Touching On A Little Bit Of Everything #11 – Poetry inclines overtime

This is my last post on the House of Horus until we move onto nicer better aesthetic things. But an archive no less. Thank everyone for reading, encouraging and sharing my shit.


I think about when I started this creative endeavour. What was it all for? Angst reverberated in my chest, I slept bothered with no aim to alleviate my pain. Wallowing in dejection, even when I realised a goal or finished a post. It almost seemed as if I was chasing a goal that was running from me, another stride only birthed more pride to weigh me down on this choice. I wanted to articulate that pain in the form of a voice, the inclination to shout like the silence of Grime’s sights of culture and the violence the media chose to focus on. Hence, this is where I am coming from. The eternally bothered, weighed down by society, history and intimidated by what if. It persists to belittle me, though foresight for a path to greatness is on the ropes. Swaying with dope, the monumental shifts of mentality between smokes burn the flame within to keep growing. Which ignites willpower in me, to achieve and subdue the pain that people wired like me have no choice but to entertain.

But I questioned how for the longest if I am not at my strongest how do I deal with your and my own pain? The impression through words, works, the things we do and say, altering the brain to ease and brighten up someone’s day. To add to someone’s being, even as a momentary form of happiness that will fade or a life lesson they can apply to become greater. To detract from the overwhelming sadness that practices darkness too well. I want to make people happier, more understanding, feel represented and feel greater within themselves, so I write and intend to create things to empower them in those ways. When I realised that is what I wanted, I decided some things I write do not have to be extended articles or essays. “Deep” or “intellectual” shit, glorified for the intellectual property but never applied. Sometimes I love writing poetry, I ask for a phrase or a concept and piece together a poem for someone. I now have a catalogue of about 300 poems, my own and for others, I want to share with you guys, but gradually. 

So yeah, here are the poems from 2016-2018. I really wanted to share them, because I don’t think they deserve to be sold in a sense. It’s for the sake of people reading them and the happiness and wonder they can gain. I hope to release another collection at some point next year, and make it a constant theme alongside my writing. If you do enjoy them and want to donate in any way, the details are in the about me page. I hope you enjoy some of these poems,






Wait For It

Imagine life was like an hour glass, and a quarter of your expected life has passed

As you dwell on your path and others grasp at the idea of you living delayed by this game we play

The long wait, a period I’ll forever wait, as for most of that grained time I lined up defeat

Grinding each atom of divine patience, into panic and a tendency to hate, this destructive wait

Hence I hide my face and lay in wait, preying on the same future she has

I creep and I crawl, for it is easy to tread, on polite sermons of the undead

Losing it is a threat, I have kept my sanity, denying a purge of vanity

The cost of patience hosts a calming fragrance blooming one into submission

My visions for life frightens the patient, building destruction somewhere latent

Achievement must be a Flash, like the excitement of youth

So one day I can face and tell Mother the truth


2016, written for and by myself


The Shallow End

Dully I soaked the pressure like a sponge

I succumbed to denial peeling a grudge

Revealing my fears of the grandiose above

I want to scrape the sky like the feeling of love

For that which passes lasts forevermore

By the shores of those who won’t ignore

The spectacular achievements of those before

Imploring action, I’m a fraction of greatness

Ambition is a daring statement

Wondering whether time will wave you on

Craving a renaissance of your pros

Though cons prolong a possible swan-song

You haven’t started, you think, since

You left pink mattering innards of creation

Hoping your wave won’t sink into pools it patents

How special will I be, heeding vagrancy?

