Pray for Pakistan

One little girl, who is fair of skin,
is stolen away from her kin,
and God forbid news comes she dies,
well the whole world stands as one and cries.

Two young girls with darker hair
are stolen in the night – it’s quite a scare!
Found days later, no clothes, no shoes,
it is fairly likely to make national news.

In a foreign country the sirens start:
Seventy human beings are torn apart,
and all we say is “it’s such a shame.”
One day of coverage points the finger of blame.

We are blaming people for the pain they feel.
Blaming them as we begin to kneel
to pray for Germany, for Orlando, for France,
but Pakistan doesn’t get a second glance.

We distance ourselves by the colour of our skin
Or, just as bad, by the God we believe in.
We are allowing a world that promotes segregation,
a media promoting a white, Christian nation.

Islam is not a religion the world should fear
and the Muslim community must shed a tear
every time they are demonised for the acts of a few
who are no more Muslim than Hitler was a Jew.

We should have equal love for those in need,
no matter their race, their colour, their creed;
If you say you have love for the followers of Islam
then get back on your knees and pray for Pakistan.

Colour

When you are born there is no book
to tell your mum that the way you look
could see you executed in the street,
or beaten like a piece of meat.

When you are born you’re not given a sign
that says “I’m black – my life’s not mine;
Do with me what you want to do,
You’re free to think I am not worth as much as you.”

When you are born and your mum holds you tight,
She doesn’t imagine one day she will watch you fight,
having being told, as you lose your life,
that the wallet you held was supposedly a knife.

On the streets of the U.S.A
this is the reality every day.
Men with skin the same colour as mine
are slaying those darker before their time.

Whether our hair is blonde or black,
our skin is dark, or it’s melanin we lack,
we are all worth the same.
We are all humans, and I am ashamed.

Ashamed that some don’t see
there’s no difference between you and me;
White, beige, brown or black,
that is a life you took – you can’t give it back.

I was born white so will never know the same fear.
Our black brothers and sisters should be revered
for the courage they show every day,
In the face of those who will take their lives away

in the blink of an eye, watch them die,
shoot them 41 times whilst the whole world cries
at another black life mercilessly taken,
their human rights again forsaken.

Your beliefs do not make you better than anyone else.
Your brains do not make you better than anyone else.
Your sexuality does not make you better than anyone else.
Your skin colour does not make you better than anyone else.

There is only one thing in this world that raises us above;
that is the way we treat our fellow man and the way we love.

Equally. Openly. Freely.

If you believe that you are worth more because you are white,
or are more important because your hair falls straight and light,
I believe that your heart must be cold and your thoughts are skewed,
And we will stand beside our black brothers and sisters
and stamp out degressive, unjust people like you.

One day, a black mother will look deep in the eyes of the child she made,
and her heart will be happy, knowing that he need not be afraid.

The state of the States

How can it be that on a day like today,
the State of Ohio can take your life away?
How could twelve people – considering themselves right –
take a stranger’s life and turn out the light?
I don’t understand it, it is nonsense to say
that any crime constitutes worse than a life locked away.

Consider me this, it’s a dark dreary night,
we enter an argument that turns to a fight,
when it comes to an end I’ve beaten you black
so along come the police, shackle my hands behind my back.
When it comes to court, the verdict is read:
the State of Ohio will punch me in the head.

Or what if you were to enter my house,
pick a lock and creep like a mouse
around my property picking up my treasures,
cleverly avoiding all security measures.
What you didn’t see was my surveillance camera
so now you sit at the mercy of the judge’s hammer;
For taking from me – which you should not do –
the State of Ohio will now take back from you.

I suppose the most barbaric you may think
would be if a man spotted a woman who’d had too much to drink;
He takes a chance and slams her to the ground,
rips off her clothes and begins to pound.
Now if he were found guilty even ten times over –
as punishment would we take him out back and bend him over?

If you think that my examples are strange,
then imagine I just shot you at point blank range;
what now would you cry for my punishment to be?
A wet sponge on my head and I’ll meet old sparky?
Or how about you lay me out and tie me down,
pump poison in my arm and watch me drown
as I can no longer see, I can’t even breathe –
the State of Ohio has killed me.

This is the law – an eye for an eye;
The State of Ohio putting its people to die.
We shouldn’t have the power to say
when people see their very last day.
Those in favour of the penalty will shout
“we only kill those who killed beyond reasonable doubt”
and I return straight back to an eye for an eye
and the fact that twelve strangers deciding someone dies
is downright barbaric, it’s practically medieval –
why don’t we get some women and douse them in diesel
burning them for witchcraft just in case;
if you’re tried for treason we could twist thumbscrews in your face?

I think you’ll agree, that it just isn’t right
yet it’s fine to pull a belt around me really tight
and get my veins showing really well
inject me with poison and put me through hell.
You might be one who argues that this is humane,
well I’d like to argue for tests to your brain
to check that everything is working as it should,
because you’ve lost your compassion – you’re not good.

How can it be that on a day like today, that I still cry
because countries the world over put their own people to die.

(February 2016)

Real Life

It seems so silly when they apologise to me
for the inconvenience that you caused
when you had had enough of life;
When you were that dangerous mix
of sad, scared and brave that some of us fear,
And others envy.

What about the inconvenience
To the life you could have lead?
To the person you could have been?
To the partner you could have had?
To the reality of your dreams?

No one should talk of the inconvenience you have caused me,
just the sadness I feel
about the life you left behind when the pain you felt
got a little too real.

(February 2014)

The Captain

Are the words trapped with your croaking voice?
Lost under gasping breath.
Do they sit on your tongue?
Do they watch the last of your days
From behind your greying eyes?
Are they the words that hang on every second,
Every minute you have left?
The words we all pray you dont want to say
when you open your mouth
only for no sound to come out.
Please don’t let it be
that what you scream when
you look quietly at me
Is “im scared.”

(February 2014)

Torture Me

More than seven years have gone by
since you closed your eyes to die.
All my skin has grown brand new,
none of it is tainted by you:
Your hands, your fingers,
the cigarette breath that lingers
on every memory that tortures me.

Imagine that, my skin is mine,
every pore and every line,
given back to me to love;
Pure as the white of the wedding dove.
It feels as dirty as it ever did,
as dirty as the secret life you hid.
With every memory, it tortures me.

Will my body ever be mine?
Or just a capsule locked in time,
to harbour pain, to harbour hurt,
hollowed out and filled with dirt.
You took my happiness to the grave,
so as I face the day I must be brave
and forget that you once tortured me.

(January 2016)

My Guy

You had me down on my knees
begging for the strength to leave,
but praying that I would not go
and leave the only love I had ever really known.
You ripped my heart straight from my chest,
and yet I knew you were still the best.
You will always be the best.

You cast a spell that fixed the hell I’d once known,
sucked the poison from my bones.
How could I not forgive the pain?
As tears bled I knew they would dry again.
I always knew that you would try
and you would always be my guy.
You will always be my guy.

So as we walk forward hand in hand
my thoughts slip away, infinite grains of sand;
we’ll never talk of them again.
When it stabs me now and then,
my tears will fall as you hold me tall,
wipe away the memories I cry.
You will always be my guy.
You will always be my guy.

(January 2016)