My latest piece – A Poet’s Soul

It’s been a little while since I posted something but I recently wrote a poem for a Wordjar E-Book titled ‘A Poets Soul’.
Please make sure you check it out and you can download for free too:

Tags: Poetry

VOTE FOR KENKODIE AS MTVs BEST UNSIGNED 2012 – LOVE ALL THE SUPPORT!

Please vote for the artist I manage, Kenkodie. He has been selected in the second stage of MTV’s Best Unsigned 2012 and we need your support!

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The Earths Disguise

Gone are the green wisps

Sprouting through the soil

That God created to look so Royal

Now dead, under the bricks they lay

So the winds don’t hear the songs they play

Mother Nature’s instruments

Her Earth has been stripped of its innocence

Trees, chopped in their prime

To reveal the wrinkles of their spine

A landscape built up

With minds too distracted

Our serenity lost

And we don’t know how to grasp it

A world so crammed

But full of empty souls

Eternally lost behind the world that we’re shown

Dull is the ground,

Armoured by concrete

So the lungs of the earth

Fight for breath in sufferance

The pollution of mankind

That has shadowed our home

Physically and internally

Corruption demanding control

And we’re slaves to the greed

That hungers the earth

Through the ignorance were fed

From our day of birth

By Kiri Gray ©

He loves me, he loves me not

A withering flower, wrinkled past the prime of beauty

Petals sagged in sadness

He loves me, he loves me not

Thirsting for a drop of love to revive a blooming smile

Awake but lifeless, a curving stem of denial

Perfumed skin weakens daily

The nutrients of your soil are few

He loves me not, he loves me

The kiss of your rain washes the dew of tears

And is all this flower needs from the world to live

 

By Kiri Gray © 

Words

(Meant as a spoken word piece)

Words are my art,
My heart is my poem
Words are what make me vulnerable
Cos my words are so open
Words are my lifeline,
They tell my story
They can validate my actions,
Articulate my pain, my glory!
They came from my heart,
When I told you three
They pierced through mine,
When yours cut too deep
They’ve fed my ego,
They’ve bruised my spirit,
But my soul restored,
Cos of the words within this (mind)
Words of anger,
They’ve spat in my face
Words from friends have kept me sane
Words that are whispered can turn Chinese,
And twist a knife in the back
When they’re misconceived
Words are so beautiful,
They can speak the truth
But words can lie and manipulate you
Words can teach,
Or mislead you astray
Your actions can contradict your words,
‘You didn’t mean what you said!’
Words can have intention,
Or they can honestly plead
‘Forgive me please, I didn’t mean it!’
Words are all talk, show me your actions
But I admit, I still love to hear them,
When you’re giving me that backstroke
Yeah, you’ve got a way with words,
You know how to play games with words
You can cover up your secrets
Without saying a word
Words can care, or not give a ….
Discriminatory, hatred filled
Passionate, sincere or ambiguous
I’ll say what I want cos words are free apparatus!
They conduct the sweetest music
Speak the realest lyrics
Or sing commercial chorus,
That influences our children
They can sell almost anything,
Even your soul,
When words lead to consequence,
You can lose control
Words can mean everything, nothing;
Structure personality
Some are better left unsaid
Some embody profanity
Hear with not just with your ears,
Listen with your eyes
For words alone can dictate,
To an ignorant state of mind
So take caution with the ones you absorb
The ones your toungue chooses to exercise
Let them come from here (heart)
Cos your words are your own

By Kiri Gray ©

An intro to my life…let me know if it’s worth continuing a book about?

My patchwork decorated heart is a montage of the laughs and butterflies that ignited new loves and the wounds from betrayal and spiteful stabs that it suffered. Sometimes from a whisper that pricked up my ears attention but sometimes from the silence of only watching, can you look from the windows of your mind and see a truth that your ears may choose to ignore.

But more than anything the heavy pin-board of past memories in my chest, boasts its strength to romanticise pain so the honesty of its poem can tell the story of the reason why the love it found, is nothing less than real.

Materialism has never consumed me with its urge. I think it’s because I always felt something almost spiritual inside me which I could never fathom. But as my feelings taught me with the days of my years and the occurrences within them, in our lives and maybe after, we all own something more eternal than material treasures; a soul. And what makes the soul speak is the way we let it guide our heart. And I believe only when the soul is given a voice and allowed to express itself through love, can true happiness be found.

My scattered path of life had many different wrong turns. Wrong in the right kind of way. They shaped me. And they shaped my present. And a saying I will always swear by, despite maybe being a little optimistic or reassuring, is ‘everything happens for a reason’.