Meeting complacency, debating ways I can see

To be free, a thing for itself

Objectively dealing with cards being dealt


2016, for and by myself


Atom’s Ambition

Wanting to play a piano on the moon

The key being instrument to make room

Decorating life like the essence of death

Hearing cries of London streets instead


I bled, burning, brewing more wait

Impatience gave birth to a Demon’s mate

Homed in the skull, honoured by nausea

I drug, drastically dreaming of euphoria


Specs of the blue sky wooed my sight

Edging to calm it might, yet rife by worry

Hurried to defeat the urge, though it occurred

Pins, needles and cautious sweats of a herd


Wanting to be as free as a bird

Impossible, I heard, freedom is only inferred

He is free from the bars which dim Human stars

She is free from the sexist sight and societal scars


Freedom as justice, we remain in the wrong


2016, my bredren @isthatscully said he wanted to play a Piano on the Moon one day


The Usual Remorse

I thought it had died, the strong bond which time dries

Solidified with words and selfless acts, truer words have never been spat

From such tired lips which wish to embrace your hips

What good is one kiss to a gist of romance and love?

So I lived in wait, punished by the blood rush

The lust cusped the words I gave and the emotions I laid

The path shines bright, an enumerating light, only because you stood right before

Usually I ignore a heavenly call, during my madness the composure was chipped

Shipped to the furthest shores of the brain, what a joker

Refraining to entertain, a beacon beaming success, reviving the capacity to regret

2016, for me by myself, I hate this one but also like it for some reason


The Underground


A hole in a wholesome of artistic smarts

Dumb in recognition our suspicions hold a pass

Like wandering fires of a hell-bent flame

Heat is not a forgotten feat

Singing a familiar song that rattles the tame

Who is to blame?

Eyes prized on the same

Shadows cast upon a wall to teach them all

So our projections are so small

Irregularities cause a fall

How humane to be fascinated by a mall

Yet to be ready to stall a Human for their form

Stirred and maddened like storms

Born from the nurture of nature

I cannot hate what existence creates

A fate in genetics difference is a merit

With credit donned on the brilliance of their bonds

So why aren’t you so fond of this palette of skin?

A Kin to our cultures and differences within


2016, for me by myself


To Shine Again


I whine and feel red, old as I folded bitterness

My taste is laced with routine, chopped and screwed

In tune to chimes and rhymes accustomed to a customer’s service

A usual junk filled taste, paced to perfection without learning a crucial lesson

That beauty is fruitful as the Earth, continuously giving birth to a World

Everyday can be a new discovery

To align with the shine of the new

Staying true to fool the masterful mundane

No more warrant to rain on life’s parade


2016, for me by myself, I am looking at the transition in words and the concepts I play with. 2016 was super dark for me, it seems




A train delayed by death, without a second though of a Human’s last breath

Heightened as the effects of meth, delaying death is the best way to alleviate stress

So we test time and whine throughout the night, waiting for life to excite, the sensation of living an insomniac’s blight

Stop venting and mas the array of thoughts, you ought to lay lifeless and let the sleep creep she sought

Her mind unravelled revealing the most gruesome thoughts, I wanted her to shoot some more, each idea was a bullet in court

As the silence of night brought self-reflection, a nights worth of self-inspection, allowed your thoughts to linger in my mentions

You broke the law and inspired evolution, a revolution of me only the night can heed with glee.

Dark and heroic, only Gotham knows it

Your benevolence shows it, hindrances left hang out to dry, dyed by the jives of 3 am to 5


