A cold wind chills my face
as I stand on the high ridge of the cemetery,
This, here, on the grass beneath the old oak,
This is where my heart now sleeps,

Mother, she rests here.

Across her resting place, a few steps away,
Near the line of trees is the children’s cemetery,
Mother loved the sound of children,
The laughter, the energy,
The swirl of movement,

On some days, towards the dusk of a day,
I sometimes hear the wind,
And it twinkles though the branches,
The gentle breeze sounds like a chorus
of children at play in the fields of the Beloved,

This music, and this air,
This place, and this moment,
It has a peace,
And it has Mother’s warm smile,
That was her message to me,
A smile, she would say, brings light to our world,

We have no borders,
No barriers,
No divisions or colours,
We are the lovers of humanity,
That was her message,

Mother’s Day is not about flowers,
Or about chocolates,
Or cards and perfume,
Mother’s Day means ‘Life’,
Embrace Life,
The hour is getting colder
And time is friend to no one,
Remember Life.

The killers of peace,
They are the forsaken,
Their fingerprints are stained,

These are the eaters of insanity,
Violence throbs in their bones,
Souls far from the shores of humanity,

Families drowning in grief,
Communities torn apart,
And Love weeping all alone.

Beauty is theirs,
Grace is theirs,
Life is theirs,
And freedom,
Yes, freedom too,

They are the bringers of life,
Lighting away the darkness,
Giving hope in times of despair,
They are the jewels of the universe,
Smoothing away all troubles,

Treat them with love,
And kindness,
Remember them before the ticking of time,
And hold them close,
Respect and trust their bond,

Life eternal sings in their hearts.

Here, in this room,
In this place of weeping,
There is a whisper,
A yawn of dying dreams.

He never asked for mansions,
Or for grand banqueting halls,
He never asked for servants,
Or for a legion of suited waiters.

His Mother knew him,
His Child knew him,
His Maker knew him,
We don’t know him.

The sunlight fears to enter here,
Even the very air holds its breath,
The stench of another night purrs,
And no King will curl upon this pillow.

In a bed of infernal inhumanity,
Where cruelty corrodes into a life,
A lonely man is nightly crucified here,
The hymn of compassion snuffed out.

In the city the wealth runs rampant,
Suited power brokers spit and point,
A rat infested suite is not for them,
Their champagne and wines will flow on.

Remember,
The grave equals us all in the end,
That room fits King and Poor alike,
Fear the memory of what you did.

Give your ear to the voiceless,
Give your hand to the homeless,
Give your heart to the forgotten,
Give your life a moment to pause.

In the midnight light
Lightening seeks a searching soul,

Embers of dreams glow
From the dark pools of the eyes,

Silent music shimmers
And ripples over symphonic lips,

The spirit of Freedom
Lives on the pages of a new day.

I am the wrath of inhumanity,
The heart of dead eyed hatred,
I am the devourer of nations,
I will rupture hopes and bones
and strip the magic from dreams,
I swim inside you all.

Mankind stares into the abyss
of madness, chaos, and anger,
It slithers and divides us,
The leviathan of ignorance eyes us,
Something in the dark depths stirs,
It will sink and drown us all.

Unless…

Unless…

Unless…

Days of darkness loom
and the land shivers with dread
while the headlines blister with hate.

In these unknown times
the shadows claw at the truth
and the nation reeks of paranoia.

Know this…

Love will walk again in my nation,
Hands of friendship shall warm us,
and the light of unity will heal us all.

Cassius,
Muhammad,
Human,

Fighter,
Revolutionary,
Poet,

Fear never knew you,
Hate never knew you,
Anger never knew you,

Love knew you,
Peace knew you,
Charity knew you,

You gave us hope,
You gave us trust,
You gave us unity,

We all know you,
We all love you,
We all miss you,

Be at rest gentle soul,
Be at peace sweet soul,
Sleep the sleep of champions.

Never leave for tomorrow
what you should have said today,
Time is merciless,

Sometimes, in the way of the world,

We lose track of the priorities,
We lose track of loved ones,
We lose the very thing which makes us smile.

Loss of love teaches us,

One day,
And that day will come,
You too will sit back and remember.