Like a billion other Western babies, I was born in a concrete jungle. It’s hard to see past the restricting walls when they are hidden by a web of institutionalised society. The walls my parents reside in were built when my Mother was 18 and my Father 22. They met and fell in love as young idealists do. My Fathers aspirations of a sculptor unwittingly ended when a wage wasn’t frequent and a 9-5 had to do the job.

400 miles of begging motorway confused my parents’ disparity and moved us back and forth to find a settlement that gratified a solution of a family base of our own. A compromise that differed whilst I was growing up but eventually found its place near my Fathers family which were never a key part in my upbringing other than the knife that twisted wretched arguments that tore at the knots of my parents hopeful marriage over the years and frayed the loose ends.

One room collected the very first histories of our new family. My parents and I shared my first year in grey curling wallpapered walls with nothing more than a mattress, a carry cot and a fridge. I don’t think anything can hold more of your life than the bricks of your home.  Looking back, remembering the weathered décor of the old lady who passed away and allowed us to revive the small council house, to the rebuilt structures of a home that raised me, reflects the changes and adversities my 25 years have witnessed.

?

Contained feelings drown in nothingness

Gently swaying in the basement of my soul

No comfort nor unrest, they silently ache

While I skip through life wearing smiles

What will be will be

Everything happens for a reason

A shrug of the shoulder can step around the collisions

That damaged mind and heart

It’s easier to restrict love than to let it be free

Because team love, is rarely played fair by two parts

Beneath hugs and kisses are secrets and scars

Is satisfaction found when blanketed by arms?

Lonely nights or alone nights?

The difference is all in the layers of the mind

But I can’t lie, I can’t fake the same smile love gives me

That’s why an empty smile bears no resemblance

You tell me what you see?

 

By Kiri Gray ©

Distraction

I could lay a thousand hopes on the ground

And lay on their comfort whilst looking at the stars

Lost in the heat of inspiration

Like the sparkle of each, is a gift of imaginations wealth

But like an uneven surface, I’m unsettled in my thoughts

You ruffled the pillow that my head rests upon

When clear as cloudless skies, you disturbed my night sky

And lay next to me in my dream

Like you were supposed to be there

But to tell is a mistake when vision is interfered

Pretending to anchor a heart can damage

When eventuality reveals

But logic and confusion can be misinterpreted

A tickle of faith in the mind to tease

With a sigh and gentle blow, a flame can disappear

And emotion can, for a second, stand still

By Kiri Gray ©

Barriers

A casket confines the soul

So that traces of love can no longer just roam

Singing ice-box where my heart used to be,

But it never ever belonged to me

It had a few owners in the past cos I wore it on my sleeve

But now I washed out the stain that it used to leave

Put it back in its place and cuffed it to my chest

So when an arrow tries to pierce,

It can’t tear through its nest

A dull lullaby still melodies in the booth of my rib cage

Until a voice that speaks the truth allows it to engage

But a trusted word is hard to receive

When the ears have been cut with lies and deceived

A kiss always burns when it melts the heart

And leaves a scar from a flirtatious spark

If the heart behind it is not a whole one

But defines selfish and greedy, it takes from your love

So the shackles on this love are tight with caution

For the next time love thinks it can have its portion

It can lick the taster but can’t satisfy this sweet tooth

Protection from an addiction that should never be pursued

So a hit of the needle that draws blood from my heart

Will only be victorious when another has drowned me in loves art

By Kiri Gray ©

Concrete Jungle

The dirt of the soil that defects your morals,

Comes from the pit of concrete brick

Where ceilings grow higher than 40 floors

And the key is often hidden that unlocks the door

So grey walls evade privacy rather than contain it

Like fish in a bowl with nowhere clean to play in

Festers bad habits and stereotypic manners

Self-fulfilling prophecies stirs hunger to rebel against this ‘democracy’

Like a dog chasing its tail, the distractions fed to prevent, prevail

The axis that on the Earth we spin, catches us in a web of sin

So subliminal forces remand souls like coffins

A cage of confrontation sometimes, bare bravery dwells in

So seemingly courageous actions are derived from gutless cowards

Or innocent souls fuelled by survival tactics 

Slaughtering dreams, manifesting divisions between the masses

Killing through community wars leading to bigger barriers

Tangled in the matrix, the system template

Without a rubber or a pencil to restructure the stencil

But climbing a broken ladder can be done with mental power

Forces higher than witnessed by the eyes measure

Able stamina, which drives thirst for something better

But whilst silence is on our lips unity is just a pretender

By Kiri Gray ©