2016, for me, a favourite, by myself




Golden silks glide across bare skin

Rugged, the silk bares the frizz of the chin

Grizzly tilts toward the edge of the bed

My roar timid, yet the contrast is red

With a hint of the nights grin

Reeking of sin, I conjure the dead

Memories debate fate, a ruptured date

With my soul punctured my chest sinks

Ghastly sense masked though clearly is read

By those who concede to the greed of empathy

Are you full? I asked, as I sliced another part

A Being in itself, self-centred to the core

I adore the rumination, this deadly celebration

Nevertheless existential glue hosts a gruesome rule

Bed ridden, aspirations hidden by lifelessness


2016, for me, by myself




Homunculus, there’s a man seated within my cranium

He stole my voice, giving me a lack of choice

Whether I birthed such a thing, or it relies on my consciousness whim

The homunculus is kin to everything within

My body a shell, an oyster for a voyage

Continuously zooming via life’s highway

Riding nightfall through high beams seams our vehicle shut

The awkwardness shifts the aux in rotation

Each song was a statement

The Homunculus, I and I

Plotting for and against our mutual demise

Seated behind the bale body, an immoral lens

Which can only be cleansed by the penetrative

A voice, soulfully struck – removing its bane

A riddler may be insane, the anti-hero bust of distrust by the brain

Ping pong or tennis, the opposition longs

For a hurl of the dice, to feast on whatever you might


2016, for me, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, by myself




Your first sight a rose, no wonder you rose so harmoniously

Peace all you knew, ears muffed through trials and tribulations

Grown through concrete its petals rough, we trust they know of life onto life

Falling as a plucked petal from the rose, nobody chose their branch

Half chance to be born as free as a field, still thrilled by the polluting air

Heir to namesake, a throne, adopted from those that watered the rose

Pink mattering into existence, as calming as the incense

That sheds its essence all over the place, creating a case

Of thought and ease, heeding matters of life we sieve

The happiness and grief, chief to the point of fulfilment

My last sight of the rose, waiting as my emotions fold

Holes in the rose’s petals, and aims, famed as a Queen yet treated a slave

Wishing to pave a way to the grave, as we humbly watch life’s vehicle fade

2016, for me, by myself, the strongest favourite



It rained upon the streaks of my soul that only negritude can sow
Holding an empty pit by a loss of wit, negritude tugged like the string of a bow
Showing a familiar show, with our theatre the roads, venturing into aggressions mighty close
For that streak of soul may flow but it is not open. Mainstay roasting, to toast away with the revolting
Halting the streets thousands weep a familiar song, a particular chant of abasement by where they’re from
The reigns of blackness, by society’s wand, stemming from the weight of a historical bomb.
Imagine the magic of a familiar song, sweeping Worldwide whispering where you belong
Yet no place respects the wait the damage has done, hence a familiar fault of the Humans wrong


2017, for me, randomly at night. But then I got insight as to why I like writing and showing my poetry. People started to want to read and actually enjoyed it so… 


A face paced to perfection of allure
Fixed and clear like a field of flowers
Though in the city pollution is sour
Devouring the vibrance of countless flowers
Roaming through grey waves for hours
Buildings blocking the Suns eternal power
Shining on her face it laced the World
With a beautiful space, a moment to appreciate
Our Earths exquisite taste


2017, for a lady on Twitter, I forgot to put her name next to. You’ll find many pieces have been like that. She gave me a topic I forgot to list, and I did that


The calm wait to touch you is colourful
My rush is trustful that you are what I desire
Like the first Humans and the blaze of fire
Which lit up the blue skies which denied its rise
For the World holds life in place, hence desires demise
I realise you rest away as a living prize
The guise of achievement fries my hopes alive
As I disguise and creep ready to ride
Or die, considering desires untimely signs


2017, a poem on desire, for another person I did not list. Practice what you preach…



You Good Though?
So we are silent unless it’s violent
Ronin, scheming as a migrant
The price of silence as inner finance
Broken silence, so solid yet mine felt
Areas we dealt as harmful to health
The wealth of maintaining respect
The proximity in which pressure is kept
Collecting debts of doubt in a rout
Dispersing pain via veins in our vowels
Shedding blood 4 smokes 2 tokes involved
A community we hold sold on as a brotherhood
A danger that exists in another hood
Lack of empathy, born from motherhood
Not merely shed by a woman’s love
But a tendency of natures flowing glove
The natural move to soothe ones settings
Strength by missing a key blessing
The threading of the hearts worried spectrum
Brother, let your pain be a lesson
For words can be blade sharp, caressing
From what end are we electing
The deeds of wrecking and protecting


2017, for the mandem, for brothers and the self-destruction we are in tune with



My Sunshine
You elevate me by your presence
Thaw in awe I shed my cool
Drooling in wait to choose the wise
Rabid your touch feels a vets prise
I realise you mimic the sunshine
Rays gleaming keeping one alive
Planting seeds in the self to thrive
No wager but friendship the bribe
Many rise from lonelinesses cries
Yet cannot deny a warm hands prize
Gifted countless times I fear the demise
Flowers are weary not showing such times
Your photosynthesising guise
Shedding life’s energy in disguise
Hence I must exist forever while
To detail this Godly guile
Of friendships lasting mile


