I am not the worlds' best poet

I only write the way I feel

If you judge my words for approval

Maybe need to critise them as well

I can not write up to expectations

When fighting back my own depression

I will not conform to how you wish

Not for a long time



I do not deserve to face any understanding

I write and write for my friends to share

Even the greatest poets were misunderstood

Over the years people became to cherish them

Read them and see the tortures souls in their words

I would never bring a friend or enemy down

Never turn my back or mock them for who they are

Not for a long time



Yes I have made my share of mistakes

And I have seen America come and make history

A first step in the fight against racism

I have seen them embrace a man for what he stands for

To see past the very colour of his own skin

And to see this happen makes me feel proud

Something I thought I would never live to see

Not for a long time

Gay little poem book
sitting on the shelf
no one has a one pence
to give you a new home

Gay little poem book
big enough to Pocket
Your true love
shall steal you soon

Gay little poem book
Long forgotten
tell us all
your secrets that you hold.

Born in blue ,died in white.
From far off seas she cried.
Fathered by winds from tropical hills.
Mothered by artic tide.

So off she set ,sisters in tow.
They dance, they chase ,they play.
Fishermen fear their shouts and their cheers.
Their boats they shake and sway.

And as i float not far from shore.
My paddle close to hand.
With one last breath.
I hear her voice.
As she sings to bag-n-bun sand..

the x's on the black board
are the marks of experience
erased as the class empties

the board is nearly a blank slate again
but with faint traces of a previous life
the touch of many hands
leaves an indelible mark

the board would recollect its many roles
at the end of each day if it could
impartial to its use but glad to be free

my face is marked more permanently
frown lines now bearing down on my mouth
from both sides and above

the blue and purple bags under my eyes
store the sights that I failed to act on

I am aging
falling from the peak
whenever that was