I am so sorry but my hair levels are actually too saucy right now for me to not mention my trim. I won’t gas it to much, but when you see me you’ll know innit.
If you ask me about my favourite poet/s then this guy is always going to be top 3 selected. He’s on the Dazed 100 list so go vote for him. I remember seeing this guy at a slam way back when I first started out, he won and completely blew me away etching metaphors and imagery directly onto my mind like a canvas. He’s been doing so ever since. I hold him as an inspiration, Kendrick, Wretch, Chance, I hold him in that level of artistic esteem. (I fully contemplated growing my hair when I realised my fav artist were all flexing like Samson, but a close friend shut me down 😥 poor me). Also he’s a bad boy photographer and took all the spicy photos in this years BYP anthology which you ought to have peaked at by now if you’ve been following this blog. He’s generally just a cool dude, always doing him. His poem Coconut Oil is at the bottom (embedded cos I’m now a badman).
This poem is untitled not because I am trying to be artsy but because I am trying not to give things I like cheap meaningless titles. So instead of calling this Bed or Shadows because it’s easy I’m gonna leave it untitled until the appropriate title manifests.
You’re scrawled over the bed like a crime scene.
Loneliness outlined in sheets of chalk.
Pillows mourn, hugging to forget the emptiness of night.
He leaves his curtain cracked.
He hopes sunlight will banish you in the morning.
You laugh at the thought of shadows fearing day.