Tuesday, 4 September 2012


A soft chilly breeze awoke the commuters,
Deep depressed sighs exhaled,
a melancholy air pierced the platform,
And a deathly silence followed it. 

That’s when I heard her perpetual exuberance,
Reciprocally humming to the tune of the wind,
Her voice tiptoed to a whisper above the divine instrumental,
She was clairvoyant in her gentle, almost sentimental ethereal connection. 

A week passed, unable to catch a glimpse, 
my ears remain cognizant, 
I catch a glimpse of her speaking, 
her mouth moving in the reflection. 

Her brown locks hid her appearance,
My eyes distracted by her expressions
as if she was running interference.  

I hear her smile and my ears redden,
An enchanting noise exudes from her,
I concluded that it was the epitome of joy.

Her words were scented with a raw, delectable sweetness,
I absorbed her conversation like a bee takes to honey.   
Avid, aware and eager to hear each carefully constructed answer,
Captivated, I sat pensive on the train.  

My thoughts danced to her sound.

Her stance friendly but body-language signalled she wasn’t to be approached,
Inevitably, people tried like moths drawn to a flame.

The nadir of society's aesthetic restrictions, 
she was difficult to find.
So I followed her shadow, 
infatuated with the beauty of her mind.  

Sunday, 26 August 2012

The junkie and the banker

Waiting till the intoxication subsides,
drunk slurs aside, each tear was a symbol of a salty sigh.
Each needle was a bitter sweet cry,
help, was the call, wallowing at the sight of her fall,
But she was too high to care

Pain needed to be blurred.
She wanted to make life a smoke screen.
Her teeth gnawed at the prospect of past,
Present shattered by mental scars.
she gasped for divine intervention

Staring upwards, neck craned

53rd floor, looking down, "I'm above you"
In more ways than one he pondered.
Smirking at the hollow reflection,
Smiles were always a smoke-screen,

But something irked his suave demeanour,
Injected in his veins was a competitive edge,
A mission to never be below another,
vie for the top even if you must crush your brother,

Today he hoped for the final promotion,

His blood began to boil at the sight of rejection.

It all became too much, the toil, the saturated spoils, the infatuations satiated and  the royal self- servancy.  
He took that deliciously degenerate aphrodisiac for the last time and Died

Crack, cocaine or crystal meth wasn't the cause, it was Pride

Self-Pity, Self Importance
Pills and Position
See beyond the suit,
See beyond the ragged clothes.

"The intoxication of headlessness and arrogance takes longer to regain consciousness from than the intoxication of wines." Imam Ali

By Mohamed-Zain Dada

Tuesday, 15 May 2012

Society's Show Trial

No words can ever be undone,
No pitches high or low can ever be unsung
and Her words stung
Like a bee, I was left for dead caressing my very being.

The Chinese whispers first pierced the peripheries of my ears
It preyed upon my most guilty fears
Solemn in the knowledge that I was better
I hailed the fictional public stoning and I joined in the thunderous applause
But when it was all said and done I could not pinpoint the cause.

I scoured the contours of my mind's landscape
For reasoning to offer my rage some escape
Earth shattering insecurities enveloped me instead
I was at sea, drowning, left for dead caressing my being

At first, I could not believe what I was seeing
The verdict would be guilty in my court of hate,
I blurred the lines of slander and libel,
scriptures and bible taken out of context
To prove to myself that this was the case

When the winds of change ended its reign on man,
I begun searching for the truth amongst the greys
the silent hums, hues and tried to put together dismembered clues.
I was puzzled, left for dead caressing my very being,

"Your reputation precedes you," - Her last words
I mused "Your judgement proceeds the One."
I took no bother and felt free.
because judgement had been passed
and reputations had indeed been destroyed
What concerned me the most, was the judgement threatening my soul.

Monday, 26 March 2012

The Unseen Bruises

The Unseen Bruises

Today's cloudless blue sky hid her pain,
she displayed a sunny disposition but her eyes hid the rain,
Pathetic fallacy is rendered meaningless.

Demeaning stares, but she triumphantly smiles to hide the bleakness,
Not wanting to depict her emotion - a sign of weakness,
A hollow victory nonetheless.

Emotional blackmail kept her at bay,
"Beggars can't be Choosers" is what they used to say,
So she's Waking up to an abyss.

There was a life-scarring storm before an everlasting calm,
Day-dreams brought about thoughts of self-harm,
Sharp words & internal bleeding.

The Sleeping beauty tormented by her dreams,
Nightmares trapped her intermittent screams,
Even Escapism offered her no exit.

