Category Archives: Poetry

I’m on my knees

Sweaty palms glued together like superglue

Sweat streaming down my face

Silent tears streaming

I turn around.

The classroom hissing sniggers like venomous snakes

Stinging my humiliated rage

Girls behind me laughing

Like poisonous pollen

From rotten flowers

Never been watered

I cannot escape

Cannot run

 

I’m praying in the corner

At night

The sky is pitch black

Like I’m going blind overnight

No bright moon

To guide me

Like a shinning bright light

Only the darkness

From my own sadness

I’m on my knees

On the cold painful floor

The walls are dark

With no bright colours

To make a canvas smile

Just a plain canvas

Tortured by darkness

 

I’m praying in the corner

On my knees

Pins and needles

Is what I’m feeling

No real tears

Just silent ones

Lip gloss rubs

Ignites an invisible flame

Face burning with humiliation

“Fight back” classroom goads

In my mind

I’m animal

Wanting to lash out

But frozen by traumatic tears

Only to be the freak in the freak show

I’m praying in the corner

Life as a slave

is not a game

There is no enjoyment

No laughter

Just emotionless

 

Life as a slave

Is not able to function

In a society that is full of colour

 

Life as a slave is lonely

No one to talk to

No shoulder to cry on

No hands to wipe the frustrated tears

 

Life as a slave is not a human being

It becomes an inanimate object

Like a discarded toy

in the rubbish bin

 

Life as a slave is robotic

Only relies on batteries

Batteries that are never replaced

 

Life as a slave is always black and white

With no bright colours

To create an infectious smile

 

Life as a slave is sheltering

Cut off from the outside world

Into one quiet void

No noise

No smell

 

Life as a slave is being chained

To a heavy stone

Whenever I go

The ball goes

Unable to escape

Becomes a heavy burden

Too painful to control

 

Life as a slave

Is stuck in the past

No room to smell

The air of present

No food to taste

For tomorrow

 

Life as a slave

Is in a child’s place

Seen and not heard

Every space to grow

Is hampered

By the owners ignorance

 

Life as a slave is property

No name

No identity

Just a prize

Ready to be sold

To masters who abuse it

For personal entertainment

 

Life as a slave is ongoing battle

I always keep fighting

To save the sanity

I deserve to have.

Fighting for a freedom

I always dreamt for

 

Life as a slave is just

A way of life

It’s a culture

With the norms and values

I have to adapt

Rules I have to follow

I walk down a dark secluded path

I walk past the lamppost shining bright orange light

“Paki”

I turned around

No one’s there

I turned to my front

No one’s there

It’s my mind playing tricks with me

 

I walk down the lonely path

I walk past the an isolated road sign

“Gay boy”

I fall face first

In the black opaque puddle

I turned around

No one’s there

I look ahead

No one’s there

It’s my mind playing tricks with me.

 

I walk down the lonely cold path

I through the narrow secluded alleyway

Like I was in a Halloween scene

“Nigger”

I felt soft sharp thump

I turned around

No one’s there

I turned to the front

No one’s there

It’s my mind playing tricks with me.

 

I walk up a cold dark lonely hill

I walk along the sticky muddy path

“Coon”, “Spearchucker” “Golliwog”

A sharp thud trip me off my feet

On my front face first in a pile of mud

I turned around

No one’s there

I turned to my front

No one’s there

I’m stuck where I am

It’s my mind playing tricks with me.

I love summer

Love when the sun smiles on me

The sun speaks by heat

“Just relax and live in the moment”

I just smile to the sun

The sun smiles back at me

 

I hate summer

As the sun becomes my enemy

The sun speaks by heat

Burning me with its ultraviolent rays

The weapon overwhelms

My intuitive tension tells me run

Too late

 

My innocent flesh melts onto my chair

Like I’m stuck on super pond

Of thick superglue

I panic like a mouse

My body swells with sweat

Fighting to slip the each flesh

Of my body

From the chair

My body is now war with the sun

Fighting to win the battle

That ends in a stroke.

 

I love the winter

At times

I want to watch from the living room

Droplets of snow falling

On the wet cold path

Forming mountains of snow

Like a Christmas morning

I open the door

I leave my comfort zone behind

Into the big cold white world

The cold white air

Comfronts my fears

Soothes my worries

Breeze from sky

Tell me to relax

Be a kid again

 

I hate the winter

It becomes my enemy

I turn behind

The door shuts to a big bang

It’s locked

The sky bullies me

By wind

The wind is good at manipulation

Inside I’m shivering

Biting every part of flesh

By freezing

It’s called frostbite

It bites by my own wind and shivering

My body hair thrusts for heat

To be warm from the enemy frostbites

Fighting through thick and thin

To keep me warm through

The toughest times

 

I love I hate

Ghosts

They come as voices

Voices are made of feelings

Screams that were never heard

Only I can hear them

 

Ghosts

They come as people

People like us

I can’t touch them

They can touch me

 

Ghosts

They come in cameras

Capture me by the lens

They cannot be captured by others

Only captured by me

 

Ghosts

They come as characters in a story book

Suck me in a place by their pages

Not read by others

Only read by me

 

Ghosts

They come as bullies in a playground

Beating me up with weapons

Not felt by others

Only felt by my own pain

 

Ghosts

They come in as colours

On a plain dull canvas

They are not seen by others

Only seen by me

 

Ghosts

They come as white sheets

Not seen by others

Only seen by my own nightmares

When I dissociate

I become an empty void of my human self

Without a reality

Without imagination

Without a name

Without a voice

 

