Our ancient fathers had it easy.
Every now and again God would appear
To one of them on top of a mountain, in a dream,
Or what would seem to be a burning bush.
He would tell them where they went wrong
(which button to push)
Give them a set of instructions.
Then, presto! Away they’d go
And things would also go right for a while,
Until the instructions became obsolete.
Meanwhile, they would be scrutinised
And revised by God, and a new set provided.
Neat! In the Old Testament this was standard,
Now we come to the New: not so for us.
We have to formulate our own instructions,
Perform our own miracles,
By trial and experiment,
By logic or presentiment.
We hope, we fumble and grope
And often (but not often enough)
We discover a missing fragment
Of the Seventh or Tenth Commandment
(only a fragment, mind)
While the First Commandment,
Although we search, we cannot find.
Someday perhaps,
On a slide, looking down a microscope,
One of the laboratory chaps or some old bod
Gazing at the heavens through a telescope,
Might just catch a glimpse of God.
Black girls don’t get eating disorders -
And yet we do,
You may not see it but we do,
We live it, we breathe it - we are it
You say ‘a black girl can’t struggle’
I say ‘unlike you eating disorders don’t discriminate’
Our bodies are scrutinised - so what did you expect,
When you made a comment, and i followed through -
With results that you ignore,
Results that you score,
Results you caused - from your poor choice of words
Black girls struggle too,
Our bodies are the proof -
The truth,
That you deny,
But the numbers don’t lie,
And our bodies still cry -
For help,
Help that we don’t receive -
Because the world can’t believe,
That black girls get eating disorders too,
And how do i know this - it’s because i am living proof -
That black girls get eating disorders too
CONTEMPLATIVE DIMENSIONS-:-
conceived
inscribed
transformed
implicit
scrutinised
AHEAD OF TIME
perpetual
sequenced
impressions
intuitively
transcending
in a DECORATIVE SYMMETRY
ideas
initiated
differentiated
supplement
inspiration
Our bodies were celebrities, before we knew fame
Privacy was a luxury, stolen from our innocence,
Our curves measured, scrutinised by envy,
Scales became friends without the empathy,
Put under a microscope, our bodies criticised for growing,
A black girls body, becomes front page news -
The buzzword they religiously used, ‘fast’ as if it were choice
Shamed for being curvy, yet paying for our shape to be replicated,
They instil hate, to make us shrink -
Just for them to showcase the bodies they claim to ‘hate’
Stealing credit, and robbing the spotlight
The aim of their game, was to install shame -
To feel better, for not being naturally shaped
Paper reviews and media highlights,
No protection, just unwanted exposure,
Contracts signed without our permission,
To showcase our bodies, like we are caged animals
Turned into a circus, to point and laugh at,
To hide the fact, that they wish they were black,
Their skin green, with the envy of our blackness -
Projecting hate in disguise of jealousy,
Trapped in a state of constant sadness,
For not living up to an image they worked hard to perfect
Our bodies, were just caught in the crossfires of their anger
Rummage
If you must.
My presence here
Is based on trust
So dressed am I
In Summer svelte
Yet you're to check
My trousers belt;
I'm scanned
As if each cell is rogue
So scrutinised
Despite en vogue
I understand
Away from home
You check my
Hydrocortisone;
The lotion for
My perfect tan
Or salve for lips
To kiss this man
Accept, do I
My gooey three
Could form a plan
For bomb plot spree
A victim
Of mis-communication
Disturbing transport's
Destination
Ungroomed
Is how my luggage ends
While protection
Of the sky depends
On just this task
For safety's sake
More pleasant if
A smile you'd break
Your focus can't be
All on me
Perhaps you're wondering
"What's for tea?"..
Or hoping soon
To get away
To pack for your own
Holiday
So here's my wish
For you to find
Credentials
Of a different kind
As poke and prod
Display and sort
Where discretion is
A last resort
So one day you may
Understand
In travel
To another land
Exposure
To some inner delving
Though required, it may be
Disconcerting
People started running,
for buses, taxis, trains,
with umbrellas no defence,
against the wind and rain,
a drowned rat cycled past,
then disappeared down a lane,
when lightening flashed, I dashed,
hoping to dry out again.
I shot past the pub’s “welcome” sign,
“No Prams or Pushchairs Inside”,
then scrutinised the menu,
for something not micro’d or fried,
with my paper, pint, pasty, and peas,
I sat by the warm fireside,
waiting for the storm to pass,
and brighter weather outside.
GLAMOUR
mores
shown off
ae moral
imperatives
symbolic
to its core s
emblematic
&superficial
a potential
put together
the spectaculare
scrutinised
embroidered
& paraded
insights
of the
passive
barely
visible
idealised
faces
brightened
loved caressed
to an
inner
perfection
A crack will appear, a hole will grow
The truth will out just so you know
Many decades of men try to hide their crimes
Some are so conceited and up themselves that they even think that they can beat time.