2017, for a friend and the situationship you pretend, is totally fine


Things aren’t the same, I’m not forcing it again
It dawned upon me, infiltrating the mind
Dwindling fame, no longer concrete in the brain
Yawned with disdain, considering more time
Conversations like rain, dropping to reign
Kingdoms came, in dream form yet sane
Building weathering storms, in the form of pain
Slain by a game, repetitive wrongs to blame
Cain, I’m able to whip myself to shame
Watering plains, seeds fiend for your love
Dead without your shine, dull and lame
Your petals I picked, with a selfless glove
Ignoring your flight, a beautiful dove
Released from my cage, to soar above


2017, clearly I was in some type of pain I don’t know what the fuck or who… I am even vexed right now



My feet waver as my mind chases matter
Like a black hole my black heart is large
It teases my mind to a point it can shatter
Like a black hole it ceases effort to charge
Energised by chance of being on my feet
Mattering to matter everything is deep
Yet shallow as I waddle to my knees
Mattering to a fatter audience of me
Friends or enemies a moment the Sun sees
It sheaths the past as a day would advance
Without no pay Society intentionally throws
Meaning beaming to take life’s chance
Bountiful squares staring down on me
Buses roaming streets that were once Roman
Knowing I’m here though ready to flee
Lying on an opportunity like a hopeful Trojan
Frozen by ambient sounds I am proud
Living in the now with the moon as a foul
Chosen to be a million degrees it shrouds
The Sun shines as I ruminate like an owl


2017, for me, written by myself


Hundreds in silence
Accompanied by never ending thoughts
A court of a thousand minds judging you
Bother you they won’t unless free
Able to heed the good for three
Unsettling the waves of assured work
Giving birth to what if against earn
Work indeed to turn a pension into a lead
To stare back on times passed with greed
Acknowledging the new as hard to read
Another Sky scrapes with pollution in steed
Seemed shut but another policy
Environment weaved with no apology
Deemed another mockery of Human need
Foxes lurk scavenging for weeds
Grown on top of this concrete theme
Grey the scheme of a million beings
Coloured to the palette of London means

2017, for me, by myself



Another day fades into a stream
Coherently leaning into the past
Fasting religiously like sin was cast
Upon the idle state that insidiously laughs
It starts at recognition blaming your graft
The effort it took to become so smart
Stupidity asks if it’s worth the task
At last doubting the inner harp
Chiming to the beat of today’s farce
In jest willingly daft to the bars of reality
That keep one dumbfounded by class
Present and working toward the middle
To ask the electrifying parts of the heart
Whether living by patience is sharp
Or errors of a capitalised Humane path


2017, suggested by a follower on patience



A Very British Office
Coffee marks the scent
It rents the office
Grains of time microscopic
As the clock ticks to bend
Bored keys punched to amend
Data pretends to yield
In a field of letters
Utilising time better
Setup so stiff
It dips ones mood
Unless great interest
It injects to brood
Until it’s time for food
Reverting to being alone and crude
Excluding the duty of work
The mind racing to the curb
Imagining a greater adventure


2017, suggested by my angst at work, followers concept A Very British Office


Glaring at the moon with a trust in stardust
Allocated by a fantastical and wonderful big bang
It sang through nothingness hymning a network
Of sound, material and existential worth
Giving birth to a constant teleological girth
Each atom spawning fresh as a collection of nothing
Though Human eyes deny vastness with something
Hence the luna chance of a diety
As if the stars are as watchful as irony
And we are meant to be as the will to live is fiery
Within the nurtured Human heart a daft place for smarts
When placed on the chart of stardust


2017, a poem on Stardust


The script of fate may always win the race
If placed untimely in a moments grace
Like dominos steadily falling into place
Slicing minds into elation when studying its case
Or unease wades like murky waters of waste
Confusion like a psychic or dejavu displaced
Hence we pick when we smile and remember
Casting frustrations to the memories of vile
Rarely underlining the importance now
The temptation of fate can truly feel foul
A deadly reflection of our similar vowels
Spelling a chance meeting forever and now


