Sunday, 28 November 2010

can't seem to help it at the moment



Nizlopi - Worry
It's time to throw away your doubt,
Throw away your blues.
Wake up in the morning,
Tear up the news.
Go on slap yourself,
It's been too long,
Put on that motown record,
Stop thinking you're wrong.

You keep worrying about yourself,

Yeah, you keep worrying about yourself.
Oh it leads to nowhere else,
If you keep worry, worry, worrying.

Is your brain all angry?

When you wake up to
Inner-city sounds,
Palastine news? 
Whether you're really in love,
Whether she loves you too,
Whether you're meant to be doing,
What you do

You keep worrying about yourself,

Yeah, you keep worrying about yourself.
Oh it leads to nowhere else,
If you keep worrying about yourself.

So tired, so stay,

So tired today,
Oh, so tired always,
So worry, worry, whoa-o.

And you keep worrying about yourself,

Yeah, you keep worrying about yourself.
Oh it leads to nowhere else,
If you keep worry, worry, whoa-o.

Yeah, yeah.

This whole love, yeah.
This whole tune, yeah.
That first love, back to you.
Yeah and this whole love, yeah.
This whole tune, yeah
That first love, back to you.

Don't keep worrying about yourself,

You keep worrying about yourself

Tuesday, 23 November 2010

This pretty much sums up today


Make of it what you will...


Saturday, 13 November 2010

losing heart, and creating

Today i said goodbye to a colleague who'd been made redundant.  Like a whirlwind romance in reverse, it all happened so fast it left myself and others shocked, upset, and, in my case at least, pretty angry. I'm going to leave my thoughts on the direction of organisations and the role of corporate thinking in charity to another blog, though - my brain can't deal with coherence right now.  So i'll stick to something fuzzier instead.

I create things in a similar way to how i tackle life - somewhat manically with more than a touch of the haphazard.  Proper planning always seems like a good idea after the event, as i prefer to depend on vaguely thought out ideas, that i figure will work out as i go. Usually they do.

Haven't made cards for ages, so it was nice to slip into the soothing focus of cutting, pasting, and just making.  I didn't even have music on, just sat in silence, concentrating on not smudging ink, or getting glue on outer surfaces.

The cards are for the wedding of two close family friends.  So weird to see him all grown up, when i can still remember taking him and his siblings, along with my own, to see Toy Story when they were all still pretty small.  As for her, i remember once, whilest temping at her dad's business, going to pick her and her younger sister up from primary school.  They sat in the office, waiting for their dad to take them home, and keeping me amused with the kind of slanging match that can only come from the lips of kids that young - focused around noses and their contents, as far as i remember.

I'm wishing them all the happiness and blessings in the cosmos.  To all my praying friends, do send a prayer out for them; for y'all who prefer the non-prayer route, maybe just think happy thoughts their way.


This one above is for the groom's parents, and the one below a section of the card for the bride and groom.



Sunday, 7 November 2010

I should be doing the cleaning - unashamed self-promotion

Dear lovely all,

Just a quick one (so many other things to share, but I need to somehow clean the house and myself in the next 15-20 minutes before heading to Keats House Museum for an afternoon of poetry near the Heath).

I just started an online portfolio to better present some of my photos - I have Flickr but that's a bit all over the place.  So I started a gallery on photoshop.com.  You can check it out right here:


I'd really love if you can give me feedback on it, with your critical hat on.  Things like are there too many photos in each album, should I arrange it differently (e.g. have pictures grouped by type/content such as live/music/landscapes/portraits etc instead of by when they were taken), quality of photos chosen etc etc etc.  I promise to not be crushed by any advice you have to offer that will make it better. So yes - there you go. Check it out. Tell your friends.  And let me know what you think.

Friday, 29 October 2010

Photos of Ramadan in America

No blog from me tonight - just a link to the most simply wonderful photos of various Muslims during this year's Ramadan.  They were taken by a couple who visited 30 different mosques during Ramadan - one for each day.

I love that the photos are so candid, and the simplicity of some makes them beautiful to me.  Most of all, though, I love that they've captured so many aspects of what the month is about.  I hope you like them too.

