communication unzip heads
not the jazz scatter of yesteryear
we are scattering seeds
not planning on weeds
and the windborn random answers
those dandelion and mapleboat dancers
pirouetting through the still air
we are the stood up fully aware
prophets of the moment denoted now

yesterday on the sinking ship
i thought i spied my moby dick
but my obsession is no white whale
or a white elephant at the jumble sale
or a fucked up case, an epic fail
all my shit works on a different scale
banal and anal and pain all apply
an urge to deny and comply to reply
i am driven by something buried below
those unenlightened will never know

i am often in the employ of a demon circuit
in this push button world people work it
but i can unhook myself and find freedom
because the lit torch in the dark means i see them
we come here to watch the growing garden
write our name forever, let the cement harden
i can riff to infinity with a poet's heart
skip, trip and rip it with spoken art
i can take your every sentence apart
make you wonder why you thought to start
but in trying to communicate
i am moving from my resting state
and pushing to be forever awake
and that means to build and not to break
there is too much at stake
and there are things i wish you to take
away from your dealings with me
i wish you to see, to be free, and to have as many questions as me

we have different subjects that we can talk about
and ones we step over like they're dogshit
everyone can sniff them out - you turn your noses up
against the perceived shift of parallel lines
towards something less honest

we used to keep notebooks
our shorthand oblivion of thoughts
cramped into a space of observation
and we shared with those
who would pause for a second to listen

but now we are sat here with no audience
except the shadow boxer painting the wall
and the echoplex of yes men
resounding back at you
quotation mark clipped; cliche dipped

i might kneel next to a gloryhole
and whisper into another's stall
or strike a conversation up on a bus
but in the library i am quiet
in other place i consider being considerate

i don't want to be a t-shirt slogan
i am not a button badge to be pushed
i am not a tourist guide neon sign
i am a desire line pushing in
threaded through weeds in an overgrown lot

okay so, having just read a poem on here for the first time in a while i have conceived of an idea to write a book of poetry which, before it is published it shall be posted exclusively here. the book is to be called maya's pace and this is the first piece:

 Maya's pace

to no avail pushing through the veil
and the obvious resistance suggests no reward
did we smoke ourselves into this?
building walls from the insubstantial
letting thin shells harden to carapace
we are the chitinous emissaries of our own infestation
our cockroach whispers on backporch mornings
that say you have been surrendered to ancestral ghosts
that dance down through helical patterns
that intertwine and wrap
two snakes that ourobouros spawned
that swim the same stream
devour the same dream
and twist through the same flesh
we believe in all these binding principles
that ever time he sins he falls
and has to be saved by an appointed saviour
but we're not lying in the grave here
and this symbolic death into belief in others only
leave the interior monologue fractured and lonely
like  tape recorder playing to an empty room
it may as well be tomb
rolling back the stone like a dice
staring into its face seeing reflections
and we see the sun and we say this was never a jail
this was just a resting place

I've been the victim of racism before - my white ex-boss and one of my co-workers called me a Paki lover because they found out I'd kissed a black person before and had no problem with doing so again in the future. I got told by an Irish guy that as an English guy I had nothing to say that was of relevance to anyone because I occupied a position that made me synonymous with every single oppressor there was or ever had been. I pointed out to both of them where they were wrong and judged each of them in that moment on a case by case basis - meaning I judged the person and not the race. It was a person speaking to me, not a race.

When I come to a situation I would like to say that I do not bring my race with me but when you are facing someone who is racist it is obvious that you cannot avoid carrying your skin colour with you. The term reverse racism, by the way, is absolute bullshit - ignorance is ignorance no matter how you colour it (pun intended).

So why am I writing this? Well, experiences in the past week have given me reason to think about the subject. We had problems with a tenant, in that they weren't paying their rent, and I was reluctantly forced to step in and deal with the problem - to broker a peace deal between him and my wife, who manages the leases normally. Their exchange had got heated and out of control and had become threatening. I defused everything and after having to repeat myself a few times I felt that the situation was handled and everything was resolved.