Pregnancy was her respite,
A short prelude to the rest biting
Back to emotional agony.

The blessing of a new life,
The metamorphosis from wife to mother,
But the Butterflies colour was temporary.

The first adopted the wrong genes, showing her disdain,
Confused by the betrayal, she struggled to stay sane,
Torn apart to shreds but not one bruise.

She craved the silver lining to her cloud,
surrounded by a crowd but she never felt more alone,
some suffer in silence, some suffer out-loud.

Suffering patiently hoping for an end.
Enough was enough. Too tired to Pretend,

The Naked eye simply saw the body,
"No bruises" - perplexed onlookers pondered.

The Post Mortem never detected her broken soul.

Monday, 12 March 2012

Me, My Ego and I

You pierce the esteemed I.
With your disapproving gaze
You damage my insecurity proof vest
and leave me torturing myself in various ways.

But I'm still in awe of You.
My sycophantic rants should not stress you,
don't think my self-hating speak is formed to berate you
I simply seek an outlet for Us.

Some seek betterment,
but you simply think you're better than, me.
Why assume a higher position?
Leaving me on the death bed seeking a spiritual physician?

You always seem to build yourself up
sky-high, you've probably seen the stars
but not the space,
(a)voiding the fact that you're obsessed with Uranus

You shrug at the lack of light
but the birds eye view you occupy
gave you the lofty perspectives of the grim night
And what is the truth to a brilliant lie?

nothing, You are
even dwarfing yourself,
even Self is astounded by the fact
that you scarcely see nothing else

The inner me wants more
but your insatiable desire
makes me think "What For?"
I choose victory in perpetual war

I almost made peace with me
I hope The One witnesses this,
but You convinced me This was bliss,
and I'm left bewildered with you.

As I look in the reflection
The warts of my soul are evident
my gnostic body suffers infection
I look at you and all I see is arrogant decadence

This mustn't be you
This can't be me.
But as a great poet once said:
"Between the mirror and the heart
is this single difference:
the heart conceals secrets,
while the mirror does not."

Monday, 6 February 2012


Doves fly in her pulsing veins

The queen of hearts defiantly reigns

She pushed her doubting lovers away

An act to keep her tears at bay

With violent volcanoes come vast landscapes

When lava is put out by raging waves

Nature forfeits herself as well as she gains

Finding her rhythm though constant change

By Alaa Kassim 

Monday, 16 January 2012

I want to make 'It'

I perspire, you perspire. To fulfil
the desire to leave a lasting legacy,
so when we leave this earth we appreciate the energy
input, the inner initiative to inspire

But don't sweat it, I do this to hear the choir
singing my praises
to observe the wanton gazes
and to know it's me who they want.

fool stop.

a chance to breathe. 
constantly under siege
by the outer, pressured
to prove the doubter

You do what you do for you.
& none of the above.
except for the one.  You must find and love.

we want to make it,
'it' is not seen or known
not even set in stone,
not naturally produced or grown,

What did we want before 'it' existed?

Thursday, 5 January 2012

Lost for Thoughts

Lost for Thoughts

Tributaries of emotion flowing to a river of words
Dam, blocked by the sweetened poison,
perceived to be 'pure,'
adulterated honey.

Cheating on your self.

False is crystallized into imagined ideas
Lost for thoughts

Vanity pervades every nostril
it's lingering stench
it's sickening hollow smell
every mirror used to admire my superfluous wings

I forgot why the cage bird sings
But I do know it looks beautiful
or so I've been told by the pseudo sage.

Rage, pungent & rampant
flowing through our veins
But the blind man see's better than the angry man.

curious, envious enigmas
Are Our insignias.

boxes reprimand unearthliness
thinking outside is suicide
social. networking is the world

the art of dis-course is tarnished
still, varnish is nailed onto the disquisition
so a shining gleam is sown, and its seeds
crave position...

The chosen-one syndrome
an ailment so vile, a fake smile
is a common self-sacrifice
to get far.
But to where?

The fog of pride disguised by humility
humanity died, is the cannibalistic dog culpable.

Rhetoric is the language of the modern man
so I will make like the proverbial oracle
and ask myself.

When we think,
are we truly expressing ourselves
Or the desires of our self?

Have we made our mind up?
If I think the reasons for my thinking
the process has me blinking.

Lost for thoughts.  Nothing more to think.

Dear Mother Britain - The Film!

 Watch the film Words Apart made over the summer: Dear Mother Britain, 12 young people (poets and free-runners) from Barnet, Camden & Haringey discuss what being British means!