30 mosques in 30 days - photos

Thursday, 28 October 2010

Land Far Away

Poetic Pilgrimage's music video debut.  Watch, listen and love. xxx

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

Sunday, 24 October 2010

a few to get me started

i know - it's nearly 2... where does the time go... ok, so i know i should be in bed, and actually intended an early(ish) night tonight ahead of a full day tomorrow, but...well, i got to doing some stuff with my mum (statement for insurance, after some idiot hit her car with a van, and dragged off the bumper, then didn't even stop!!), so didn't have dinner til late, so sat down and got online. got minorly involved in a debate over racism - institutional

- - - - -

I'd written two more paragraphs, and uploaded 6 photos when the computer crashed. i now don't even remember most of what i'd written. and it took about half an hour to upload the photos anyway, so not starting that again. sorry. what started as a nice happy-despite-tiredness blog is now just a bit of a blip instead. i may attempt it again tomorrow. for now, i can't be bothered. going to bed to dream of unnecessarily violent responses to the next talk talk operative on the street who offers me 'free broadband'.

Saturday, 23 October 2010

8 hours

So, I'm typing this from bed. And that's not like 'tea and toast, lights on, music blaring' bed. Nah, it's more like 'lights off, kind of touch typing, music whispering, go to bed soon as i'm done' bed.  I'm as shocked as anyone to find myself here, in bed, with the prospect of not just up to but at least eight hours of sleep ahead of me!  I'm not sure that my heart can take the excitement.  I've not kept a diary for years, so can't actually remember the last time I slept that long, but it sure as heck wasn't any time in the near past (that I can recall, anyways, and that really is a significant factor).

I guess there's a number of reasons my body finally beat me into submission.  The past few weeks (months, years, life) have consisted of consistent lack of sleep.  Hell, I'm so bad at getting my sleep, if someone were to try sleep deprivation as a form of torture on me, all they'd get is excessive giggling, and a wildly fluctuating emotional state.  They'd definitely get no answers, though would be unlikely to believe the truth that I just couldn't remember anything!  But more on my pathologically horrendous memory another time. Let's focus on the (lack of) sleep thing for now.

I don't remember ever getting that much sleep on a regular basis.  Or at least, I don't recall ever making a habit of getting to bed on time.  I'm nocturnal - generally I hate having to be asleep any time before 3am, and even beyond.  Maybe this is why I spent so much time at Uni - freedom to be as night-loving as I wanted to be, and no-one yelling for me to get up in the morning.  Well, for the most part anyways -  Financial Accounting Lectures in my first year were 9.15 on a Monday morning - the most painful start to the week that I can ever imagine.  Anyone who showed up late had to go to the front of the class and recite the definition for depreciation. 'Depreciation is the reduction in value of an item due to time, obsolescence and blah!'.  Don't let the fact that I no longer remember it fool you - I had that definition down pat back then!

So anyways, going to bed has never been my strongest point.  It just feels like there are way too many interesting things to do rather than be asleep.  I have masses of pictures that I took at uni that are time-marked about 2am, poems written around that time, and diary entries that scrawl on for pages, with loads of references like 'tonight (well technically, last night)' - never great to be a pedant writing a diary about the past day once it'd gone midnight.

Problem is, with the whole 9-5 thing, being nocturnal doesn't really work so well.  In fact, I'd say it maybe doesn't work at all.  And yet I persist - despite good intentions, there always seems to be something urgent to start or continue at just gone midnight.  Plus, that's when I finally get my time - whe the rest of the house is asleep and I can finally do things without the hassle of calls and distractions.   The result of all this, though, is basically constant fatigue, and quite probably a number of other less obvious side effects too.  I reckon my atrocious memory is linked to the lack of sleep, as are my oft-occurring word finding difficulties, frequent ADD symptoms, tendency towards tangents, and general difficulty living in the world that doesn't exist inside my own head...

So yes, reasons for finally succumbing to my bed early(ish) for once (I realise now I've been writing this so long, I'll no longer be getting the 8 hours - I knew it was too good to last!) - the fall-asleep-in-your-manager's-face kind of tiredness really has got to stop.  I could feel myself actually not being able to focus anymore, and the difficulties of holding a normal conversation..!  Also, I've just found that the past few weeks, averaging 4 hours a night, I've become incredibly emotionally labile - any kind of minor level stress became a catastrophe, and for a few weeks I lived in a world of impending doom and tragedy.  Luckily I survived and lived to tell the tale.  But I think it was just one dip too many for my mind and body.  I attempted earlier nights this week, and Monday and Tuesday succeeded.  But then 'going out' got into the equation and a good night's sleep just comepletely jumped ship.  So tonight I'm hauling it back in, and hoping I haven't left it too long...


