i feel sorry for most of these muslim guys, their parents took to despotic integration, facilitated by the obvious paradox of: "being" english, yet retaining an olive skin. shame on their parents, in all honesty. my parents tried the same "trick" by asking me to speak only english in the household... but after the 1997 incident my outright answer was a echoing: NO, which still resonates to this day. imagine introducing the concept of "illegal immigration" to a pre-teen kid, imagine the death-stare of the same boy, looking at home office officers... then imagine the boy punching the wall so hard as to almost break his knuckles, with the notion of leaving behind the friendships he established at primary school... reason with a child... good luck.

and i mean this with the utmost sincerity -
you can only truly integrate into a society,
given, that you also retain your native culture,
there's no cake and eating it too scenario...
thankfully i knew one muslim from
my school days who: every time he spoke
his native urdu - always appeared to me as:
humbled, that there was a father figure
hovering above him like a halo.
   now that, that: i respect.
what i do not, respect, is when people
try to "fit in" too callously -
        they turn the native's tongue upside
down, and create clapper-slang...
   with an audience of awaiting seals who
clap an approval and being taunted on?!
don't think so...
  sure mate, you got the tongue,
    but your skin is a bit of a shtick...
        can't fool me...
                and the saddest thing of all...
the children, who miss out on
the prospect of bilingualism,
  i knew a couple once...
he the fresh potato irish turned liverpudlian,
she coming from high stock *raj root,
tea farming in india... owners: not the workers,
but the sad thing was: the children were
not bilingual, i.e. "schizophrenic",
what? apparently in england, bilingualism
is a mental disorder synonymous with
schizophrenia...
                  odd... don't you think?
- but it's just sad that parents become traitors
to their native cultures, by insisting to
speak english, and only english...
  for some "strange" reason i had a drive
to encrust mother and **** my acquired
"father"...
                 no english tongue will step into
this home,
                  unless it be met with
lazy / broken-tongue polish...
    which incorporates some english words...
like: weekend, nap, *******.
                    if only these muslim youngsters
had better parents, who didn't
desire to overtly integrate into a white
society, if they retained some native spreschen...
they'd be much more,
if they only allowed bilingualism...
       this organic fact is really hard to
fathom - an organic body with an
inorganic tongue is like a mind
with the notion of a soul that turned
the anti-philosopher's stone and turned it
into: ****.
                  besides the point,
  it came to me by the most unusual of places,
parallel, to say the least, convergent in
a back alley of a railway station, akimbo,
smoking some ***...
   the exact same words...
so i gave this homeless man 10 quid
for some fire to warm up for the night
   (carlsberg extra strong 9%,
  not bad, tried it myself,
   notably when introducing citric acid
to the can) -
and he said:
                        'my mama said to never lie.'
my mother also said:
         'never lie.'
                 imagine...
    so many budding writers could have
emerged, so many, and so many of the existing
novelists could be memorable,
if, and only if: they weren't so good liars.        
         it's easier with poetry:
in poetry you don't have liars, bullshitters,
instead of exaggerations you have
that ever familiar: idealism -
the ideal lover, without the idea of a lover,
the ideal thief, without the idea of a thief of hearts:
   always toward an ideal,
        as always, toward ad nauseam...
it's just plain common sense to spot
the fakers in poetry...
               poached meat, fried meat,
barbecued meat...
                              fakers never write raw,
it's never a plate of: stake tartar.