They may reduce a building to rubble,
The men of violence may break our bones,
And the killers of peace may silence a city,

But know one thing...

The spirit of Love
and Peace
will forever fly.

The tides of Easter twilight,
In these skies glowing with colour
I see an eternal message,
It speaks of a love deeper than time,
This is the music of humanity,
Remember each other,
And kiss the lips of peace.

Upon the tides of Easter,
A King was chained to a crown,
And shackled to the cross of ages.

Into Freedom's fields
walked this blessed giver of
miracles and mercy.

Who dares to cage and nail his brother?
Who dares to drill a poor orphan’s soil?
Who dares to cancer the beauty of peace?

Remember Him,
Love Him,
Heed Him.

They call him Malik,
‘Mad’ Malik,
In the streets he tiptoes and dances,
From cold of dawn
to the dark of dusk,
He weaves and swings to beats,
On streets corners and by bus stops,
He shouts and sings,
Cars brake hard and drivers wave and smile.

In sun, wind or rain,
In storm, heatwave, and in the shade,
This man is the spirit of our streets,
His zesty zany jiving
It touches black and white,
It reaches young and old,
He makes us stop and pause,
Call him what you may,
But in his heart he hears music of the soul.

A rare human indeed,
Not one to be chained in an office,
Not one to run the rat race,
Not one to follow orders or conform,
He dares to do what others dream,
He dares to scream in the rain,
He dares to taste snowflakes,
Freedom wild and uncontained,
‘Mad’ Malik long may you dance away human pain.

International Women’s Day,
Let it be a day of celebration and hope,
of peace and life,
and of real love that knows
no borders, race, or creed,
A day of humanity, charity, and friendship,
Let it not be a day of regret,
sadness, or broken bones.

Too often,
under an avalanche of chocolate and flowers,
of shattered dreams
and torrents of lies and abuse,
people forget the real grace,
strength, contribution,
and importance of Women.

Mother, My Mother,
My fingerprint of Humanity,
The soul of my soul,
I miss you so much,
In the hardest winter of existence
Your smile still warms my weeping heart,
One day, I know not when, we shall meet again,
And I shall feel your warm embrace again,
And winter will melt away into memory,
Nor shall there be tears or weeping of the willows,
I shall stand atop the highest hill
And the rain will wash away all grief,
And the spirit of Love will sing,
It will sing of a love deeper and older than time,
It shall sing of a hymn written by the Beloved,
And the melody will be Life,
And the lyrics will be of birth and hope,
And the chorus will be sung in valleys across Heaven's shires,
Mother, My Mother.

There was Love,
and there was Trust,
and there was a child of Hope,
Peace glittered upon the jewels of Life.

A city burns,
a road to hell opens,
and in that fire and fury,
comes a judgement older than time.

Love is…
to breathe,
to hold,
to feel,
to kiss,
to heal,
and to be free.

Love each other,
Love one another,
Love here and now.

One Love.

From the crack of cold dawn,
With a wheelbarrow trudging along,
On roads bitten by frost,
He would whistle on his way to work.

This gentle man,
A voice husky with Irish gold,
He would smile and talk,
His kindness for one and all.

One winter’s day, on a crowded bus,
He got up and made room
for my Mother and my Aunt,
He cemented his humanity into all of us.

The local kids knew him,
The streets and roads knew him,
We all knew him,
And he was trusted by all who knew him.

Tonight, the streets are silent,
Tonight, the tarmac is wet with tears,
Tonight, there is a song in heaven,
Tonight, a gentle man has left us.

Inside all of us glows the heart of peace,
One day upon the wings of weeping peace,
There will be those in love with life and peace,

Those fortunate few seeking rare pleasures,
They will find the Treasure of Treasures,
Death will have no power or measure.

Stand under the raining twilight,
Stand under the kiss of night,
Stand under the reason of light.

Days of blood and pain,
and of heartache and betrayal,
they come and stain us.
But know this,
a new day will dawn,
light and mercy will once again rise and glow.

The flow of life will one day ebb and die,
All flesh will one day in the ground rest,
Even stone and marble will one day decay.

Seize what you have today,
Savour what you have today,
Love each and every day.


