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Thursday 23 September 2010

Desperation


When the doors close in you feel trapped, unable to breathe.
The most spacious place in the world, yet your heart is being crushed.
The taste of salt streams down your face insistently, unwittingly, fittingly. Tears!
Tears.
Strange how they can embody happiness yet represent heartache and turmoil. Desperation.

To be free without constraints. Who are you? Who am i? Who are they?
To break free?
To be the causation of shattered expectations and disappointment.

Oh to break free.
Oh to be me.



By Zena B, a new and very skilled poet!

Sunday 19 September 2010

'The Scars I Try To Hide'

Watch how long it takes for my intentions to be misread,
My words are screamed over and theirs begin to encroach my head.
Watch how quick their anger blows up and finds a fight,
My emotions begin to catch alight.

Their words cut me like a knife
It soon begins to hurt someplace deep inside.
I leave the room as they scream and shout
So I can scratch the pain on the surface until I zone out.

The sting brings with it a false sense of relief
So much for trying to turn over a new leaf
Everything stops for that moment in which I'm now stuck
The place where I truly don't give a fuck.

I've heard them say some things are a little too late
I guess this is one of them, a fact I truly hate
It’s done now and there's no going back
No chance to gain the strength which I so desperately lack.

Numbness takes over and hardens my heart
I dry my tears and dream of a new start
But as I open my eyes it suddenly hits me
These dreams will never ever be my reality, I am simply my own worst enemy

As the days go by I slowly try to figure it out
Questioning myself, what is it really all about
I need to let go of these demons that haunt me
I just want some peace; I need to set my mind free

I’ve had enough of the tears
Sick and tired of fighting this battle for the past four years
Enough is enough, I’m done giving in
It’s too self destructive living with this sin

I pray for strength, I pray there won’t be a next time
My skin doesn’t look too pretty with all these confused lines
So for now I hope that the scars inside
Will fade quicker than the ones I try to hide.

By The talented poet Abiha B

Tuesday 14 September 2010

'Words Apart' Free Poetry Workshops.


Tupac was a

Poet,

Kanye is a

Poet

.

And YOU too can be a Poet.

JOIN

:

WORDS APART

This Monday at Canada Villa be part of

the poetic revolution sweeping across London.

Be part of a thriving community of poets, exchange ideas, create new work and work towards a performance at The Rumi Festival (London’s most famous Poetry event). As well as performing at regular poetry slam’s.


Hosted by The Leano and Urban Poet.

With Guest Poets coming in too!

What to bring: Your mind, a pen and any poetry you may have to perform

What time? Every week, Monday Nights at 6 – 8pm

Where? The Canada Villa Youth Centre, Mill Hill, Barnet. (Next to Mill Hill Powerleague)

For more information contact: M.Zain in college or email: mohamedzaind@googlemail.com

Friday 10 September 2010

Every inch of me is screaming for violence

Every inch of me is screaming for violence
Fists clenched and fire flowing bitter anxiety
I wana punch kick and wrestle
Blistered bloody knuckle
Beat my knuckles
Pound some flesh

But I don't wana hurt anybody
Least not myself
I want to fight this world and put it in its place
Yet I can't even seem to fight myself
And its myself that beats me down
My own rusty halo is what cuts me
I can't be good
Even though its who I am
I still hold on to the evil that makes me weak
I'm not who I used to be
Nor am I strong enough to be whom I want to be
I'm stuck somewhere in between
A place where there is no light
The darkest place I could ever be
And I'm about to lose this fight

Why do I cause myself to suffer in this life
Only to burn in hell?

By Adil Hossenally

Monday 6 September 2010

Wedding Ring.

I see this lady wearing a wedding ring
I smile, close my eyes and dream

I feel the feeling of being married
Of coming home to you, that excitement

Emotions of our wedding day
The knowing that I've done right
I picture myself dancing and holding you
The comfort of being close without hesitation, fear nor regret

But the pictures I paint aren't ones of images
No, the simple thought and faith of my dreams coming true are simpler yet so much more complex

Who you are I don't know, but I pray for you each day

I pray for us

And as I smile I feel gods hand calming my impatient impertinent wanting
Reassuring me of the future

When I find you I know you'll be hesitant
For that is the nature of who you are
But I have faith, god knows my dreams, my desires, my prayers, my everything and all other things.

So I ask of my lord that I may be blessed with patience

Until the day we dance
The day we smile
The day we fight
The day we cry
The day we live
The day we become we...

Until then I trust in Him

By Adil Hossenally

Saturday 4 September 2010

Inspiration

I once thought of inspiration as an emotion.
Guidance of creativity from another reality.
The whispers of an unseen spirit.

When words spill poison,
spread disease and utter confusion.
Is it the unseen dark shadows of your mind
that your heart,
the chamber of emotions,
container of your soul,
is listening to?

Whereas when at peace,
and smooth, soft, swift, sympathetic words swirl into being.
Who gifts you with those?

When the heart aches and the grey clouds fill the horizon,
is it only perception that causes painful suffering?
For behind every grey cloud is there not a blue sky?
How can your eyes see truth when the heart is veiled by darkness?

Alhamdulil'ah. My Lord has lifted that burden.
Can you now not see that you are blessed?

By Adil Hossenally.