‚ÄčI was always on time as a child,

I’d rarely miss a thing,

Never forgot a name or face,

Not a time nor a place,

And what place and times aligned the day I met my wife,

we met at a friends party of some sort when we were…14…15?….anyway we were young

and the love gradually accrued as it does,

it is and was the best thing to ever happen to me in life,

Two kids and a no ha…a dog….and…and three kids,

we’d always umm……we’d always do something on a mm…mmm..on a saturday,

tell a lie, it was sunday..

and uhh….where was I…

yes…it was christmas day and I know it’s cheesey but…we sang..for the first time,

I can always sing a song…even still,

hope is always so cruel when things begin to fade…

the day I died…

when I forgot my wifes name that was the day I died,

Margret, mary? Martha?

Looking dead in her eyes as I searched for the name I had often held so dearly between my lips,

not even my mind will let me reside inside it,

how dare I ask of my family to….to…to.

I can’t…I can’t remember why I feel my emotions,

we’d…we’d always go for walks on saturday…or was it sunday..



When meeting what I thought was just another grain amongst the sand,
beautiful though the sand is,
I never thought meeting a rock would be so impactful.

You’ve, rocked my world, made things rocky.
You are my rock, the precious stone I’ve found,
I hope that you become the rock I stand on,
when times are rough on shaky grounds,
or better yet in meeting we’ll become the rock,
the foundation of something that will make the sand storm.



So a couple of days ago I lost my oyster card (which was illogical enough on it’s own as I rarely loose things – but lets not get into that). For those of you who don’t know what an oyster card is; think of it as the keys to your car, only your car is public transport and it’s consistently unreliable.

Well now fast forward to present day, or even yesterday when I came up with this ingenious idea to ride my bike into college, which is a 5.8 mile journey – bare in mind I don’t generally ride a bike [my bike is like a testament to Plato’s theory of forms as mine is clearly so very far from the perfect form].

As if being slowly passed by stationary objects on this practically obsolete metal and wheels I have the regrettable misfortune to call my bike, London decided it was well overdue for a good showery rain (which being mixed race and having just washed my hair was another cause for concern). Road rage was a rather foreign idea to me but I think I’ve had my very first taste, only when I started ranting for all to hear, it wasn’t about the reckless driving, road hazards or learner drivers. No, my anger was based at London’s waterfalls and in shouting at the rain the weather decided to fight back in gusts of wind; as if to slowly and benumbingly dry my clothes, to no avail I might add. The harder push up hill against wind was fun though.

What’s the moral of the story you might ask? Well when you find out…please be sure to let me know @

Change asks no questions

Seeing the little sides that I used to see,
seeing things a little how they used to be,
the old jokes and old quirks,
old you in the new place and old works,
missing things of someone that I used to know,
in light of that the new one I’m getting used to though,
but situations don’t go the same way they used to go

Nostalgic phases echo times that I hold dearly,
you claim you’ve changed but even in your claims I can see it clearly,
change scares and I s’pose you’ve evoked a fear see,
cause the old you used to love to hear me,
you used to light up and used to blague when you were near me,
now convo’s dead and I’m the plague whenever you are near me,
cause when we talk I seem to make you dreary,
I tread careful cause you make me weary

I can’t hold it against you, people change,
but I don’t like it and I won’t pretend to,
I only wish that some things stayed the same,
I’ve spent my heart, time and what I had to give,
I didn’t ask for much in all of this,
but when I’ve spent my heart and paid in pain,
it’s kind of hard when no one’s asked if I want the change

Is there a time for reflection?

The reflection in the glass as you stare out the window,
Putting you amongst the world you look out on,
The reflection in the water as you gaze at it’s movement,
The waves repeating a vague figure somewhat familiar

I see the whole of myself as I am as of now,
See the flaws and my strengths juxtaposed in it’s true essence,
A glance in the mirror for the one true acceptance,
Accepted by the face of my reflection

You are accepted by the water, by the mirror on your wall,
by the window you look out on, any blemish in your soul,
any mendacity in your words, any malevolence in your actions,
your reflection will ultimately reject them,
If at the end of your life you became your reflection,
Would you be so unconditionally accepting?


I don’t know why it’s so hard to do something that once was so easy,
Spreading love was like breathing,
Granted when I bumped my head I acted broken hearted,
But if our hearts were on our sleeves with ease and that’s just where we started,
And now we find it hard just to say three words to our dearly beloved,
Let alone the ice cream man who settles our cravings or the masked Disney character and all the smiles they’ve been making,
We all hide ourselves and tread cautiously when mentioning love and then we’re all just left broken hearted cause we all just want to be loved,
That try to word it differently and can’t just let it be love,
Acting like people don’t deserve it barely get to see love,
That don’t forget about me love,
That loving out of greed love,
Rid the need for something back let’s just make it free love,
Phased and plagued with timid cages just break free love,
please love,
Don’t leave love,
Love was at the stheart of all and clear to see we need love,
I guess its up to me love,
As I look at you in all your glory I finally start to see love,
You’re like a seed love,
I need to feed love, do love, be love,
I want you to succeed love, I play a part in this concealment only you can break the seal love, only,
Love, breeds, love.


The words whispered woefully as he dropped to the floor “what am I now, you’ve already killed me tenfold”. Barely balancing on the world crumbling beneath him, these challenges bestowed on a man who’s only true crime was the love he failed to show himself. She sits up with the rose like blotches on her clothes holding his face between her palms, bringing his head to hers with their tears meeting like conjoining waterfalls she says, “If I live on, I live in you, don’t trap me midst the shadows of resentment but rather cherish me amongst the drives and splendour of your dreams”.


I try not to add to the wasteland of words,
The words that are spoken but never are heard,
Speak gently tread careful the people you speak to,
People lend ears but lent ears are deceitful,
Questions are loaded beguiling our engagement,
Answers foreseen ensuing their arrangement,
They listen to talk and talk so you listen but only add to the wasteland of words