2017, a poem on the concept of Fate


My love is built like a protective glove
As if I am building on something I can rub
It’s delicate, caressing I reckon it subs
Harshness of me for the beauty I can see
In countless dreams counting pleasantries
A heart so big it could coddle seventy
Individual needs of greed could never be
Contrasting one love to dishevel me
Beautiful subjects applied and on course
To teach each other an insightful morse
A code projected to teach its court
To understand the variety of relations thoughts
Though not without jealousy hate and impression
Reality as interaction is more of an election
Who is the most favoured by dressing
Fitting the policies of my glove
The only one my urge longs to touch


2017, a poem on the concept of unreciprocated love


The course exacted onto living
Shillings billing to a grind
The unsigned constitution of same
Friends solidifying onto the plains
Nurtured to a natural vein
Coursing through years of rain
Storming complex lanes of thought
Weathering the tears friendship brought
Caught by tribulations we fought
Sort a timeline of shorts
Films of memories ignored
As change through time is warmth
Warming to anew to show you grew
Away from addictive due of the same
The bane of what if injecting a stiff
Vibe cosigned by our labelled gift
Brains arranged to untimely split
As age has and length and width
Returning to nothing like a black eclipse
A never ending sail of existences ship


2017, Changes, I forgot for who


Rome roams through years of work
Beads of sweat lurk in its sediment
Foundations birthed from sentiment
The realisation of greatness is sentient
Acknowledging a drive to be heaven sent
Adam and Eve grieve as their will is bent
Introspection spent on an immoral tent
Realising where human nature went
On clear shallow skin it lent
Powers of supposed precision to men
Gradually visually and mentally spent
In interested debt to the souls it vents
Constructing a reverberating type of hymn
That flings your own importance to cling
Onto the edges of self beliefs whim
Plotting by the second hour and day
Building blocks steadily in dismay
In attempt to figure out your own way
Of loving your own mixture of clay
Compiled by a collection of good and evil
A collection of your life’s display


2017, a poem on Rome wasn’t built in a day


Weak, somewhat a root of a young tree
Easily unearthed from towering degrees
Appeased, by potency aiming for the sky
Wondering inside will I achieve can I fly
A fright which derives from 1000 eyes
Plotting on the heroic prize whilst alive
A Golden seat to a feat of respect
In which only the greats can expect
Erecting legacy through pride and set
Reworking your limits to become the best
And yet the Earth comes back to collect
A spreadsheet of its untimely will
Then you will feel lesser than your prime
Optimistically rewind to a lesser time
As you grow frail and unwind in decline
Your image stays strong on the old shine


2017, a poem on lacking belief in the self


Space is diced to a domino effect
Incorrect spending tries to forget
Limited time we never repped
Causes our wake to be upset
Hence staying woke is a fret
To the thing infatuated with itself
Alone with body and consciousness
A constant duality of being it
Storing living will realising innate skills
Debating the inner self to heal
Being unwanted instills introspective thrill
Though being number one selfishly kills
Loneliness is a suicidal pill
For time is a loners buffet of meals
It deals the cards to unlock the seal
Until waves bump the shores to a still
The real me behind the selfish hill
One has to overcome a hack and jill


2017, a poem on time and space


My hands tremble as my stomach churns
The calories burned through texts
That eliminate suspicions in a matter of secs
A flowing conversation somewhat a form of sex
Thumping in my nauseous shallow head
Praying hateful bullets can shred this paranoia
That built on stilts of playful ignorance
Which sparks when the heart feels dark
Hence I dart to you with the hateful art
Or flowing speech preached through fingers
Pinpointing sins of a daft brain which wades through you
The peaks I construe woven to impress you
Like a kimono stitched to dress you
Although I forever stress I yearn to bless you
To earn the rent less rights to your heart


