stars are held in a window
and sometimes the moon,

lopsided stacks of books,
knotty papers are strewn,

i like to rest on the boards,
day dream, scents of pine,

it's quite a lovely mess up,
still have space to dress up,

in a nook are some shelves,
i trained to hold dear photos,

so love to see in my wee loft,
poems, my cat, postcard art,

and my pane glass view I call,
full moon in garland of stars.

In the over-crowded buildings
Rife is passive creatures
That attend purely through duty
There is distraction, mischief
And never-ending procrastination

A sea of faces swarm the room
With waves of cliques crashing through
Around this vastly crowded place
My eyes are drawn to one single thing
Not that of noise or familiarity
But to *you

For Idil Ibrahim
In memory of Tim Hetherington - 1970 - 2011

I cannot stay and speak my truth while the front line has no voice.
The carpet doesn't share substance with the blood-clumped
dust of Liberia; Red wine doesn't stain nations and it hasn't
changed the world.

I cannot stay and walk these steps while the fragile youth stand.
Our Sunday morning route doesn't cover landscapes of wounds
and bodies; Central Park has never felt a thousand welted
feet march for death.

I cannot stay and see your face while molten plastic scars her world.
Your delicate eyes have never seen the darkness of a child's grief;
Our democracy cannot fathom the searing, slow drip after a family
massacred.

I cannot stay and feel worthy of your love while injustice goes unseen.
My lens has immortalised what we held dear, but is yet to capture
the human condition; I spoke to you like I spoke to them;
Through decades of mortar fire I spoke to them.

she silences herself now
so that one day she may be heard
she chooses to study now
so that one day she may succeed
she chooses to stay home now
so that one day she may go out
she chooses to shy away now
so that one day she may be social
she chooses to not think about love now
so that one day she may find it
she chooses to put away her ambitions now
so that one day she may achieve them

everyday she chooses to put aside her wants and her needs
in the hopes of a brighter future and better life ahead
everyday she dies a little
in the hopes of being able to truly live one day

but who is to guarantee that that day will come?
who may guarantee her a future at all?
who can guarantee that she will wake up the next morning?
is there any guarantee that she will even live to see the days she has spent her whole life working for?

to live in the moment; or not to live in the moment;
that is the real question

I am really silly though.
I should have been in bed hours ago.
My studies are lacking.
My focus is cracking.
And now, bad grades are beginning to show.

"Who Is Who" is a study
and
Travel towards me
"Who Am I?" is the knowledge
But
Travel towards You
"What, You Want?" is a blessing
O' My Lord!
Bless Me