NB - I've started dosing as I draw this to a close - always a sign that sleep is impatient to get a look in!

Wednesday, 20 October 2010

No point, just felt like writing (unedited)

I've had one of those days today where I've decided a whole load of things. I have a habit of doing a lot of my decision making internally, so I'll just come out with something like 'ok, so I'll be moving to Scotland next year', which tends to sound a bit random and out of the blue to those around me, but has usually been the reuslt of a long bit of internal dialogue.

Anyway, the result of one of the decisions (save more) is that I plan to be in more over the next 10 months or so.  Rather than spend all that time watching youtube videos and trying to perfect my a cappella imitation of the guitar riff in Hotel California, I figured I'd take it as a time to hopefully become a bit more creative.  I'm planning to finally start teaching myself to play my Freecycle Violin with its Freecycle bow, and also play a bit more guitar, and maybe actually learn a bit more techniqe than jittery chord changes and skipping over the 'difficult' bits.  I'm hoping also to write a bit more - I think I've gotten a bit lazy of late, or maybe just caught up with work or life or what have you, and just kind of put writing on the back burner, or maybe even taken it off the stove altogether. 

I'm just attempting to finish off a letter to my best friend (does that sound too five year-old-ish? oh well, I don't care if it does) - I started it back in August...we do have a habit of taking a *little while* with our letters, but I guess the slowness is part of the joy of writing them...  So anyways, the past few days I've got really into it, writing pages on a train journey, and even on the bus to work this morning.  And it's made me realise how much I love just the actual act of writing - both the physical act of putting words on a page and just letting words tumble from my brain into any kind of readble form. Hence this post.

Maybe, though, if I'm going to be writing regular posts which don't really talk about anything at all, maybe I should change the name of this to: Wasi - inanity to insanity...somehwere in between... Hmmm.

Tuesday, 24 August 2010

In answer to the lighhouse...

~ There are no definites...~

There are no definites, no absolutes,
Or rather, there are, but very few.
Mainly, there are a series of possibilities
Each with its own likelihood of being true.
The probability of likely truth varies,
As much for each individual as for each theory ever posited.

No-one has all the answers,
No one person knows everything for sure;
Anyone, anyone at all, that claims such omniscience
Should be first to be summarily dismissed
From your list of trusty consigliari.

We’re all seeking knowledge,
On a quest of curiosity;
From the day we’re pulled,
Mewling our indignation,
Into the cold, harsh light of here,
The original rude awakening;
Until the time we’re returned to darkness,
Softly slipping or sharply shoved,
Mostly unprepared for our final earthly transition.

And so it is, why we question,
Why we take elements of every day, and dissect,
Always rooting around for the root cause,
Forever attempting to satiate that innate urge for answers.
And given that life is apparently a journey,
And we its unwilling but, nevertheless, intrepid travellers,
Then what more natural questions to pose
Than those of our origin, and our final destination?
How can we ever expect to arrive at a place unknown?
And surely our present can never achieve full meaning
If we’ve no idea of the past on which it is built?

Sunday, 15 August 2010

because sleep didn't seem to be the answer

~Catching up~

for you i will stay awake and ignore
night's call to surrender
fretful it sirens sleep, begs me to my bed til almost
i could succumb, but just
a breath from you
the merest hint that you are or have been
awake and in this world without me
and i shun slumber, shrug off buzz of doze that drones
return to puzzle how i ever can make up
every moment spent unaware and
without you

Tuesday, 3 August 2010

One I read last week

This is an old one, written after an argument with an old friend about what he referred to as 'football banter'.  And I don't mean terrace chants or the actual team/fan-related putdowns.  I mean sweeping negative comments that go beyond the game - "ah yeah, well you know those scousers - they'd nick anything not tied down". That kind of comment, that's attributed to 'banter'.  I do get a bit het up about it...