2017, a poem on trying to win someones love


To Lose
You don’t know what’s good until you lose
Then you will cherish what you overlooked
Like the creep of a cigarettes twos
Anxiously vibrating until you’re shook
Fools think twice on paranoia’s cruise
So easy to lose your way when you look
At fine lines in-between how shrewd you grew
A Scrooge at best cherishing a spiteful ruse
Fake smiles to grind that simmering hate I moved


2017, To Lose, a poem of the innate feeling of depression against positivity




To go back to zero anew
For I was a fool in loves stew
Dicing my heart splicing a path
That years prior we already knew
To devour the fool in a Mountainous move
As rocks unsteadied an immobile mood
Moments where love dipped and brewed
I gradually became unknowing of you
Excused by how I grew a seasoned fool
Fuelled by acts of feelings innate attacks
Back shuddering with nonsensical vim
Reverberating the evils that rest in whim
To a point we were emotionally skint
No numbers to think of equations to fix
This bond that persists to exist
One that life doesn’t simply gift


2018, I did not write poetry for a period between like… January until June. Life was dark, and I was working on Rise Up. This was for me, by myself.


Return To Then
Back then, when we were married by time
The then me you could find
As our modes intertwined
And you could paint a picture of mine
It was merely a fragment in time
Captured with a lesser lens
Maybe we were friends, from similar ends
Sometimes we pretend it was more then
So it was life we spent in the time we rent
Socialising with a lot of waste to repent
Likeminded years where the young dement
Existential vents which captured my scent
You smell what my life has cooked
Over time new finds break lines like a rook
My castle was shook when I met these crooks
Stealing my grounding an outstanding book
Which details the attractions that got one hooked


2018, for me by myself. Practice to get back to this


Smile, you’re on camera.
Marching madness into the times of Santa.
You’re supposed to gift the World banter, at heights of your success.
The excess smile was best never kept. Upkeep your wealth through visions of screens.
Every crack in the image demeans the grandiose that seams.
It seems you’re shut in between fame and degrees, that host your trajectory on a line to appease.
These drugs relieve your subdued unease, that foils the happiness you supposedly weave.
Knots grasping the wigs that encased the fibs, your mind rewired to ignite your new sim.
Readying players one breath at a time, as the plain you is AWOL with reflection your only way to remind.
That a smile will always be inclined.


2018, a poem about people thinking you are brand new unless you entertain the past you and the positivity that surrounds you


On my ones, my J’s, I elevate like Jordan’s raise
Of the heel, I praise, switching face to heel
As it peels security I found around the way
Portrayed as a golden arch in dusky grey
Coloured with the palette of a friends phase
Do you remember them days, we use to cotch
Whine over dwindling scotch, boxed a pizza
Dismissing the wonder of a normal geezer
A formal teaser for the ordinary life
Discontented with ourselves in mind
Wondering when this life would shine
Its intrigue into this World of mine
The ends and skengs, blems and tens
With more characters than Ben
You’ve got a friend in me
Foreshadowing the heights we could see
None believed in imagery we couldn’t pree
Hence desperation present to be squeezed
As we shake what they have for their pees
Drive by cemeteries where we once grieved
Memories of wilderness in stories of greaze
Sceptical to see the heights we’ve achieved
You know them Ones, my Gs


2018, I was experimenting about the ends. And being on your ones, in le feels etc.


The human taste billed to a passion
From foraging in fashion to matching greens
Born from dazzling heat to spicy means
Flowers oiling brittle sesame seeds
It waves between buds like the haze of weed
As aromas weaves inviting our sensory greed
To uplift the need to engulf and sustain
With lips homing clashing teeth like a rave
Wave after wave gulping to savour and save
To remember the taste as your hunger wades
Tipping the balance of greed to a gluttonous phase


2018, wrote for Dom – she asked me to write a poem on food – @Foodwithdom


I’m not special enough for flowers

To sprout through the sun beaming above
Suiting her beauty like a flower of love
It shone to vilify the feelings of numb
Which run into hope which groped her fun
It lingered as free as a venus would be
Trapping the flies which saw her a prize
Attempting to grasp the gold she kept in hide
As portraying her essence alone would rise
Flowering presence with energising pride
Scheming on the wonders of potency’s climb
Whisking notions to admire unadulterated life
Such benevolence by nature, an angels cries
Which bellowed through God and clear skies
Flowers can’t be plucked if they remain inside

