Nothing

Stubbed my toe, it throbbed for a while.
Seemingly the only thing to bring a tear to my eye.
Superficial pain that dulls in a minute
Colour me weird but I wished I lived in it.
Inside lives a hole that consumes all but produces nothing.
No hurt, no joy, squared styrofoam in a bucket.
Still waters feeling no rain, no creatures life to proclaim.
A desert with no grains.
Still the mind wonders, trying to comprehend
The physiological experience when one feels upset.
In its otherness lies beauty that stays inaccessible.
A lion in a cage, its pride oceans away.
This black abyss all consuming.
Thoughts of feelings pass through me.
Reality in its glory, to be numb. 

28/04/13 RBM

Response to Dean Atta & Carol Ann Duffy

This was an exercise in a class, a response to Dean Atta & Carol Ann Duffy in the form of poetry.

A blade held with rage.
The ignorant can not be saved,
From themselves.
And thus follow suit,
Whilst they try to refute
The truths that they've been taught.
The hatred based off of fear was taught.
And yet as in life, unlearned lessons
Are set to repeat.
A young man, future bound
Lifted off of his feet
His soul now gone.
His essence must flow, cause people Don't learn, how precious life is.
Not one more important than the other
And yet are still to discover the subliminal lies that some are...
Quote, more important based on race
Have the right to displace,
Anyone that proves their agenda wrong.
But still people walk blindly, talk blindly
About individuals as groups, like cattle.
Among the cattle are those that will fight to transpose, the ideology put upon them.
Yet it's not enough, to rebuff a generation of those, with their intended history locked sullen behind closed doors.
Within factions there is dissent, towards
Those who dare to bare their eclectic souls.
Not follow the line, to death or decline.
Enraging all those who stick to the mold.
Dismay at death, none of the good ones are left.
Infighting, outfighting, twisted bible phrases agendas.
Very little has moved forward, but to believe such is to resusc-itate hell fire, that bubbles under surfaces.
To acknowledge the mass hate, in hopes of debate,
Is to be percieved a fool.
For as long as everyone remains in boxes
It shall all be 'cool'.
RBM 28/01/13

Lilah Chapter 4 Excerpt

Lilah Chapter 4 Excerpt

...The city is dark, slowing down and quiet with its usual load bustling nature. Lilah in an attempt to clear her head takes in the cool air that brushes against her as she walks. She watches as people walk by, rush by, talking, listening to music, all engulfed in themselves, their own lives, not taking notice or turning a deliberate blind eye to the evils that surround them all. Evil that announces itself in many ways, through the tiniest of acts that people commit in everyday life opening the door to bigger more seductive evils to grow and make themselves known. To the openly deviant acts people get away with on a daily basis. The little old lady being robbed down the street as people face the floor or change direction, to witnessing a beating and remaining silent. These people who she believed would all proclaim to be good people, good citizens, who would undoubtedly claim they hold no prejudices and yet slay people with their fork tongues when they believe they are out of ear shot of the public and then be the first to point fingers in a crisis. Those who are so concerned with themselves they will lie and place blame on another.

These people she passes along the grey city pavements make her feel sick to her stomach. They would all hang her for saving them from the evils they love to pretend they hate and then proclaim her the devil.

"Weasels." She mutters under her breath.

The street grows quieter the further she walks, corner shops are closing for the night, street lights lay claim to the dark the covers the rest of the street. Cars lining the curb become sparse.  Lilah's walk with frustration has taken her to an area of the city she is unfamiliar with. The road ahead looks bleak, screaming at her not to continue. She hugs her stomach and stares into the darkness before spinning on her heels. Her thoughts have played games with her mood presenting a pounding in her frontal lobe. She has upset herself. All she wanted was to clear her mind, but her mind is now anything but clear. Heading back to the strip of street with shop lights she passes a pathway from which she hears the weakest of squeals, scuffling and deep breathing. It sounds far and yet near. Thumping picks up in her head. She turns to face the lights, stretches out her foot to move in the direction she was heading. Her stomach begins to knot. In her silence she hears the scuffling lessen, the beat of the thumping picks up speed. Anxiety takes hold as her eyes begin to burn. She draws her foot in and turns towards the pathway. There are no lights to mark the path, a gangway between two buildings. The stone is wet from the days earlier abrupt shower, she touches the wall to reassure her steps.

  The pathway curves, the scuffling grows. As she edges her way around the corner, she holds tighter to the wall. Scampering out of the blackness runs a small bulk. A rat. Lilah grabs hold of her mouth as she throws herself back on to the wall. A scream is trying to work its way up her throat.  She squeezes her burning eyes shut, counts backward from twenty.

