I use to be hip thought I was the captain of the ship, well equipped.

Until I had one too many *****, one too many nips, I tripped, flipped the script had to abandon ship.

Now ain't that a blip, when you start taking ***** and nips, Once they get a grip it becomes a dictatorship and all you get is gypped.

So take a tip, when you're trying to be hip You'll wind up a drip with your face in the dip.

pulling hair out of parted lips like charming serpents from
        wet reeds
  open. <laying>
hernecktwistsdown

and stains me       
         .
our hands
are

dropped bread_dog-natured
and slow.breath
i am dull hammerhead  to your
nail-edge.
i am smoothed out by time and
b l o w s.
the sea knows my
stone(s).like i know your wrist
though i fray at the end of
your
twine-lined teeth:

thirty years
since Mark gunned you down
thirty years, passed
like a long sleepless night
that ends with taunting morning light
no brilliant sunrise grandly pronouncing
a glorious new dawn of man
although that would have been your plan
with your entreaties to give peace a chance
and imagine, imagine, imagine

now I kneel in this rain gray park
like a reject from some holy ark
a pilgrim in doleful disappointed pose
after seeing what your earthly brothers chose
was not to imagine a world of peace and love
but to wear reality like a cast iron glove
making mockery of your martyred chants
proceeding like a billion scurrying ants
deaf to your childlike pleas

across the soaked soil where your ashes lay
yesterday and today…and tomorrow
I feel the soggy sorrow
that you would have felt
if you could still see
all the rage of humanity

(written 7 years ago on the 30th anniversary of the ****** of John Lennon)

I was forgetting you.

But no, you wouldn't let me do that this time either.

Who would you be if I forgot about your existence?

No one. You're turning desperate.

Showing up to see if you can still play me.

The answer is No.

Parasites are meant to go extinct.

My home is Brittania
Sarcastic comedy
Eating crumpets and biscuits
Dunking them in the Earl Grey tea

Home is in Pakistan
Across the lush rural fields
Where the day breaks
To a rooster crowing

My home is in Turkey
Near the turquoise sea
In the cobbled old town
Full of culture and history

Home is in America
In land and in liberty
Where everything goes
The good, the bad and the ugly

My home is in Morocco
In the colourful bazaars
The dessert land
A stark divide between wealth and poverty

Home is in Yemen, Iraq and Syria
In the hearts torn by policy
Where they speak the language of tears
And know the taste of hunger

My home is in India
In the classic Bollywood films
The spicy curries
The bright embroidered outfits

My home is in Arabia
In the pilgrimage of unity
The mosque of my prophet
The past, the present and future

My home is the world
The land is one
Humans we are divided
Borders? My God created none