2018, wrote this for Solly, she said she’s “not special enough for flowers”, @yannaldn

Layers of trust immaterial as dust
Swept aside as persistence is a must
Awaiting a day the strong wait pays you back
Exacting a Humane lens on a Holy pact
Unknowingly losing its weight one paces late
Uncommon to feel a prayer displaced
Waves falling from eye bags and a parched face
As if another angel had fell from grace
He provided another chance to heed faith
Unraveling the sanctimony of a lying saint
For no one is free from the reigns of doubt
A Human disposition which swindles one about
Until the truth is frothing at the mouth
And the dejection is buried within down South
To stomache the pain of ignorances clout
We cast belief in the benevolence in bout

2018, a poem on faith, wrote this for Mon @xMonezzz


The Human mouth, shrouded with gluttonous doubt
Knowing it bouts hunger rountinely everyday
It displays angst in times the stomache aches
In wake of the greed it stakes as normality
Wondering through waste we recognise the edible
The biodegradable amount processed with haste
The million units accustomed to taste
Shaking the process of being animalistic and raw
Reminding the excess could feel dozens more
Though we heed the weight of a Capitalistic draw
Hence smoking meats, processed like never before
Lays in wait a broke man, whose chest almost thaws
In winter where his dwindling fat can no longer store
The minerals spawned from each bite from the floor


2018, a poem on the gluttony of people


Heartful and brimming with embedded joy
With an aim to soil the buds of many
The aesthetic mimicked grandoise
With gold glittering like stars
In wait of a true Knight like Zoro’s cast
Flamenco dancers hardly stand a chance
For her sauce sizzles on tongues like a dance
The confident ballet of a fingers craft
Piecing a meal from Earthly parts
A mechanic of fruitfulness at last
Her difference exemplified her advance


2018, a poem just for Rianna @xeci_


Sour lips bitten crisp by smoke and tars grips
Bitterly ripping, crackling under pressures of the ill
The thrill had run dry, fried was this passionate cook
Who shook the sativa crumbs from numb finger tips
Which were cloaked by the scent of American Spirit
As if his karma would exhibit change by a haze
His laze grew in comfort believing it a phase
Phasing through ways of effort, wading by potential
It became existential to bother, in this new sombre
That engulfed his capacity to care, wearing him bare
As he lay there, billing another bout, pondering
On what life is about, his mind would shout
As his ease was corned by anxieties rout
In order to uphold his phenomenal clout he would scout
Talent in the same lane as his amnesia driven doubts
Wondering if this is what life is really about
Discussing the parallels as they exchange mouths
Steadily becoming the same addiction of repetitions drought


2018, a poem on bunning too much and I’m due to bil it


The centrepiece of the soul knows
It sows a grounding in the morals you found
Bouncing around between the awes of men
Pouncing on the peace stored within women
The Human tale derailed by a billion schemes
A palette of nightmares and dreams mixing to appease
Like the warmth of a spirit settling to ease
The fiery chest containing the point
Which twists you with more passion than joints
Haze clouds the early mornings maze
As the crystals shine on peace’s path you crave
A serial killer of your unknown phase
Where your innards boom with vibrations of a rave
Frolicking between anxieties pins needles and greys
Areas that dictate the remnants of your day
All in aim of the plain state you await
That you once knew in birth, unbridled by hate
The centrepiece is Human, billed to distaste
It sows an equation, only you can make


2018, poem on retaining inner peace, for Mary @maryandfrens


So apparently, that’s 39 poems for you to read and enjoy. I hope they made you happy, and if you have read my other work and been alongside the entire journey I want to thank everyone for just being here and adding to my life. It is all a series of click that mounts great things like this, and content for Humanity to consume that is not so dark and dystopian.





Author: Jude

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *