moments
-
The Bus stop
I’ll be waiting by the bus stop
Come find me if you can
Opposite the gift shop
Come find the lonely manIt’s Wednesday night once again
And that means date night you see
I’ll be waiting for my best friend
Look for me by our treeThe one on which we carved our names
Down by the waters edge
Where we once danced unashamed
Where you fell in to my arms outstretchedI’ll be holding autumnal flowers
As the summer has drifted away
Come soon though, it’s been 8thousand hours
And my beard grows greyer by the dayBuzz me in, I’ll be outside your gate
With two rollies in my pocket
It’s cold out here and getting late
And all I have left, is your picture in my wallet
-
Nostalgia #1 AR
To my left and right a blur of memories.
Your laughter; the glow of your cherry blossom skin that shimmers enviably in eternal sunshine.
The feather like touch of your angelic hands as they grasped mine.
The knowing that these will be mine to hold always.
A momentary warm feeling preceding the hollow hurt that predictably follows.
Grasping at memories only reaffirms how empty my world is without you my love.
-
Little Thief
Like a cloud threading through the breeze up high
Your hair dances in the wind with childish delight;
spread like wings catching the final glints of summer
You fly south to escape the winter and here I am,
huddled next to the crackling warmth of your memory
Patiently awaiting the return of the sun
Longing to see the light you stole away on your wings
-
In time
The following poem is a tribute to my grandmother, who I unfortunately only got to meet once in my life because she lived in Burma and it was nearly impossible at the time to visit. She passed before I could meet her again..
Eyes on the departure board
Tripping on the uneven curb
Kicked up dust ambles into amber hues of sunset
It hits me
As unexpected as the last time
Yet familiar
The same swell of feelings, teasing each other, daring each other to unleash all they remember
In that plume of dust, the curb vanishes
The phone in my hand morphs into a tattered passport
The train station dissolves in a blink and I’m now seated, looking over my shoulder at a hazy figure, gradually diminishing from view
Sweating in the heat of this rusting old car, I wipe my brow, for I must see
An acrid smell of petrol distracts for a moment; a moment too precious to lose, since the distance will only grow now
Fighting against the bumpy road, I crane my neck further still
I can see her hand gently waving, as she takes another weary step into the dust trail left behind.
The same gentle hand that was a stranger to me not long before this moment
The same hand that somehow became the safest, warmest and most giving that I can recall
Her hand
That had nothing to give me, yet gave me more than I deserved all the same
Her hand falls to her face, as her face falls into her shoulders
The weariness of age played it’s part
Yet there was more to this dejected posture and faltering of steps than my young mind would allow itself to believe
She knew this was the last goodbye
Time would not be kind enough to wait for her
For any of us
Alas I was naively convinced that time was immaterial
Just a vessel with man at the helm
A plane, through which we chose our paths.
As devoid of purpose as a road with no-one to tread it
I was mistaken
The humble warmth of her smile belonged to time, as much as it did to my own memory
My memories, belonging as much to time as to myself
For in time they will fade
The distance between the memory of her and the present will only grow now
More dust will be kicked up as time moves forward
The finer details of her face will be lost in the haze; her touch will remain but the texture of her hands will elude me
Chipped away by the chisel of time; all that will survive is her essence
The only eternal amidst the flecks of forgotten memories
Now the dust trail fades, as her silhouette is swallowed by a fast rising sun
I have to relent and turn away from this abrupt blaze of light
The sun draws closer and closer until it rushes past my face with a howl and suddenly my train arrives.
-
The morning
I’m on the bus this morning
Like every morning
Like everyone else…
I like to think I’m like everyone else
…on the bus this morning
I like to say it’s the morning
Though its way past dawn and
I think I’m gonna be late again.
Juxtaposed against the sunny sky, is my head this morning
A big old foggy mess, before the caffeine hit
See I’m just like everyone else
Like everyone else on the bus this morning
Barely blinking, head bobbing, mouth gawping
Ratty whilst racing to work this morning
Just trying to buy my freedom…
Freedom from the bus for one morning
From the gawping, bobbing fog for one morning
From turning like a cog for one morning
Freedom to be me.
