This man stood in the dark* *(He stood in the light)
This man had no idea what to do with the light (He had made it through the night)
For so much time had gone by since dusk (He was free... a seed, ready to grow, that has shed its outer husk)
He had spent one too many hours in ‘fright’ (Not to be confused with being ‘about to flee’… he was ‘about to soar’, ready to take flight)
Too much time had gone by since he’d gotten lost in the night (And it all came naturally, everything just sort of… felt right)
He’d taken the same wrong path he swore he would avoid (He’d avoided a path that he knew so well, one that was… of all serenity, devoid)
That same mistake over and over again, he was frustrated… annoyed (Some would call it a ‘near miss’, he calls it a ‘near crash’… because he nearly crashed and missed, he was overjoyed)

**The previous man… a broken record, a repetitive mistake, an irritating stutter
Just for the record, the previous emotional clutter… seems much less appealing than the organized latter
And the obvious better option for me... for you
Is to work extra hard at being guy number two.

Anything is possible...
Even the impossible
Note that I said ‘the impossible’
And not ‘the seemingly impossible’...
This reality to me has always seemed plausible
Even when I was cold and hard-hearted, when inside my chest there was an icicle
This kind of faith kept me balanced
Like riding a bicycle
Through sanity and mental imbalance
Through all those self-deceptive lies we call…
‘Necessary evils’
When separating the good grain from the bad, do we ever make an exception and say to ourselves… “It isn't fit for consumption, but I’ll keep this grain… for it has but one necessary weevil…”?
If it isn't good for me, it simply isn't good
And I have to distance myself from it
And it is possible for I say it is
It may have seemed impossible previously
For that was how I saw it as
Not anymore
I will ease over this hurdle
And look forward to many more
Yes, look forward to them
For there are no limits anymore.

I banged the door against my ‘little’
And felt the pain through to my index…
Finger
I felt the pain surge through, felt it throb… felt it linger
Felt it ache
Felt my whole body quake, way past my pain threshold
**** this finger

I stubbed my little…
Toe
Against the leg of my coffee table, you know the one… that well varnished little devil
That stands just before the door
It felt like liquid fire
I looked down at my toe and asked it, “You mean to tell me that you didn’t bleed?... you LIAR!”
And then turned to the table and whispered, “You little *****.”

I don’t know how it happened, but...
You made me sob my heart out paper-cut
It isn't nice how you just up and slice
I’m a manly man, I declare… I boast
You can tell by my manly strut
But really, that ain’t cool… play nice, for pain is my least favourite vice
It’s the little cuts that hurt the most.

I do not usually indulge in "red"
Mostly white or crystal clear
More than a sip, something like a big bite I take... yes, I miss my beer
But this is like... a taste of paradise
This... I like
As suggested by hammered eyes
It's seductive... like a mirage deep in the desert
It's like a fair step on a steep hillside, pleasant
Those that indulge in it together, are birds of a feather
It's like a sly friend, "there for you" no matter the weather
Then smacks you upside your head the following morning
It's like a trumpet in your head, and your voice of reason following... moaning
"oooh...why didn't you stop when you realized morning was dawning?"
Now a headache is spawning
Your hung over, your eye
Just as red
As what it is I'm drnking... It's wine.

It’s scary I tell you, when I turn around and look…
Back
To the days when I just couldn’t wait to read that book
I’d plan my day so that I'd have several hours of page-turning time… with no interruptions in between
Nowadays I find myself turning fewer pages, but lazily clicking away as I read off a computer screen
I’m afraid I will lose the reading culture I’d built... for this is not the same
I go through a few pages, then switch to an online pool game
It’s a habit I’m beginning to abhor
Something I never would have dared to do before
I would read the crap out of a book in a day… or two at most, before
Always hungry for a story, like a ****** with a craving looking to score
I was a book worm… now I just don’t know
What I am anymore
I grab a good paperback and dive into the story
An hour later my eyes feel heavy, I begin to feel a little weary
The Sandman’s close by and I am beginning to worry
‘Will I even get to finish this chapter?’
I begin to rush through the page in a hurry
But by now I’m reading shallow… and the story is so deep
Still, I need to know what happens to the protagonist next… before I fall into this deep sleep
I can feel it lurking around the corner
**** Sandman!...
Around the corner
Then I turn to my machine… that wretched thing
And see the window I left open on the screen
And decide to squeeze in…
A short story I had been reading earlier, before I ‘shut eye’
Knowing full well that if I force myself past chapter four my brain surely shall die
But, forty five minutes later… well, what do you know? The computer has done it again…
It has kept me awake and reading, way past chapter ten.

