Slippery

If I knew what you wanted
I wouldn’t be so haunted
You make me wanna grow
And so I feel stunted
So less than you
Cause I see you as too much
A thing to hold on to
But nothing I can touch

I cant touch that
I cant touch that
I cant touch that
Slippery wily cat

If anything were mine
Id give to you
No longer saving it all
For the ones that’s true
I wouldn’t worry what came after
Cause id always be swinging from a rafter
Or maybe a chandelier
The point is though I just wouldn’t care

I cant touch that
I cant touch that
I cant touch that
Slippery wily cat

After the runner, the waiter and host
The angel eyed demon and the king of the toast
Not sure who that one was
cause he had no crown
Maybe I just mean
He was the toast of the town
Darkie came too or maybe by two
But none of them as precious as you

I cant touch that
I cant touch that
I cant touch that
Slippery wily cat

Now me accents changed and sound british
Maybe its Scottish or even Irish
I wont be surprised oh the places I’ve been
Some of them while walking
And others unseen
Now in song to say for this and every day
Someone comes along who makes me gay
A long days journey that ends with a knight

Still I cant cant cant
Touch touch that
Slippery slippery
Wily wily cat

More than a Cheshire
And less than is real
A smile, bright smile
A wink and a squeal
The cutest little thing
That gives the gayest little ring
To a serious song that I had to sing

Still I wont touch
Touch touch that
Slippery slippery
Wily wily cat

We’ve only just begun
But big is the fun
When cat and mouse play
When they both are away
So hear me when I say
Not just for today
You got me feeling funny
Straight face, laughing and gay

I wanna touch that
Touch that that
Slippery slippery
Wily little cat

The hills

Golden stones on the eastern quarry
Black skin coursing through its passages
Like the oil that once filled those drums now pans
Who first cant be said
Some say Laventille
Out of pity or dread
To think of your history
As maroons in town
The irony perhaps only now seen
Or maybe it speaks of from whom they ran
And of you too since then one clan
A warriors haven to this day
It need fixin but what says you
In fineries to mine eye
And pride more than i
Laventille people dont make me cry
Houses stacked and built on each other
Like rick rack on poplin
The city’s zig zag border
At night from afar what do I see
A sequined, sprawling shimmering saree
Tribute without truth is pure mamguile
So no mention of your troubles
But you can ask me why
Cause you acting too like you fraid me
For another reason
Maybe you should be scared
With all that you have
Mornings spent on curbs
Nights too in boxers
Headties and stagnance
Comfortable or resigned
Trapped or defined
Who wants out who wont look back
To tenement love down forbidden tracks
That’s part of it too I imagine
Cause for Laventille is a love song
I writing
A love that travels through the eyes
With a shiver down my spine
And a settling by my thighs
Upper thigh that is
Red brick exposed
Galvanize fence
Guns and drugs keeping things lil tense
But in Laventille man and woman
old aunt and chile
does still make some of us smile a wicked smile

41 in 37

Victory is not mine
Winners don’t speak
They are spoken of
Losers pitied
If she wins
They win
I speak of them before the contest
And they too may speak of me
But not to me
Unless to make me like them
If he wins
They lose
And so does she
And still
Nothing in it for me
As mediator
I have no heart
I feel nothing
Just play the part
Held not lovingly
Between two sides
By forces united
By differences wide
No mention of it
None needed
Youre in this position
As among the top seeded
Much is at stake
As it all burns
Passions
Manifestos
And lessons learned
It all means nothing
Much ado as always
The Indians, Africans
Now sycophants gays
Cause its not about ideas
But blindness and fears
You’ve lived it for years
And not one of them cares
So don’t waste your tears
And leave without shares
In 37, 41 like the plural of deer
Its the same but different.

Veiled

We saw you
We saw them
It came to a point
Not out of anything
But sheer determination
Hate in the form of envy
Is impotent.

Reflecting on you now
I remember reflecting you
When you stood saying nothing
While you heard all said
Me not knowing
Such the nature of power

Something to make me look good
Highlights, low lights
To take off the glare
Not powder, naturally
Maybe we need to make up

Strange Fruit

She crossed my path
And now my mind
Statuesque and stately
Feline
The crowned in a bevy
That was more
Than beautiful women.

Have I taken my time
To say
Tried to find a way
To make not any feel small
You queen, towering above
So many who came before.

The red or the white?
Hold my corner
Or next to as knight
Charming prince done
Bowled over
You say Rex, Dusty or Rover.

I make you laugh
Is ting to cry
The gentry, the pantry
The palatial regalia
Today’s mistakes
Live sometimes forever.

For you I hope for more
No hey nonny nonny
On sea and unsure
No complexities
In years to come
But the kind of
Magic and din sum.

Silly yes, even I would say
But strange fruit
Like Tangerines, mandarins, portugals
and clementines
Sometimes have a way
As difference and likeness
Doth sway to and fro
Like sweet and tart
As we know in the same grow.