-
Little one
You must have heard how rough it can be
How tough it may seem sometimes
How fragile we are, though born from the stars and how we’ve lost our shine
How there’ll be lies and deceit and dirt on your feet, from steps where you will stumble
How there’ll be lies you are told and words that are cold and times where you’ll feel humbled
But don’t give in, this is a game you can win and there are so many hands to guide you
Willing you on like words to a song
We are a chorus right behind you!
Afraid as well, you can probably tell, that we will never see you grow
So please don’t run we’ll have so much fun.
Please…just say hello.
-
Night Drive
Three in the morning and we’ve done it again
The same promise we secretly promised to break
Tiredness never reaches the eyes
Or it does but we choose to pretend
Holding her in my eyes, as if one glance away will steal her from me
Never breathing deep, as the butterflies won’t rest in my chest
Struggling to maintain mystery, as my mouth keeps giving away the rest
Walking her to my car a thought tickles me
Has anyone else ever noticed how her eyes bewitch under a street light?
Even In that dull orange glow
Somehow she steals the show
There go the butterflies again
Breathe now Hammez, breathe
Finally in my Bentley, or so it feels right now
We take the same left turn and ride into the night.
Never quite sure what my DJ has in store
Deep dirty beats or a cheese filled score
Ah, If only I was a chameleon man
I’d easily keep one eye on her and the other on the road
Stealing glances at red lights, never quite enough
Smiling, singing, teasing, giggling
My co pilot, my confidante
As I shift gears her hand holds mine
I’m no believer but surely this is a sign
Reaching her home
Reaching in for a kiss
‘Keep the lights off’ she insists
Undercover lovers
Reminiscing another night under the covers
I drive home wondering how there were ever any others
Ask me what it is she possesses
That has me lost in her caresses
I’ll start with my heart
You fill in the rest.
-
In my name
Cry for me, my hands are tied
Bathed in blood I didn’t ask for
Ashamed of my name taken in vain, tainted with stains and it pains me
Abused anew day by day,
One says ‘vote for me, I will fight for his name’
Another cuts a throat for me, in my honor many has he slain
Ever ready to fight
With harrowing words like bullets in flight
Messing up lives in my name, dressing up lies in a song
Though the words never came from my tongue
There is no righteous nor pious, merely decadent engorging on spiritual word play from within
Defiance is stoned as a sin
A sin, what is a sin? Staking a claim on common sense under the pretense of morality
Clenched in this fist of morality lays the power to determine ones own fate in mortality?
Woe be to thee who falls under their banner of infidelity
For you do not know my name
Nor can you lay claim to understanding my power nor my fame
Looking up you see the strings
I’m the one now dancing and they are the ones who sing
-
A windy day
A leaf
Detached
Swept up
Powerless
In flight
Dizzy
Gazing down
Sighing
Uncoupled
Homeless
-
The Tavern
Oh how slowly does he pour my drink!
Lest I sear my throat to soon
And slumber through the new moon
The barkeeper keeping me at bay
For the pleasure is not in rushing
But in the leisure of the stay
Nor does he fill the glass
Swells lapping safely beneath the brim
Tavern lights tauntingly twinkle the empty crystal
Unsatisfied I push the chalice back
He holds my gaze
He holds my gaze
He holds my gaze
Floundering I draw the chalice back
Raising a toast
Or a white flag, I’m not so sure
He interrupts
‘To good health Ghafoor,
savour the sweet,
relish the heat
Make not haste but merely saunter
Keep your eyes on me not on the decanter
To good health Ghafoor’
His stinginess in the pour
Baffling for I knew not what for
Yet he was much wiser than I
That much I cannot deny
For here I sit
Struggling to take a sip
It was but one drop
But that one drop was a river
Barely breathing my lungs fill
The barkeeper takes the glass, forseeing the spill
‘You cannot traverse this stream yet you seek the ocean’
‘Seeking my peace though you drown in commotion’
‘A faithless heart yet you claim devotion’
With eyes growing heavy
Burdened by the shame my shoulders shuddered to bear
Waining before the barkeepers glare
The temple I entered now becomes my tomb
The tavern lamps slowly dance into the gloom
unsent draft messages 