I think poets are aliens… from another planet
I mean, we must be
You have to be off your rocker to get it, to understand it…
I mean, is it just me…
That sees it?
The way we took grammar, complicated as they made it...
And blew the rules to the wind, we decided to ‘breeze’ it
We made up our own… and as a sensible man...
I can say, they don’t even need to make sense
Because they are what they are… poetic and intense
I really think we are not human though… I'm being serious about this
We go around seeing through a third eye
I know because I am about this
And we are crazy I tell you
We see the art in everything
We probably came up with the phrase ‘an about kiss’…
Or an 'almost kiss'… whatever
‘It’s either a kiss or it’s not, it’s as simple as that’...
The rest of society thinks… oh, but the poet would have none of that
We are weird I tell you
Us artistic types
We open our minds to anything and everything
We even befriend the mystic types
We would take it there… or allow our curiosity to take our minds anywhere
We would experiment to a point where we’re tripping out
We would… and you know it, just as long as it’s something to write about
This creativity thing is like a super power… **** it!
I rest my case… arrest me and take me back to my mother planet.

I saw these neighbourhoods
I grew up in these neighbourhoods
I saw these streets
I grew up in these streets
I lived passed them… sort of
I didn't end up in jail, a ******… or deceased
Still, whenever I walk through them today... I feel at home
A sense of belonging
A nostalgic longing…
To remain here forever
But realize that forever would be too long
I would be fed up by month number five
Getting high every day… getting into fist fights
That was no way to live a life
It was just about getting through the day…
Survive
Exist
Eat
Be alive
These things are very different from living
Because the devil that gives you certain heights… compliments them with issues
And he just keeps on giving
I see the junkies, a hardened lot
Taking their ‘cut’ from the public service vehicles plying their route
And woe be unto the tout that refuses to pay
For these scavengers get vicious, they scratch, punch… and loot
I call them scavengers because that’s what they seem like… true
But as I look into the crowd, their ‘gang’, I realize that I know one of them… actually two
They cross over to me; we bump fists… a way of greeting
We’re still ‘boys’, but if I were to describe them now as ‘wayward’?... Fitting
I cannot do that though
We may have taken different paths in life, but there was a time when we hang together
A time when we were young, running around these streets and I called this place home
Now, what sort of man would I be if I just upped and forgot where I came from?

A walk through thirsty land
Breathe... step... breathe... step
Dunes of towerring, rusty sand
With each step, breathe... step
No rules, no lanes... no need to 'keep left'
Or walk in any particular direction... but that which you choose
Too hot by day to play, by night... too cold to snooze
It is beautiful, in an evil way
Impressive, but can ****
It giveth less than it taketh away
That bone piercing, nightly chill
It's getting closer, time grinds teasingly on
The dunes seem to get taller, teasing the sun
Whose heat, direct from sky to forehead
Squeezes my pores...
Breathe... step... breathe... breathe... step
And robs my body of its last bead of sweat
Breathe... breathe... breathe... step
Attempt to swallow saliva... feel like I'm gurgling on glass
Breathe... stop
No tree... open land... sea of sand... parched
Breathe
Try to reassure myself, in a raspy monotone
Wish for one thing right now, not water... chlorofoam
So I can pass on, and not feel it
The desert's friends are up and about in the dark, cheering "**** it! **** it!"
I try to ill will it... try to hold on
But this warrior of nature's choke hold, grip... proves too strong
To fight
So... tonight
I decide "It's over, I'm gone"
I can hear the afterlife call
Out to me
Pick myself up... Breathe... step... stumble... fall.