*NOTE: Dedicated to a sweet and sincere lady who last night left this world. She leaves our world richer with her heartfelt poetry, her warm smile, and her passion for her fellow human beings.  May she rest in peace in the home of the eternal Beloved.

The white feathers sail through the winter's whispers,
It is the bird of hope,
She is the dove of joy and love's peace too,
Her music carries the pure blood of the red rose,
In her beak she carries a message older than the universe,
It reads...
*"Humanity,
Drink from my cup,
Dip your heart in my love,
And rise to sing the glory of peace,
The child of mercy has been born.
I am the herald of the New Year.
The majestic Beloved, my eternal maker,
His music sings of the brotherhood of nations."

Be the spirit of new hope,
Be calm and be free,
Be happy and serene,
Be the beauty of new born peace,
Be loving and be kind,
Be in touch with the glory of the divine,
Be human,
Be gentle,
Be united,
Ameen.

Total ease,
and complete trust,
Time circled and raced,
And the madness of the world silenced.

It was as if I was talking
to a reflection of my soul,
You have integrity and belief,
and you stand for what you believe in.

Love is what I see in your soul,
This world is filled with too much fire and noise,
hollow words and rage,
and negative vibes run amok on the stage.

Good people like you
are the antidote to all this paranoia,
What we had yesterday was serenity,
Respect and sincerity.

So many people are ill,
angry,
and never satisfied
despite having money and status.

Friendship and Trust,
Unity and Hope
are more precious
than the cold allure of gold.

I spent a few hours with a kindred spirit today,
and I was energized by the hope
and positive energy she spread.

A gentle soul like hers is living proof
that no matter how dark our world becomes,
there is still light and compassion.

The world is getting colder,
getting ever darker,
and becoming ever more violent.  

If each one of us reaches out to the person next to us,
and strikes up a few words of kindness and humanity,
we can bridge the gap,
and drive out the ignorance and paranoia.

To all the ships out upon frozen seas,
to the orphans who snuggle alone,
and to the families adrift upon oceans of grief,
and to those who shelter in the ruins of a toothless city,
and the ones who shift through bins for scraps of food,
and to the animals abandoned along lonely and forgotten lanes,
I say this:

The Beloved Knows...

Reach out to the light in your heart,
Warm each other with kindness,
And trust the beauty of peace.

This is what Churchill
and his cabinet did to Dresden,
Total apocalypse,
A city reduced to rubble,
And families burnt to smoking ash.

We are doomed to repeat
the savagery and
barbarism of the past,
Skin and bone,
Glass and broken stones.

Anyone who supports attacks
on fellow human beings,
or defends mass ******,
Or speaks in favour of further bloodletting,
they are truly enemies of the human race.

Our world has suffered for too long,
Those who sell weapons,
You who profit from bullets and ****** bones,
and those who profit from igniting wars,
they are the ones who degrade us all.

What will we tell our children?

Upon fields far from home,
There is blood dripping on poppies,
Young lives harvested before their prime,
Their dreams and hopes seeping into foreign soil.

The sky glows with ***** rage,
Smoke screams upon the stale air,
The fire incinerates the crops of truth,
Darkness reaps a hymn through the foggy fields.

Ravens scavenge for souls,
The petals of truth wilt and burn,
Scars claw through fertile fields of earth,
The teeth of barbarism dig Death’s stinking trenches.

The blood of the Saviour,
High on the highest hill of war,
With nails of rusted meat and bone,
Play the pipes of peace and sing love’s lilting tune.

Stop, pause, read, and think,
Before you point at me,
Before you shout at me,
Before you cast judgement upon me,
Before you **** me.

What you see before you is…
My bed,
My bag,
My shirt,
My humble home.

I exist here,
In this leaking place,
Cold winds tear through here,
Purple pain injects into me,
Into my bones seeps the autumn rain.

I have art sprayed here,
Free from the confines of a museum wall,
I have songs here,
Songs my beloved Mother sang to me,
True and real, they wipe away my tears.

I am a son with no hope,
I am that daughter you sold,
I am the forgotten soldier,
I am a country forsaken,
I am all alone.

Fear Mongers, they cage and make us blind,
Fear Mongers, they climb into sleeping minds,
Fear Mongers, they slaughter and divide,
Fear Mongers, they lie and in the darkness hide.