But the hate makes sense
 
You have no idea
you see yourself
reflected in them
their chants, their jeers, their cries
sea of heaving masculinity
repulsive, compelling
attractive if you're honest
--------------oOo----------------

You see yourself
you have no idea
their red your own
strident love, rising anger, fury, rage
blazoned bias
passion stamp out reason
no room for equanimity
apathy the rival
--------------oOo----------------

You see yourself
you have no idea
pride in partition
pity the uninitiated
embrace the hate
refuel partisan past
in this pathetic quest
for another man's glory
another man's downfall
--------------oOo----------------

You have no idea
you see yourself
in them
but try to fool the world
to assert misplaced superiority
no jaw-smashing glass-throwing blood-letting match-stopping
hate
your fury insidious
emanate cold
bloodless passion
crescents bloom in soft pale palms
unconscious sneer
you spit and choke
profess your love
your hate
--------------oOo----------------

You see yourself
you have no idea
reasoned defence
rationale for hate
in the right
so infiltrated,
mind warped
father to son
life long belief
--------------oOo----------------

You have no idea
you see. Yourself
Disgust misplaced
self righteous hypocrisy
inner yob cloaked in suit and tie
undertone a litany
your genteel chorus of hate
--------------oOo----------------

You see yourself
you have no idea
your red is their own
your love is their own
your hate is their own
only, their own is true
--------------oOo----------------

See yourself
you should
just like them
just like him
you have no idea

Sunday, 25 July 2010

A couple of old ones

~~Replete Exorcism~~

When last you happened upon me
My world was not empty or broken in two,
Though perhaps it was lacking - to delve would harsh.
Hectic and crowded, all and nothing at once.
Intransigent transience teeming so slowly
My own mind left me reeling,
And control had a vague and tentative hold.

And then you.

And you showed me above and beyond and around.
And the gifts that you gave were the sun and the moon and the stars;
The ebb and the flow of the waves and the winds;
The hush and the morning, silk cobweb in mist;
Still peace in the moonlight, and swift, fleeting shadows.

And you passed, as you do, though I craved your return
Until finally I saw fit to embrace your absence
And as I let go, I reached for myself
And i found you and I were me.

And so I was.

Replete, and in baffled amusement, I realised.
And I was enough.



~~If we hadn't met~~

The world would be an inordinately sadder place
If it should have been that we had not met.

Obviously, we'd have known nothing about it,
Gone on with our lives,
Spent them with others who wouldn't have been quite perfect for us,
But, in the event, worked quite well enough.
No, we'd have been pretty much unaware.

But the universe would've felt the loss of what could've been;
House-tumbling tremors at its mournful sighs.
The angels, looking down, would've shaken their heads,
Exchanged pitying glances as they shrugged wings,
Solar eclipse gestures at the foolishness of Man.

Lucky then, in our blissful ignorance,
That we stumbled on each other
And decided to stick it out.

And when we think how, no matter what our hearts' desolation
If we were to ever go our own ways,
It wouldn't be the end of the world,
Maybe, just maybe, we should think again

Saturday, 17 July 2010

~~ Purple Rain ~~

(for a.)

the night you came to be
stars, startled from their slumber
were brought the news by passing clouds
awe-struck, this stellar host vibrated
set aglow with their joy
glimmering radiance, one to the next
'til it shone clear across every constellation

galaxies hummed, strumming astral melodies of celebration
clouds erupted, their thunderous applause manifest in purple rain
honouring your new earthly existence

no longer able to hold it in, the stars burst forth
a chorus of pure light showering jubilation
cosmic t(r)ails blazing
scattering their glittering homage from every corner of the skies

so it is, they say, that shooting stars were born
and you the first among them

Thursday, 10 June 2010

Late one for May, and a few from last year

I should preface this by admitting I know nothing about haikus except the general 5-7-5 syllable structure, and the link to the seasons.  I've no idea if these would class as proper haikus in the traditional sense, but they are fun to write.

~For May~

I remembered you
quiet, grass-stained 'neath bloomed trees
smiling, sun-dappled


~Sundiata~
Sekou spat it hot
rhymes tripping from his tongue like
tap dancers on speed


~Bubbles~
Pure irridescence
light framed, sheer shimmering sphere
magic.  Then it bursts.


~Love~
A nuisance really;
anguish, longing; must be borne;
and he, unaware.


~Haiku 3~
Tadpoles of rain swim
across the window; tattoo
light beat on tin roof.

Thursday, 22 April 2010

don't ask me, because i won't remember

















It all started huddled in that red...

as I stand unplanned
melodrama demands a scene
the scarf falls apart in my hand
what was once whole explodes, expands,
becomes silk strands
filliaments of fabric, shards of light bite
the carnage of sequins ejected
this perfect sequence, expected,
it frequents my mind on a regular basis
the stasis a consequence of nonsense
memories, that time, terrible and sublime
fingers sticky with childish guilt and grime
the crime: a full-blown mime
of our estate, more a state of mind
of mine
to test weight of judgeful glare
they stare - i tear, bare
behind closed doors and keys and nets
hiss - steam jets
kiss pressure outlets
bloom late, regrets
and outstretch hands mark bets and fetch
marks set deep in the flesh of remembered wrongs

Thursday, 11 March 2010

Something a little less depressing...