"A rat..delightful!...You can calm down now, just breathe. " She mutters to herself

Lilah peels herself off the wall to head back to the road.

A scream encapsulates her, making her heart rocket. But the scream was not from her, it came from behind her. In the darkness.  Lilah glues her hand back on to the wet cold stone as she urges herself to walk further into the darkness.

"Shut that pretty little mouth bitch." A gruff voice demands.

Lilah, on her toes creeps around the corner. Two men are there, one standing facing the floor another crouching.  Thin legs are stretched out between the crouching mans.

Lilah eyes burn with acid, her stomach tightens while a swirl of vicious hate attacks her system.

Sobbing leaks out from in front of the crouching man. His accomplice kicks one of the legs sprawled along the stone.

A bundle of fabric lays across from them.

Lilah steps out into view, her hand has left the wall, her shoulders have rolled forward.  The men seemingly do not notice.

"What is this?" The standing man says "come to join little girl?"

The crouching man rises, one hand balled into a fist.

Lilahs gums bleed as they tear allowing for the sheath of teeth to cage over her human nashers, her fingers cry while the claws edge their way out and over her finger nails. She looks at her hands and looks to the men in front of her.

"What the hell is this?" Snickers the now standing man

"Halloween is over sweetheart." The other man retorts.

Lilah slowly walks forward, the men mirror her movement, spreading out as far as the pathway will allow.

They laugh looking at the young woman boldly walking towards them.

She walks up to the man standing in front of the woman on the ground. He grabs at her, drawing her in with both arms. His fists wrapped up in her top.

The other man walks around and stands behind Lilah.

Lilah stares into the man's eyes and relinquishes a smile, revealing the sharp spindly ivory teeth.  Her hands wrap around the fists of the man, before she plunges her claws into his skin, sinking them deeper and deeper. The man screams.

His friend grabs Lilah by the hair and yanks her back tearing out some of his accomplices flesh as he goes.

The man screams again as rage consumes his face. The accomplice wraps an arm around Lilah herding her away from the friend and the woman on the floor, he attempts to choke her. Her hands fly up and pierce into his neck before plying herself free.

The man behind her shouts in pain she turn to see the friend charging at her. She musters up power, enough to launch the charging man in the far curving wall with an earth shattering screech. The impact shakes the surrounding building. Lights fly on from windows above. Lilah turns to face the man cowering behind her.

"Who do you work for?" She says in a sickly sweet voice.

"No, n-n-no." The man stutters before turning to run.

Lilah digs her claws into the building, all teeth bared as she propels herself forward. Catching the man in an instant, she lands on his back, plunging her claws into his ribs forcing the screaming man to the ground.

Before he can move she grabs his head and smashes it into the stone.

Everything is still.

She wipes her blood stained fingers onto the mans coat, teeth still bared. Humorous, all is humorous to her. She kicks the mans legs apart before playing hopscotch with them.

A groan sounds from down the path. Her eyebrows furrow as she goes to inspect this new noise. The woman is there, leant against the wall eyes closed, breathing heavy. Lilah crotches down to inspect her. Her jade eyes show no sorrow for the woman.

"Pathetic" She mumbles before grabbing the woman by the arm and dragging her past the body of her of her attackers to the neck of the pathway. There she leaves her, making her way back into the lit street....

"...Everyone has their darkness! But it is how you choose to deal with that darkness inside that makes you." RBM 27/12/12

End of excerpt.

RBM

Childhood Monsters

Have you even woken from a dream left scared and seeking comfort from a creature long lost?
I have.
I found myself scrambling to awake from a dream that haunted me many years ago
I stand at a door that isnt my door, a house that isn’t my house and yet I feel like im home.
Behind the door lingers a shadow,  a shadow I know but don’t want to believe.
Shaking, heart racing the door is opened to that smirking face and black and pink horns.
Her voice is blood curdling, her eyes insight fear.
She enters as if she belongs here.
The house is dark,  in the room she chooses to sit , a front room...
That’s not mine and yet is.
On a sofa,  deep red.
The horns are hidden, in its place is flowing black hair.
She wants something from me, something I'm not willing to give.
All the fear resides in my throat in my nerves.
She seems bigger than life, with no light to bathe in.
No quilt is thick enough to hide me from the sin that has crept its way in...
To my mind.
The demon more threatening trying to appear human, but no quite succeeding.
In a tower a body lies, I who am me but different, crouches above it.
She walks in, intimidating malicious and happy.
Awake she still marks my mind, looming darkness in my frontal lobe.
Heavy she stalks my thoughts as she did the dark corners of my room by my door.
When i was young, a melancholy being, a harbinger of pain.
Come to bother me once again.
13/12/12

Cafe de Paris London posted review

Now for something a little different. I recently had a very uninspiring experience with one of London's clubs Cafe de Paris. I would love to believe that we as a society has made a lot of progress when it comes to race relations, yet it is abundantly clear we still have a way to go when establishments such as Cafe de Paris feel they can behave in a blatantly discriminatory manner. Please find a review I've posted on a few sights with regards to this situation below.

