The London Transport System - An unofficially personified guide..
blotched red all over his cheeks, a slow mover through the rain
jolly but wide, and defiantly not wide eyed
He needs his own lane as he struggles from groin pain
deep breaths each step, 'I need my Asthma Pump' he sigh'd.
Shoulder THUDS into an oncoming skinny student's head
flabbergasted he turns apologetically & turns another shade of red
droopy eyed, a manly strut. Semi-Conscious of his man-boobs.
lunch box filled, pain au chocolat, bacon sandwich and frubes.
has a break at every opportunity, snack or kit kat
winding out any built up constipation
consistently trying to maintain concentration
constrained by time, his bowel movements crave emancipation.
TOP TIP: hustling, bustling city, sirens tryna catch loony tunes on the loose
If you see the police, it's obligatory to warn-a-brother.
His name's Slick but he's always under going works and improvement,
he does his shxt underground, and his lines are always on movement,
in his dirty, rat infested world, under 18's go 50% off..
as long as they provide I.D, or oyster's...
Slick leads a gang across London nicknamed 'TFL' - TIGHT FINING LOW-LIVES..
enter at your own peril.
jump Slick and his watchmen will chase you
or shut-down operations to financially castrate you
escalating dangers for the average buyer
Slick's TFL have CCTV everywhere,
with every step tracked.
customers come from far and wide to ride the train of many colours
metaphorically speaking, getting high from Highgate to Gants Hill
'Mind the Gap.' - Slick's catchphrase for life, repeated regularly
because some fall to suicide causing great distress and delay to Slick's operations.
some pay a weekly or monthly fee for Slick's services,
like prophylaxis or preventative medicinal measure which turns out to be a scam
*cough* swine flu.
N.B racist ham roam the roads and may stop and search.
bulging eyes, weaving in and out, and a watermelon shaped head
shouting behind the blotched fat man in front like a hammerhead tormenting a fat seal
stinging rhyming cockney and selling fish, he specializes in Eel.
jelly like facial structure, a big black stand dominating the central streets with his fishy'ness...
his antithesis, this city banker or w@nkxr as he calls him walks past
abusing suits who clog up the streets with pollution
"we don't need bogus ass's taking bonuses
It's like the sun resolves around Uranus,
stick this fish where the sun don't shine."
having finished his tirade, he served others
free from the congested charging of others
other fishermen with big black stands and watermelon heads are like his brothers
By Zain
@Zainthepoet
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Monday, 5 September 2011
Thursday, 1 September 2011
Entries
Our first entry is by Romanna from South London:
"Simple yet so much satisfaction.
A pleasure better than any,
yet a pleasure that lasts only minutes,
that costs only little,
leaving you with dissatisfaction.
So many forms so many differences,
able to match your mood,
able to match your clothes.
The form varies so much from the almost impossible to break,
to that which has entirely changed in form.
What did we do when we knew not of this pleasure,
how did we fill that void?
how did we subdue that depression?"
"Simple yet so much satisfaction.
A pleasure better than any,
yet a pleasure that lasts only minutes,
that costs only little,
leaving you with dissatisfaction.
So many forms so many differences,
able to match your mood,
able to match your clothes.
The form varies so much from the almost impossible to break,
to that which has entirely changed in form.
What did we do when we knew not of this pleasure,
how did we fill that void?
how did we subdue that depression?"
Competition Time
Got a little online workshop for everyone. In our weekly sessions, we once did a competition of writing about something but not using the actual word. So we described our 'thing' as creativly as possible and we'd guess what this was, for example, one poet wrote about an 'Ice Cube' without using the words Ice or Cube or Ice Cube.
"Boys N' the hood, still slipping out our hands,
hope to gain higher learning
but hope melts into water
when there's no higher earning.
Cold, Arctic, used and abused
like the remnants of my soul"
Did you guess right?
'Boys N' the hood' and 'Higher Learning' are two films, Ice Cube the rapper acted in, whilst the rest of the poem describes an Ice Cube.
Hope you get it?
Now for the competition
The first part is to guess what I'm describing in my OWN version below, the second part of the competition is to write your own version and send it to me so I can put it on the blog. Please leave your name and age, and email to: mohamedzaind@googlemail.com
The winner gets two tickets to the première of Words Apart's Film: Mother Britain on November the 11th 2011.
The poem can be about anything and doesn't have to have a meaning... Remember to guess what I'm describing in the poem below too!
"Flying into the cosmic stratosphere, beings of untold magnitude, unknown size.
Unfortunately incorporating lies.
A cataclysmic sonic boom tapping the periphery of your ear drums
often leaving you in a beautifying abnormal abyss
ignorance leaving most of us in short term hedonistic bliss
cells, phones and emails, chats and messages and shouts from your window
a soliloquy of madness
"I'm sorry Maam, he was found dead," turning the wife into the widow
An outburst of sadness
They penetrate, persuade and can permanently alter man's state
Twisting fate, a techni-coloured diversity , spreading truth, Joseph.
Though the spectrum can turn darkly grim, Goebbels."
By Zain
@Zainthepoet
"Boys N' the hood, still slipping out our hands,
hope to gain higher learning
but hope melts into water
when there's no higher earning.
Cold, Arctic, used and abused
like the remnants of my soul"
Did you guess right?
'Boys N' the hood' and 'Higher Learning' are two films, Ice Cube the rapper acted in, whilst the rest of the poem describes an Ice Cube.
Hope you get it?
Now for the competition
The first part is to guess what I'm describing in my OWN version below, the second part of the competition is to write your own version and send it to me so I can put it on the blog. Please leave your name and age, and email to: mohamedzaind@googlemail.com
The winner gets two tickets to the première of Words Apart's Film: Mother Britain on November the 11th 2011.
The poem can be about anything and doesn't have to have a meaning... Remember to guess what I'm describing in the poem below too!
"Flying into the cosmic stratosphere, beings of untold magnitude, unknown size.
Unfortunately incorporating lies.
A cataclysmic sonic boom tapping the periphery of your ear drums
often leaving you in a beautifying abnormal abyss
ignorance leaving most of us in short term hedonistic bliss
cells, phones and emails, chats and messages and shouts from your window
a soliloquy of madness
"I'm sorry Maam, he was found dead," turning the wife into the widow
An outburst of sadness
They penetrate, persuade and can permanently alter man's state
Twisting fate, a techni-coloured diversity , spreading truth, Joseph.
Though the spectrum can turn darkly grim, Goebbels."
By Zain
@Zainthepoet
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