R - as you requested ;0)

Crazy Good Schmuck

Freak-u-latic
Totally ecstatic
World may spin, but I'm standing still,
Big fat grin all over my face
An 'I've-got-flowers' all over the place kind of feeling going on.
Lay back and rack up
All the good stuff I've got shacked up in my head.
Check it out - how blue is that sky!
Good feeling's gone and grabbed me - now I know I can fly.
Got that bounce in my step, and the sun in my eye.
And every frown's a smile, and every smile's a grin
And every door's saying 'come on, step right in'.
Got the phone lines humming
Keep this fool's rush coming
Hear the guitars strumming, my joy their melody;
And the baseline's got me tapping time
Ain't really no reason, no rhyme
To why I suddenly feel like I'm out of my mind and control.
And the feeling's warm and good and strong
And mine.
So I consume its heat, and kind of explode
And I dance to its beat as my heart reloads on joy,
And what those in darkness long to be returned to.
And my song my laugh, my eyes my voice
And out on the street I shout and rejoice
In silence and vibrance,
Emanating it as I hold it in.
I twist and bound
Both feet on the ground
As the revelling spins around and around in my head.
And so on it goes,
Forever in one second. It glows
And tho I curb the grin, control my wings, it shows
And somehow everybody knows.
It's out.
Laid-back insanity
Something a little crazy's stepping up inside of me,
And tormenting as it's got to be at times,
It sure does feel nice
To add a little spice,
Stir up the innocence with a little vice.
Live a little and go with a grin,
Cos who knows what tomorrow might bring;
Just carpe diem and enter in to whatever you think is the real thing.
Take a walk on the wild side,
Make it a real good hard ride,
Whatever you do, make sure you've tried it out,
Cos the fun could end anytime.
Like now.


Tuesday, 2 March 2010

Unsure, unfinished

We saw it coming

But perhaps believed too well our own paltry assurances
that procrastination would work just as it had
so many times before
we swore
that time was still left
the door of opportunity only half swung shut,
not fully cleft to the jamb of beyond

So overcome and yet, shrill, insist that this
is still a warning, push back dawning realisation
truth past blatant yawning maw,
evidence, mourning, pour forth, refute, a flood

Perhaps we still can be saved

And the deniers and liars hold court,
take place of the pious, the criers, who call to their Lord
all cry 'we tried'

Saturday, 20 February 2010

Unwrapped - waiting to bear



Can you remember way back, when you first began?

How she bore you proudly, brought you into the light of a land
a world away from this damp place.
In the streaming sun, through the steaming rain,
she bore you, wrapped tight, her precious burden.

Just so, you bore me, surrounded by surgical white,
rubber and steel, this country's batik, it's cold wood.
Pounding pavement, city smart, you bore me -
an infant queen, chubby hands granting regal grace.

And so, as then, now I, always in your wake,
still precious, perhaps, but burden lifted.
In my turn I wait, back bared, waiting to bear my own precious bundle.
Body enclosed, so many layers, but missing the wrapper
and so, exposed, here, with nothing to hold.

Bearing his name, your face, her words.
I hold fast to these, to all that has been borne in my name,
that we must bear because of this face,
that has been encountered and recounted through these words.

Unbearable, the weight of this waiting to bear my own.

Monday, 15 February 2010

Walking to Brixton

(walking into Brixton, because all the buses have been diverted)

H - Where are we going?
W - Brixton
H - What is in Brixton?
W - The market, and the whole food store
H - Is Michael Jackson in Brixton?
W - Er-no
H - Where is he then?
W - Well, Michael Jackson died last year
H - Oh. Who killed him?
W - No-one - he just wasn't very well
H - Did he have a cough?
W - Maybe, I'm not sure
H - Did he go to the doctor?
W - I think his doctor came to his house
H - I think maybe he ate too many noodles.
W - Oh, ok
H - Can I pull the trolley now?

Saturday, 2 January 2010

Cor shoes

H - you have a delivery (hands me one of her building bricks)
W - OH MY GOD!!! What is it??
H - Cor shoes.
W - Cor shoes?
H - Yes - cor shoes.
W - What are cor shoes?
H - You know - you wear them, and they make you go 'hu ha hu ha cor!' like a man.

Who knew.