When I dissociate

I become a main character

Of my own biography

That was never played in cinemas

Never watched by my audiences

But played in a state of distress

 

When I dissociate

I become a foreigner in a new country

With a new identity to integrate

Learning the language to communicate

Learning its customs and values

To feel a sense of belonging

 

When I dissociate

I’m stranded in a misty fog

My eyes become the fog light

To drift through the grey blinding clouds

Contrasting to darkness

Like a hole I cannot climb out of

 

When I dissociate

I hallucinate in a world

Where people are objects

No name

No value

Roaming around like soulless zombies

 

When I dissociate

My alters come to life

All have their own unique personalities

Deciding on who I should become

To get me through the stressful day

I am walking along the narrow street

Of London

People are busy

Bumping into passerby

Throwing their frowns

As their only weapon to

Survive the maze they’re living in

I am out of money

My heart is crying

Like a child who lost his mother

In a park he doesn’t know well

I look up

In the end

I’m still smiling

 

On typical morning

I collect the morning post

Flicking through each letter

Till I found a letter with my name

A sign of hope to end my long frustration

Opened it like an energetic child

Opening Christmas presents

Seeing what he’s got from Santa Claus

A rejection letter

My world instantly falls crashing down

Like an avalanche

Subdued into the very comfort

Of my home

My bed

I curled up a ball

Crying wishing I had died

Comes along a voice

“Never give up, it’s not the end”

I ignore the voice

I continue to weep

Wanting to gulp every breath

I have before the long road

Of frustration resume

I’ back in the battle

But in the end

I’m still smiling

 

I walk through the front door

Onto the open air

The autumn air smells sweet

Like the taste of a toffee apple

Sold at funfairs

I walk along narrow road

The scenery is quiet

Cars sleeping in their driveways

Like they are sleep

Like their drives

The fog is clouded

Blinding me instantly

I cannot see what’s ahead

I turn to around

The path becomes clouded

The houses with cars asleep

In the drive becomes a hologram

I’m stuck in this mist

Like I was in the middle of nowhere

No directions to take me home

No one to help me

No sincere voice to say

“It’s going to be alright”

Street is quiet now

I can see people

In silhouettes

Walking pass me

Like invisible ghost

From a zombie movie

Coming into reality

 

I’m powerless now

I cannot pray

I cannot cry

I cannot speak

I cannot look back

My institutions says move forward

I feel my feet wanting to move

I do what my feet says

Walking along the path

My smile becomes the light

Shining a hole

It’s bigger as I walk

The fog is faded

The streets are clear

Like a new pair of lenses

Fitted in a camera

I never owned

I still smiling.

It started with a silent cry

On how life is always painful

In the innocent days

He was not around

The rage I felt through my father eyes

Never answer the question

I always ask him

He answers the questions

With a temper on his face

A beastly roar

Send a buckle to my lip

Cut open like a dog’s bite

Bruises swell like plums

Plums which never ripped

To suck the juices through my bitter teeth

To soothe my inner wounds

“Be a man!” my father says

“What kind of man” I say with confusion

A fist to the head

I fall down

On the hard floor

I pretend to sleep

To dream the life I would never  have

 

The argument I had with my father

It began with a sincere question

On why he never cares about me

He answers me with temper on his face

Like a volcano that begins to erupt

My heavy hear pumping every blood

To fight the war

The war I am afraid of

“Bang”

A fist to my eye

I became blind for a little while

I open my eyes

To see shinny stars

Shinny stars to rescue me

“Man up” my father says

“How do I man up” I respond with confusion

I’m suffocated by the his alcoholic breath

He nurtures beer more than me

 

That’s the argument I had with my father

I’m living in a vacuum

All sucked in

No air to breathe

Suffocated by anxiety

I prance around like a feeble kitten

Scratching every side of the bag

For new air to breathe

Only for the torn holes to be close up

I’m back living in a vacuum

All sucked in

No holes to escape

Suffocated by my own frustration

I am banging in a padded cell

Punching all sides of the bag

For people to stare at me

To feel my pain

Only to be ignored like an invisible ghost

By their own ignorant imagination

I’m back living in a vacuum

All sucked in

Drowned by my own boredom

No colours to paint

A picture to smile at

I run around like confused artist

Sucked out of inspiration

Banging on each side of the bag

For others to give inspiration

No one’s there

So I’m back living in a vacuum

All sucked in

Cannot scream

Cannot fight

A catch 22

A battle always sends me

Back living in a vacuum

All sucked in

My skin colour

Opposes yours by motionless frown

In black and white movies

Where I’m always put at the back

Seen and not heard

 

My skin colour

Exposed me as an outsider

Like a foreigner in a new country

With its culture that refuses to understand

Why I behave the way I am

 

My skin colour

Exposed me to prejudice

To the fault of my own

Only to the fault of toxic minds

I cannot control

 

My skin colour

Tied me to both cultures

Fighting for acceptance from both worlds

Only to be rejected by both of them

Leaving me sucked

Inside a bewildered vacuum

 

My skin colour

Made me resent my reflection

A reflection that resents me back

Tattooed in horrible words

Appeared in unconscious wounds

Leaving me exposed to foreign pain

I struggle to anesthetise

 

My skin colour

Is what I look in the mirror everyday

To my reflection that bombards me questions

I’m too scared to answer

Only for the answers to be thrown back at me

Like a boomerang knocking me to the conscious world

“Who are you?” Interrogated by a rhetorical question