The next day my son blew up over something that happened in the kitchen while he was cooking. I walk into a conversation where said problem tenant is using this event as an excuse to bad-mouth my wife. I dealt with the initial problem - finding out about the blow up and dealing with those involved in that. Then I drew aside the tenant and attempted to discuss with him how it wasn't acceptable for him to be talking about my family in the way he was, especially in reference to the matter the previous today which was in the past and had no bearing on today's events.

On hearing the discussion, which could not be kept private because the tenant insisted on having it in the corridor, tenant number two came and sat down next to the two of us. This changed the situation and it was kind of odd to experience the shift from something being on a one-to-one basis to it suddenly being about something else entirely, namely about the colours of our skin. Tenant number three joins the fray and if your viewing this in terms of race, which I refused to do, you might see it as an evening up of the sides. I didn't allow tenant number three to interject at all because that would have allowed tenant number two access to the conversation as well and this was between me and tenant number one.

I later get this explained to me as being representative of the attitude that gets the n-bomb thrown at people. I explained that in no situation am I going to be throwing that around. Ignorance begets ignorance - a person of one colour acting a certain way doesn't give a person of another colour carte blanche to use a racial slur against them; that represents nothing but a perpetuation of the problem.

So the n-word, what use are discussions of it? Part of me thinks that they are a diversion and deflect us from tackling the important thing - the ignorant attitudes people have. But then I think how can you tackle the thinking if you don't address the language? Making words taboo isn't the route to go, but keeping them in use doesn't seem to work either. Is it a useful word? A useful tool? No, I don't think it is. Has it been reclaimed by people who want to use a hate word in a way that empowers them? To a degree. But you have people using it in the old way and the new way - differentiated by how the word is pronounced at the end; it's a distinction that is still too subtle and the usage is still determined primarily along racial lines.

We share our cultures more than ever - to say something is black culture and something is white culture can seem almost redundant. White kids grow up listening to hip-hop; hip-hop artists knowingly sell to them, white kids make hip-hop. Blues followed a similar path, as did jazz. You can buy into ideas of Rastafari, certain Afrocentric cultures; you can listen to things like ska, reggae, hip-hop, but you'll still be white. Is it important? The musicians, the proponents and proselytizers of these beliefs are educated individuals working to raise the consciousness of everyone (ok some of them maybe aren't) so is it important to them who is listening to them? I would say they would be open to someone open-minded listening to them.

I've had the word cracker thrown at me recently. Had to sit there and listen to someone laying out scenarios which were supposed to scare me by allowing me to infer what might happen to me were I to step out of line. Had to correct the misperception that instead of having spoken with my wife and come to a decision regarding something I have somehow put her in her place. How do you deal with it? You attack it for what is - ignorance, without resorting to displays of ignorance yourself.

I don't need to resort to physicality to get my point across. I don't need racial slurs as a shorthand for saying that I believe someone is behaving ignorantly, and perhaps if more people find a way to communicate without resorting to these tools things will improve.

Sure, be proud of your heritage, wear it well, but know it, serve it well, but don't expect me to see you as a spokesperson for all your ancestors. I'm not a spokesperson for evry white man out there - I speak only for myself; it is the only thing I have the authority to do, and I would not presume to do anything more.

buy here

finished this today: This project was conceived, written and edited within a 24 hour period. It describes an emotional and physical journey from the first instances of life, through death, and onwards. A unique and lyrical journey.

always the villains of the piece, aren't they? ever read a nice story about one, or watch a nice film about them?

when kids have problems with the parental units all they have to do is prefix it with the word step and everyone nods like that explains it all away.

are you an actual father? do you have any actual kids?

these are the kind of questions that seek to invalidate your claims on being a parent and to any experience like that of a parent.

so, is becoming a step parent an easy choice? it's as easy as falling in love.

i became aware of the idea from an early age because my dad's dad, my grandad, was his step-dad. the notion that this was somehow a weaker kind of connection was only pushed at us when things like inheritance came into people's minds - like i ever cared about money i didn't have when weighing it against someone who had been my grandfather my whole life.

