My process is…
What is my process actually?
Start to type… don’t over think?
Spill onto page… well over the brink?
Is that my process?
I don’t really think so
Oh my word! I don’t think I have one
All my words I just love so…
I’m sprung
My poetry and I
My craft and I
What we have is true love… fluid
I just write… if I ‘draft’ this may just die
So I have no process
I just begin and let this ‘true love’ thing possess
My heart, body and soul
And it feels so easy
I want to laugh now because I just read my last two lines and they read so cheesy
But I’ll keep them, I don’t have the heart to rip them
Off this piece
I feel I should round up all the ‘love’ ambassadors… hippies, Cupid… Et cetera
And speak to them of this peace
And if I could speak to my poetry I would have said to her
I never expected her
To be this much of a reliable outlet for my feelings
My beloved artistic release.

I’m about to do something genius
I’m about to do…
Guess what I’m about to do
I’m about to do something with these lines
I’m about to do something that probably has never been done in previous times
Writers’ police will want me for these literary crimes
Awesome, crazy and fun times
I’m about to have
I’m about to teach a lot of new words to mimes… that should make them laugh
See what I did there?
Like a whale taking a breath… I’m back up
Now take a moment to read this poem from the previous line… all the way back up.

You can’t stop me
You can’t
You picked me, shook me up all over the place and attempted to drop me
You couldn't… and still can’t
I’m a genius… **** it!
Even I have tried to explain how I do this creativity thing
…I couldn't
And still can’t
You’re probably thinking “Nigel! Modesty… keep it modest!”
My reply “modesty’s overrated, I will take it there!”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Oh, but I want…”
You see, I’ve always had controversy embedded in me
Actually scratch that… one could say controversy has been me
That friend by my side, always willing to ride
Flipping off these childish fears
Reaching into my big book of bad ideas
And they had to give me this poetic skill
A blade that cuts deep… a blade that I’ve been sharpening for years
And didn't even know it
The ‘bomb’ like those Al Shabastards
Boom! Blow it
You can’t walk away from this, if you lose a limb
Yes I took it there
Like a back hand to the universe asking “who’s your ****?”
Call me daddy
Dress like a gentleman, but underneath all this
I’m simply just bad…. Buddy.

If I were to die today
Well, what can I say?
I'd simply be dead
To overthink, is to lose your way
It ain't just all about... street cred'... flashy clothing... and being overfed
One needs to find a balance, be it at the brim
He who adds no value to your life, is the one that you trim
Off, and lose touch with
Or not associate too much with
Do not take life too seriously
I know that  I will die too, curiously...
I feel nothing even remotely close to fear
Suprise me death
You could be far... but then again
You might just be near.

I'm a man because I take a stance against *******, or modern day slavery
I'm a man because the beast inside is uncaged, my focus not wavering
I'm a man because I see beyond my nose, beyond horizons
The man  in me recognizes the lack of agility, and not the size of a python
So I chose not to fear
But to make sense of situations
And maximise self expression
The distant look in my eyes
I see it too
In Barack's eyes I've seen it too... it's true
I tend to fall off, and slip off the track sometimes
But the Almighty's seen me through the toughest of times
I'm proud to say that I know what my purpose in life is, it's mine
But to get there I've got to keep myself in check... in line
It probably will never be easy, I understand
But...
I owe it to God to remain strong and stay "This Man".

I know that I'm different
Got something inside me
That makes loads of people's first instinct to fight me
For they sense my capability
For I have an ability
I'm bigger than me
I'm bigger than one
My message could spread like warmth from the sun
I'm my mother's spirit
I'm the sense in a lyric
I'm so much to say... it comes out as hysterics
I'm pro and I'm con, disadvantage and merit
All at the same time
All in the same line
It's crazy how poetry and art have evolved
How with lack of formula and rules... I'm resolved
To be what feeling dictates
Writing, sketching, rapping, singing, praying... kneeling
I can only describe this feeling as "great!"

The scary thing is... well, not scary as such
But this evening, on my way home, I wanted to die so much
The loss of control, of not driving the mat*
That sped down the road, "Thump! Thump!" in my heart
I realised then, that I do not fear death
Constantly surrounded by pain and by strife
But not cowardly enough to take my own life
Disappointment and anger, a lump in my throat
A stump in the ground, a buoy that won't float
It's still scary though, that I thought of death seriously
Curiously looked at, as I stared down furiously  
The only thing that would make me not eager to die
Is not knowing my status with God... and where my soul would lie.