Of the Arena

Jerry and co again I blaspheme
As I double up and do my best cream
Yet still I strive
Watching I thrive
Medusa wasn’t my crony
But oh how I feel stoney
Without head and follicles dead
Each strand an idea
Connecting me to somewhere
I am yet to be
Rooted I remain
Dreaming not for gain
But for lack of option
And companion
Id rather be making love he said
And in the moment it sounded dread
But of the Republic I have not read
But of Narcissus and Andromeda instead
Myth and life now do twine
Escaping reality and dodging signs
My destiny though it seems sealed
Like a popular song wheeled and wheeled
No course but to face that wall
No matter how I do try and stall
Is courage needed or just a fall
The question is do I answer your call
Feisty fazers of politics make
Alcohol, laughter and a piece of cake
The party goes on with or without
As I get sweetened on its silent clout
United we stand divided us all
Winners scream while losers bawl

Cyclops Cycle

Here I go again
Asking
Is it wrong
No nothing's wrong
Until said to be
After the fact
After the truth
The traitor of doubt
Eating at me
No chemo
No psycho
No hydro
Nothing to cleanse me
Of my thoughts
My actions
Why did we meet
Who the hell are you
Why aren’t I someone else
I want no one
I want not to be myself
The thought of you
Makes whole
But who are you
What do I need to know
Is anything worth knowing
If after the fact
The truth, I feel
Nothing can cleanse me
Dirty, still
There I go again
Saying
It is right
Nothing is right
Even if I say it is
Not before the fact
There is no truth
Truth acts as friend
Fooling me
No hunger
No interest
Nothing matters
Nothing to make me stop
To cleanse me of you
My dreams
Was it you that I met
Even before I know you
You turn out to be someone else
You make me want to change
I want you
Can I want no one else
Teach me about me
Tell my truths
I cant see or feel anything
The real is no more
Was it ever real
If after the feelings
The truth was illusion
Wishing to be pure
Still dirty
I am alone
But am I lost
Where are you
Without you
You are all I want
With you I am not me
And what I want
Is not mine
Or what I wanted
I’ve done it again
I’m trying to stop doing it
With you
I’m trying to stop doing it with you
With you I hope to have stopped doing it
It does not become me
It has become me
And I am trying to stop doing it
With you
With you im trying to stop
Doing it

Anatomy of selfish love

How long at navel

Before heading south

How long with hand

Before mouth

Then round a little bend

Where a beginning finds an end

Then up to the small of the back

Where retreat begins and too attack

Walls feel hard enough to climb

The love and the war carnal and sublime

Then pass the spine take a sip of the wine

It goes to the head where did it all start

Through eyes registered something on the heart

Where does it all lead

What climax worth having

Whilst taunting and teasing your mind not knowing

what will be felt when its all over

Feelings were heightened and never did falter

No phone call next day

Or any day after

What of that night and when did it end?

a miracle a day

The miracle of conception gets mired in life
Mirrored it is dull,
An opaque journey it is
Obscured by all it has birthed
All thought for nought
When feeling without the miracle
Needed to see beyond the concepts
Many speak of it as illusion
Like ghosts and spirits
Was I deceived
Without understanding
Wondering if I can believe
In miracles
If I cursed id say…
And I say this as a curse
Maybe I am cursed
Maybe I am blessed
One day to know
Oh but everyday a miracle
And nine billion altogether
A tear wells up…

Poetry is life. Life is a poem.

The trumpet of life
blears in my ear.
Symbolism.
But I can't hear it.
Like that bird he wrote of,
la, la, la.
But I cant't hear it
Digging deeper, deeper.
Coming up with...?
I still cant' hear it.
the essence of life?
Quite simply...

Just Like the Toadstool

So there was the mould
and there was the means
and when the time was right
snd right may be wrong
the young would sprout
and grow
and spread
the generation being formed
fashioned.
The circle is growing bigger
expanding
But not the idea.
The same closed circle.
The same closed minds.

Daring Self Portrait One

The tactile tail
of the scorpion
knows the mercy
that is no mercy
on anything else.

Tarantula

...I'd felt the tarantula
walking down my hand.
In numb horror
I looked as it intertwined with my fingers
I blinked
Opening my eyes, I realise
It's your hand in mine.

But you're my friend,
And you would never hurt me.

Fighting

Sometimes,
I feel I am really no good at this.
Writing.
Wrestling, wrangling with words.
To paint that pretty picture,
or to bowl that bitter ball,
straight to your boundary.
And my nerves will rattle.
And I'll feel a shaking I know you don'e feel.
I know to fight though.
And I'll write to the end.

Subliminal Cartoon Cynic

Fall-ing
Fall-ing-in-love (entaglement)
the creation of space (vulnerability)
for some-one else (manipulation)

PARANOID?
PARANORMAL?
PARAGRAPHS ESCAPE ESSAYISTS AT TIMES.

metropolove

as bleak and scary as a subway train covered in graffiti your love did cover me expressions of artists too long suppressed

Coming Out

Struggling desperately
with the lock and keys to my door
as someone approaches.
I know everything will be okay
once I'm on the other side.

Bad Girl Heather asks

have you ever been on it
just to be on it?
For the sake of enjoying it?
For all it's worth
All the pleasure, all the pain?
Been on it hard, wanting all it had to offer
You ride it long with no regret
and so come to it, time after time
and succumb to it time after time
and so come to succumb to suck cum
and suck cum and suck cum?
Blow. Blow.

Addiction

It is the absolute nature
of strategic beasts
that the brine of their belly
be as comforting as...

Mornings after in New York

And as the train smelt of aftershave
and fresh hairspray and underarm deodarant
and newsprint and just applied lipstick
and nylons and shoe polish
and all sorts of perfumes
I smelt of cigarettes and beer and other liquors
and stale cologne and semen
probably contracted while leaning on a wall somewhere.