when my grandfather died of cancer i had been visiting him every day for three months. that stupid prefix really didn't mean anything to me, but the man in the hospital bed meant everything.

so i have been a father (step-father if you must) for over two years now. i've been through the moments of being told, you're not my dad - something i never ever claimed. i've been to school events, i home schooled one of our boys for a year. recently it was father's day and i got wished happy father's day three times by each of my sons.

i really wish there was some way to remove the stigma from the idea of being a step-parent. it doesn't make you automatically bad at parenting - you learn in the same way all parents do. a bad step-parent is just a bad parent. a good step-parent is a good parent.

with the way families are configured nowadays, and i barely know a single person who doesn't have some unconventional twist on the traditional nuclear family, how can people keep perpetuating these stupid ideas?

you make a choice to be with your partner, you make a choice to accept their kids. in the same way as you fall in love with your partner you fall in love with the kids - at least this is my truth.

so in answer to the questions: am i an actual father? do i have any actual kids? i feel i can answer yes on both counts.

do you ever think about it? your own i mean? do you understand where the dirt gathers in the seams of your psyche? do you stand by everything you ever said and if not then why not?
life tests the stress bearing abilities of our selves on a daily basis, and how we deal with that gives some measure of the kind of person we are. what we are willing to stand by and let happen and that which we are willing to stand up and fight for.
some people stand by nothing, fight for nothing, use everything and wonder why their lives are meaningless. i would not say that my opinion on anything is rigid, because that rigidity is death to the thinking mind, but i do believe in things. anyone who has been reading me for long enough will understand i think that i am a fairly moral person. I like to think that it is obvious that i would go out of my way to avoid hurting someone. in fact i think from aall the projects i am involved in should be apparent that i am intent on helping people.
you find yourself in a position where someone questions your integrity and makes false claims about what sort of person you are and it makes you think. you hope that the people who know you well, know you well enough not to believe poisonous untruths. you hope that for those who may be just discovering you as a friend will see the evidence in the way other people act around you and to the rumour.
i am pretty level headed so when these things surface i don't go off the deep end and openly attack someone; seeking instead to defend myself and prevent further harm to my reputation. i believe my reputation is fairly secure and robust. it is disappointing when things such as this happen, but they must be borne.

Do you ever just look at someone and think there's another person? Or do you look at them and find yourself unable to stop the labelling process? This is a black man, this is a white woman, this person looks gay, this person looks nerdy?
Do you ever just look in the mirror and see yourself? All the people you have ever known coalesce into a single universal figure who works like an optician, swapping those lenses in and out and changing the way you see the world and whatever you are looking at.
Why does it matter what labels a person needs affixed to them? Does it matter so much to you that this is so? Can your world not attain stability unless you can do this?
We want to be free? No, we want a set of rules - ones to follow that make it easy. Why? Because life should be easy. How would it be easy if we didn't have these guidelines? How would walking around and just "being" regardless of who were around or where we were be any easier than walking around in a safe known environment? Seems easy maybe to say that assumptions are stumbling blocks - cross out assumptions and write instincts and see if that changes how you think about them. Instincts are useful, aren't they? Stop you getting hurt - cross out instincts and write street smarts and you know they'll help you out in certain places.
Some people don't have these inbuilt instincts - they possess no blackdar, gaydar; they have not learned the language or rules that help them navigate certain places. These rules help them.
So these people look at their set of rules and they can say - this is a black man, this is a gay man, etc, etc. Where does the problem come in? It's when identifiers and things that are really only ideas that rest on the surface of a person are used to make judgments about ideas concerning what resides on the inside of a person.
Identifying gay, black, white, male, female speaks nothing of good or bad, but people get that muddled up. It starts in the bathroom mirror. You build your universe around yourself. What people say to you, how they  judge the things you know yourself to be - that affects how you view these things. You define yourself in alliance or opposition with these views. What's good enough for judging you is good enough for judging others, right? Of course - has to be, doesn't it? Because we like to consider ourselves good judges.
I am trying to look in the mirror more carefully - it will make me look into the world more carefully.

hit me up with some information - where are you and what are you doing?