Tag Archives: death
Benjamin Zephaniah
Politricks
satire and humour
you taught me that behind clever rhymes
is the life played on repeat
even if it’s on the rong radio station
you lived your life as a warrior poet
with your black belt
and heart felt verse
you spoke words not to fill your purse or wallet
but because you wanted to make a change
in this world of racism and drama
you wanted better karma for us all
though your words have been graffitied onto walls
and written in our minds for all time
Rasta master poet
the man with the flow don’t we know it
a dread degree in ghettology
but a man of philosophy and psychology with
eloquence who spoke to us all
and with a tear in remembrance
I celebrate your life
may you walk in heavens fields
and may we never yield to injustice
like you taught us
because you taught us life’s value
and the value of all people
anarchy and self determinism
we choose our fate
to fight for what’s right
like you’d say is never too late!
The labyrinth of our life
A manual for being human
Exit womb
enter hospital room
feed of your mums breast
grow big and strong
play and learn
have an active imagination
listen to the voice that guides you
and makes the most sense
write your story present tense
find beauty in what you like to do
it’s that simple
Make your smile into dimples
don’t focus on looks
it’s your soul being tempered
by life’s fires
give it what it wants
you can change the narrative even if it’s the font
remember people love you even if life gets in the way
be a compassionate friend to yourself first
The Damned spoken word podcast
Self isolation sleeping beauty
Sleeping on a bed
waiting for the world to stop it’s lockdown
you are a vision of beauty
waiting for this pandemic pandemonium to cease
you didn’t eat a poisoned apple
you just sleep,
waiting for the apocalypse
or a prince’s lips to kiss
oxygen is hard to come by
and we can’t let you go
you sleep, waiting for the virus to stop
we give you a shot
of antibiotics.
The nurses and doctors know
that you a few days left to show
whether you’ll recover
your life and find a lover.
But this life is cruel and unfair
we love you
but you look back at us with a blank stare…
Ancestor’s song
These ashes
this dust,
this earth
from where I emerged
this rain
this pain
the blood surges
in my veins
these hands outstretched towards the sky
could be branches of trees
life is better taught when it dances
to music
through bodies through knees
whether we can hear the music or not
we dance to the tunes of our ancestors
their dreams beat in our chests
and bless our minds and souls
sometimes I think their ghosts watch on
or are reincarnated into our songs.
The ghost child of the man in the asylum
In side the beaten white walls of an mental institution
where people go to be uprooted from their delusions
Sat a man his hand outstretched as if holding hands with the dark
No spark to light his way, only the tragic marks his way
he used to play childish games by himself
look they say where is his mental health?
has it left him altogether why does his play childish games
he would call a name on the wind
for the child he lost unbeknown to them
Tilly or Matilda the ghost of a child of six
who he held in his arms before he was sick
she swallowed her tongue in an epileptic fit
but before then were eye spy and guessing games
before then were pin the tale on the donkey and blind mans buff
I guess we are all in a way sheltering memories like ghosts
In the places in the heart we hide
which we can never move away from no matter how we stride
or how many steps we take
life is sometimes an evil fate.
To die at sixteen
All your dreams never started
dearly departed
That’s how I felt
Kneeling on a hospital floor praying to you
to save my life
you are my goddess of wisdom
my teeth going rotten
like the dreams I had as a child
it’s heart wrenching
my parents said my psychosis
was a bereavement
the life intended, lost
I had to be mended there would be a cost
goddess of the universe, girl with many faces
I have been through a war with myself
but my mental health
is the thing I can never get back
but sometimes their are cracks of light through the wall
I know the goddess understands us all.
Petals
The petals which open
the heart awoken
then begin to decay
the love is the same love
as I had first
leaves me cursed
and yet singularly its all I have
a smash and grab
god singular
going for the jugular
a vampire
who’s name has no meaning
blood wine
and bread flesh
can’t contain
the rain that falls
Or the sun that shines
but from your diamond tears
I form mine.