Fear Mongers, they lead to the death of another day,
Fear Mongers, they are the shadows in the sun’s rays,
Fear Mongers, they burrow into brittle minds,
Fear Mongers, they make bitter the sweet wine.

Fear Mongers, they rupture the dreams of love,
Fear Mongers, they poison the blue skies above,
Fear Mongers, they corrupt diamonds into stones,
Fear Mongers, they corrode and snap fertile bones,

Fear Mongers, they make us twist and turn,
Fear Mongers, they spit and fuel the fires of hate,
Fear Mongers, they crumble empires into dust,
Fear Mongers, they lacerate the eyes of trust,

Fear Mongers, they leech the light of life,
Fear Mongers, they stab the crust of existence,
Fear Mongers, they scratch us with nightmares,
Fear Mongers, they stain the books of truth.

*Beware the Fear Mongers…

When things go wrong…

We cast blame,
We heap accusations,
We shovel suspicion,
We hurl abuse,
We point fingers,
We spit doubt.

Oh God, why war?
Oh God, why ******?
Oh God, why famine?
Oh God, why sickness?
Oh God, why poverty?
Oh God, why injustice?

When things work out…

We award ourselves,
We praise ourselves,
We celebrate ourselves,
We toast ourselves,
We pat ourselves,
We acknowledge ourselves.

I did it,
I did it all,
I did this,
I did that,
I did,
I did.

Did you, really?

Christian, Jew, Muslim,
And Human,
This was a city of Humanity,
All rested and shared here.

We all played here.

Israel, Palestine, Earth,
And flesh and bone,
This was a city of Unity,
All sang and worshipped here.

We all held hands here.

Stones, bullets, drones,
And weeping mothers,
This was a city of Peace,
All fruits and flowers here.

We all ate here.

Anger, violence, fire,
And putrid lies,
This was a city of Truth,
All spoke and respected here.

We all listened here.

Before I was Jerusalem,
Before I was Palestine,
Before I was Israel,
I was a child here.

*We are all forgotten here.

If some Mother could see this now,
And know that her child slept here,
In a tight shed of death and decay,
What would she say?
How would you answer her tears?
Would you dare to meet her gaze?

This is a place of eternal sleeping,
Of wrapping dreams in asbestos,
Cockroaches and leeches reign here,
Those who weep here are ghosts,
The fingerprint of torture marks them,
They have no name, only merciless pain.

Through the window a waxy light leaks in,
Casting wispy streaks across a damp floor,
Each step squelching on the moist moss,
The air is stained with invisible cancer,
This is a cell where Death throws his dice,
The squares of life are fragmented here.

*** ends, broken bottles, needles, empty cans,
Torn rags, and shoes with holes and no laces,
Peeling plaster, and electrical veins exposed,
Razor blades clogged with bloodied hair,
Hope, broken and cracked, smoked and gone,
Fear lurks in every corner, all teeth and claws.

Four claustrophobic walls, doors crushing in,
Held together with the glue of desperation,
This is a house, a bed, a self-made coffin,
No radiators of home and comfort here,
No hope, no form, no fixed abode, no nothing,
They who snuggle here are by poverty ravaged.

Still, through the bitter hunger,
Through the dirt and the daily thirst,
Through the headline of stagnant lies,
Upon the table something yet shines,
In a world of black and white,
The colour of Truth brightly shines.

We are richer than we know,
and still blind to our wealth,
Remember this,
not all wealth can be held,
measured, or felt by human hands.

There is some wealth
richer than all of that.
It glows right before you.
Reach out with the mind's eye,
And place the treasure in your heart.

He cracked her cheeks,
He tore to ribbons her dreams,
He sliced and licked her life,
He spat venom into her veins,

His hands dug into her soul,
His eyes poured hatred over her,
His words burned inside her,
His twisted lies killed her trust,

She clings to a glass of Hope,
She stares into pain's abyss,
She has tasted bitter rain,
She stood all alone in the storm,

She dares to spread her wings,
She dares to play with the air,
She dares to live once more,
She dares to fear no more...

Crown of Iron,
Tears of Freedom,
Shards of Hope,
I am all of these,
And more,
Much more,
I am a Man.