***!
Way to fleece…
A taxpayer
They’ve got us singing the blues
And we’re not down for all that jazz*… leave that to the Sax player
We remain mind boggled by these selfish ‘leaders’
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… ‘Dude! Way to bleed us!’
We’re already scraping the floor for crumbs… are they trying to run our finances into the ground?
“You work for us you pompous ******-bags, it’s not the other way around...”
Midnight meetings in secretive silence
We preferred it when their nonsense made a sound
We’re ashamed and infuriated
But what makes it worse is that we’re not surprised
It’s like they strive to be truly hated… and yes, they've  gotten themselves despised
More and more by the day
As each day goes by
We would throw them all out if we could
And our actions would be understood
Unfortunately we can’t do this for they are skilled at defiance
Masters of political science
And at it they are that good
Liars
Cheats
The campaigning politician...
Seducing us with deceit when he comes out on the street
To make his energetic speech
And then...
The elected Member of Parliament...
Only campaigns for his financial gain
Once he’s assured that for a whole term his position is permanent
That’s where they've slipped up, and I thought they were a smart lot
Schemious at least
Such a wrong move in an election year
Do they not fear… getting dropped by the voter?
Two hundred and twenty four MP’s… dead weight in deep water
And can’t swim
Should they have asked for my advice prior, I would have told them to simply cease and desist
“Do not dive in…”.

My brother and I fought
And I wasn’t at wrong
Or so I thought
Years ago this happened
And it’s been awkward for too long
It may not seem such a big deal
But it was resentment I’d feel
Whenever we attempted to get along
It wasn’t too long ago though
I was like eighteen or so
When…
We had a fist fight as grown men
I realize now that I always thought
He was selfish, and that was why we always fought
But the truth is… I’ve been selfish too
Thinking I was holier than thou
I want my brother back
I want my brother back right now
I’ve been okay, I’ve been doing good
On a solo mission, but I misunderstood...
The meaning of life
It’s not about strife
After growing up together, we grew apart… how?
I want my brother back
I want my brother back right now
We both know he was wrong
To do what he did
But that was years ago
By now, both of us should have let it go
The funny thing is
He still has my back
He is always there when I need him
I used to think it was guilt
Now I realize it has more to do with the relationship we’d built
Growing up side by side
The days when for him I was always ready to ride
To stand up against anyone that tried… to hurt him
He was my brother, flesh and blood
My brother, my blood
As I write this I've grown a little now
So, I have to get my brother back
I have to get him back right now.

I have seen ‘life’… and ‘life’ has become me
I have seen death, well… close enough
And these experiences too have become me
A part of me
A part of who I am
A part of who I used to be
The past and the future collide… at the present
I have had times when I was scared
I have had times at which I stood up to the challenge when I was dared
I am not perfect… I’m just a man
A man destined and expected to always be able to take a stand
Even when he’s down, to stand tall… proud peasant
You need to understand…
Every other man’s shoes are difficult to walk a mile in
So respect my journey as I overcome all these obstacles and head for the ‘Promised Land’
With questions in my mind like…
If I am not ‘holy’…
Then what am I… ‘sin’?
Questions unanswered… questions asked
Responsibilities not asked for… responsibilities tasked
Some decisions are a risk… such a risk they are
But that is why the one that retained the Status quo… and he that took that risk
Today, are not at par.

I think of an end, and it will appear
I think there is no end… and it’s the beginning of my life each and every year
I choose where I am, by having chosen where I've been
A number of wise decisions… with a lot of nonsense in between
Epiphanies hit me and I see life in a split screen
Shared blunts with street urchins, with no idea where the spliff’s been
Arrested a couple of times… in holding cells I have been
Series of unfortunate events unfolding… in short spells?
I was reckless and immature… I was seventeen
But I stayed on, believed in the blessing…
From above and realized that between God and Satan… one of them must have been testing…
Me
My resilience, my ability to learn from experience…
My brilliance?
I yearned to play in the big leagues with the main players
I could have sworn that I could see the future like Soothsayers
I was going beat them
Despite being riddled with inexperience
I tried once… tried twice, made a step
Tried the third time, another step
The fourth, a leap
And I’m still at it, hoping to reap…
From this artistic thing
These poems, this music… when I rap, when I sing
This is the breath of life to me… it’s more than just ‘a thing’.

And then I saw her
And she was beautiful
Stunning
Smiling
Graceful
And all I kept telling myself was ‘Nigel, do be cool…’
But it was too much and left me a little bit awkward
Like the new kid in school
She spoke with such ease… like she had no idea how amazing she was
I highly suspect that this was because
She knew
And was just basking in the moment
And there I was, calm and collected… on the outside
Mushy and melted… on the inside
I find myself still thinking about her a day later
How can someone be so enchanting?
If she has a man… I hate him
And I hate her
The previous line is not possible though
Her whole aura catches you off guard like a sucker punch
An unexpected blow
I saw her…
And she was beautiful
And as I type this a day later
There is no doubt in my mind about the fact that I want to date her
And I will.