But while they spaff the truth and live on lies
People find new ways to crack their smile
The truth will out because for the nation it must
Too many of us dead, too many of us lost
The anguish, pain and sorrow of so many out there
We will not let the truth be buried to compound that despair.
The truth will out.
Their lies will be scrutinised.
They think that we are nothing but fools who fall for lies.
But this is above politics, here there are few rules for us and them
The truth will out and then the nation will stop and stare
With eyes of anger and raging glare.
Our people have differences yes, but when the hammer falls
When we see the tears of our people who have lost it all
Hear of stories of our children dying alone in fear
Don’t think that we’ll forget who’s responsible for a nations tears.
awareness self aware
of dark veils of ignorance
shrouding our consciousness
rotates polarity of sentience
to view inner luminescence
the offered enablement
seen by periscope vision
is then scrutinised by ego
by jaundiced perception
in dimmed colouration
once baton of awareness
shifts into the void internal
we must rest our lower mind
trusting cognition spherical
to behold God’s miracle
for detachment complete
let us celebrate our delusion
resting our head at His feet
in continuum of meditation
heart radiant in elation
looking around in wonder
nestled in quiet contentment
bliss in-pours as vibrant thunder
as we view life in astonishment
delighting in soul unfoldment
17-September-2021
The silence hurt
The empty hours
Aching to be filled
With meaningful activity
With encouraging words
The office abandoned
The empty desks
Unread bookcases
Files to be scrutinised
Would things ever revert?
The hubbub of colleagues
The banter in the corridor
The incidental exchange of ideas
The shared insights on the whiteboard
The feeling of team
A form of family
All a distant memory
Not a worthy competitor
Not a godforsaken war
Not a foreign power
But an infinitesimally small
Invisible enemy
Out of nowhere
Has changed everything
Causing a revolution
In the path of evolution
Economy thwarted
Jobs lost
Education abandoned
Caught us all by surprise
Made us hunker in our homes
Afraid to come out
Hiding behind screens
Hiding behind masks
Scrubbing hands religiously
Avoiding those we hold dear
Each interpreting the guidelines differently
Applying tailored logic
Trust breached
Will life ever return to where it was?
No one would have believed in the early years of the 21st century that English lives were being culled by evil powers from the timeless worlds of hell. (No’ 10)
No one would have dreamed that they were being scrutinised by someone who treats us like we’re a disease that swarm and multiply in the inner cities.
Yet somewhere in the gulfs of hell, minds immeasurably more evil than ours regarded our lives with such disdain and slowly and surely drew their plans against us!
I M M E N S E C O N D E N S E D
I Instructed by a plot, broken into paltry portion
M Mauled into small, mammoth to screaming speck
M Mountain range cramped, meandering cancelled
E Elements of concept squashed into essence
N No word left unchecked, numerous adaptations
S Scrutinised, all adjacent scoured thoroughly
E Erraditacate unnecessary words, edit again
C Captivate from word one, add an anomaly
O Owe the audience pleasure, build their trust
N Never accept the standard, leave cliche alone
D Dive into the character's psyche, dig their dirt
E Employing research makes validity emerge
N Nullify nonsense inclusions, nudge away distractions
S Set up captured fast in short form, stir in surprise
E Every line moves story forward, each essential
D Diagnose end point, not long form done and dusted
Beauty's Beast.
Well I'm looking but I don't see.
A little here a little there
I even looked under the stair.
In the wardrobes and chest of drawers.
I even scrutinised the floors
but look I did and could not find
am I stupid, am I blind.
You say you left it by my chair.
Well I'm sorry to say it's just not there.
I'm flabbergasted to say the least
but I think your wrong Beauty,
there is no Beast.
How high the moon in comparison
To the depths in which I sink;
How black the nightfall garrison,
How black the thoughts I think.
In every niche I see her,
Every place I think I spy
Glimpses of something proximate
In peripheral white of the eye.
I seek with fevered staring,
I seek when more sedate,
And all the time comparing
Degrees of love and hate.
The searcher and his tether
Are bound so they are one,
Through endless shifts in weather,
Inclement skies and sun.
On desert plains and highways,
Through anguish and through bliss,
On crooked wasteland byways,
Or cold metropolis.
I microscope my mind,
My bare soul scrutinised,
For scraps of clues to find
Some answers symbolised.
The heart is driven weak
By all it left unsaid,
How long must someone seek
For something known as dead.
Yet search by force of will
Until all hope is gone,
And time is all to kill,
And travel travels on…
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