For those who never came back,
For those who were told fragrant lies,
For those who once dreamt of peace,
For those who sleep in forgotten soil,

For those who left behind fresh faced roses,
For those who waved away weeping mothers,
For those who sang the dying hymns of life,
For those who once farmed and tilled the land,

For those who slipped and fell in spiked ditches,
For those who danced with bayonets and bullets,
For those who serenaded the shrieking shells,
For those who drank and sank in slippery trenches,

For those whose bones bleach in desert dust,
For those whose blood and hopes were betrayed,
For those whose lives line the poppy and flags,
For those whose souls were sacrificed for us all,

*For them there is no today, only yesterday…

I have seen emperors fall,
And I have seen empires crumble,
I have felt the tears of history,
And I have bled the blood of nations,
I have witnessed slavery,
And I have watched freedom die,
I know the silence of a hollow heart,
And I know the pain of memory,
I stand here mute and cold,
But one day I will dare to speak,
Fear me on that dread day...

In a world rotting with death,
Piled high with decay and mess,
In a land where flags are flesh,
Where the carrion crows fly,
The birds of Freedom die,
Their nests encrusted with lies,
Our Earth coughs and withers,
Our birds float on dead rivers,
Our nation with fear shivers.

"I am not alone,
In the city of faceless shadows
I walk in the light of the Beloved."

The night of my soul is here,
And the ship of my life has sunk,
My songs scatter over the dark skies,
And my hopes melt upon the breath of the sun.

But know this...

A new song will rise,
A new light will shine,
A new day will dawn.

Choices…
There are always choices,
Each day presents us with new choices.

Paths…
There are always paths,
Each step leads us towards so many paths.

Mistakes…
There are always mistakes,
Each experience coughs up a set of mistakes.

Time…
There is always time,
Each hour of each day gives birth to more time.

Chance…
There is always chance,
Each spin of our life throws up a fresh chance.

To marry, or not to marry?
To run the rat race, or to relax?
To argue, or to remain silent?

Children, they are gifts, treasure them,
Without a job how can you ever relax?
Speak your mind, let your words be free.

You stand at a crossroad,
Behind you lies all that was,
Ahead of you lies all that there is.

Step forward…

There is art housed and closed,
It stagnates in museums
Under cold lock and key,
People come and point,
They nod and take notes.

And then there is art right here,
Open and fresh and free,
Look there, right there,
In the darkness eyes glow,
The art of the city embraces us.

Beauty drips from the tunnel wall,
Colour glistens and paint ripples,
This is art wet with the lips of passion,
I heard them say a pop star came here,
I say the street art star is always here.

Something with the rotten breath of ignorance stains our city,
It was out there on a bright afternoon spitting and snarling,
The beast stepped out into the glittering sunlight without fear,
It crawled out from the coffin of a car towards Carrs Lane Church.

This beast was a cheap and violent punk of Pakistani descent,
What he did brought shame to the proud land of his ancestors,
He came with fire blazing from eyes red with the **** of waste,
His chin peppered with a designer beard which bristled and itched.

The car door lay open behind him as he ****** the air and snorted,
He stepped towards the youth handing out ‘The Stylist’ magazine,
The only sound was the blade of words which sliced the atmosphere,
He pointed, jabbed, spat, postured, and hissed at the delivery boy.

No one offered any help,
All looked away,
In a place packed with people
No one said a thing…

Until…

A schoolboy, from the lilting land of sun and calypso stepped out,
He confronted the **** who threatened the delivery boy,
The school kid stood calm and showed not an ounce of fear,
The volcanic heat and rising anger of the bully suddenly deflated.

Another door opened and another stinking blind beast stepped out,
He slithered out to aid his cowardly and quaking friend,
And that was when another schoolboy stepped in to offer help,
This lad was descended from the fair fields of faraway Pakistan.

The black boy, the brown boy, they stood together, warriors both,
They stood their ground and protected the white delivery boy,
This was brotherhood without colours, this was unity without borders,
The bullies limped back into their car, clamped the doors, and sped off.

Our kids,
They know unity,
It is we who build divisions,
We are to blame for the rising tide of suspicion.