The club itself is nice, i'd been a few times previously and so decided to go for my birthday and book a table, now there was a little something that bothered me, some of the staff were rude but that can somewhat be ignored. However that wasn't my main issue so I wrote to the Manager Ellis for an explanation...till this day I've had none so I thought I'd share my experience with others.

I sent Ellis the following email: 

Dear Ellis 

I had booked one of the tables on the mezzanine this past Saturday 21/04/12 and had paying guests come to the club. Looking on the website I couldn't help but notice the pictures of the predominantly white crowd in the gallery and nothing else. 

My table was quite literally next to the host from The only way is Essex as well as another table of white customer who might I add also get well represented. 

Firstly I was wondering why so very few pictures were taken of my table in comparison to the surrounding crowd? With that said as there were very few pictures taken of my table I would like to know where they are since the young lady who took the pictures stated they would appear on the website? As not a single one appears on the website. Even on the dance floor you show no diversity, even though I witnessed plenty. I can't help but wonder why that was? As its not an accurate representation of your clientele. 

I would really appreciate a response within the next two weeks. 

Regards 

Rochelle 

Now please understand whilst they had a guest host I'd expect her pictures to be everywhere, but it did concern me however that, they purposefully seem to be hiding the full essence of the crowds the club attracts which is disappointing and in my opinion and doesn't show the club or management in a savoury light. The tables on the mezzanine are not cheap either so I found it quite distasteful that the club was happy enough to take my money but not represent people that look like myself or otherwise (as my group was mixed) in the gallery on the site. Perhaps this is just something to consider when looking for a club to attend.

What is also apparent is that the disregards by the clubs manager regarding the matter, clearly he believes that his clubs undercover racism being brought to his attention is nothing to take notice of as he ignored the email, he also ignored the reminder sent a week after. When will this type of behaviour change? When it's confronted? When it's exposed? Never? As the club is prone to having celebrity guests  I had to wonder had I my group not of been regular citizens would the view on presenting us as clientele be different? Celebrities draw attention after all right? Is it then that maybe my group and other groups not represented in the gallery may shock horror encourage in the clubs view a larger assortment to the establishment? Note the crowd generally has, whenever I've been, been an array of beautiful people and races enjoying themselves together. So is by the gallery only showcasing a certain group trying to discourage other groups from attending in an attempt to adhere to their marginalised idea of being elite? 

I really don't know, but whatever the excuse, it isn't on.

10/05/12

Connected

Have you ever felt disembodied..as if you've lost a sense of yourself? Like your waiting for the real you to come floating back...but it seems to be never coming..lost in a sort of abyss??..I have and it isn't fun..So i guess I felt like writing a little poem about the coming to stages, as we all at some stage manage to dig ourselves out from under these gloomy periods which I imagine happen to most at one time or another.


It is kinda of like stupid o'clock right now so, so please forgive any mistakes made, I'm sure they will be worked out when I'm more lucid. :))


TCx


Connected


More liberated than I've ever been 
Connected more now its a beautiful thing
To self, earthy-er like the ether intended
Better equipped to see full truths
Strengthened by leaving certain ties behind.
Two strand twists one tightly wound the other slack
Billowing are the strands of realisation.
Moving forward is its own prestigious reward
Gone is the sinking quilt of despair, desperation, solitude
The drowning in fortress in an endless ocean
Surfaced is the belief that progress is made
Healthier a transition, a period, while mute toxins do fade.
Malachites reflextion has karma unfold
Days to come blooming, adventures fourfold.

07/05/12
------------------

One and Only

One and only

Hollow is the world with this being amiss
Most important warrior,silent and strong
Wisdom not lost but appreciated more.
Ethereal creature presence still felt.
Genes attempting to do you well.
Guidance and spirit never taught to judge.
Rhythmic beats were your hearts impulse
Disease ate it through, leaving only a shell
Your strength shone though, toughest time,brave faced.
With a smile your heart protected those who saw
A pillar so sweet, always giving never to ignore
Everyone else came first, not many can say the same
Door ,windows and eyes locked floods back searing pain.
Struggle over no one and nothing can replace
A beginning so rich, friend, guardian, protector
My one and only.