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Art rooms and caked palettes,
wearing hoodies while it's hot.
Projects creative and
projects complete.

Library books, pen and paper,
scholarships for the taking.
Hard work, struggles and silence.

I am made into myself,
thank you for that.

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Copy of poem by Lee Allane from November reading.
A version performed with musicians can be found on the website www.Odessey.org.uk if anyone's interested

GAGARIN SANG A HYMN IN SPACE - April 12 th 1961

Walking with infinity

Earth spinning at my feet

Life a candle in the sun

Time an unconvicted thief

I know that God is out there somewhere

Does he even see me

Does he know my name

Do I serve his purpose

Or just play the human game

Silence Silence Silence

Nothing even breathes

Darkness is unending

But the weaver she still weaves

I know that my country is watching

The world holds its breath

Some men crave my story

Some men seek my death

Glory Glory Glory

Wrap me in your flag

Vodka kisses in the morning

A bear inside a rag

I know that someone is waiting in the vastness

How can I know his plan

God's finger on my shoulder

The end is the beginning

How small it seems a man

Mercy Mercy Mercy

Hide in endless night

Truth can wait until tomorrow

Save me from the light

So wash my cheeks with women

Pour gold into my mouth

Roubles for a smiling face

Mind reeling from the truth.

Starlight Starlight Starlight

freckles on the sky

Do I hear God weeping

Did man make him cry

Walking with infinity

Earth spinning at my feet

Life a candle in the sun

Time an unconvicted thief .

Lee Allane

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Copy of Poem by Lee Allane from Novmber reading

MEETING WITH THE GRAND GRAMMARIAN

Well - there I was,

sitting in this room smoking literacy,

when this man walks in,

this tight-dressed man

with a finger in each ear.

From a room

papered in past participles

he had come to sentence me,

to convey the statement

that my life was to be abbreviated.

By the third comma

of the second semi-colon

of the first full stop,

my errant punctuation

was to be erased.

And then,

without taking his fingers from his ears,

he left.

Leaving me to sit and smoke literacy,

and wonder where this

Grand Grammarian

had sold

his question marks?

Lee Allane

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'PJ Samuels: Black She' on Busy Being Black

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'PJ Samuels: Black She' on Busy Being Black

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PJ Samuels is a poet, educator and LGBTQ human rights activist whose work interrogates issues of race, gender, patriarchy, identity and belonging. I first encountered her searing, moving and beautiful poetry in the Sista! Anthology, a collection of essays and poetry from women-loving-women of African and Caribbean descent. She is an emotional and intellectual force. Today, we discuss her relationship to God and with Christianity and the way both religion and Blackness have historically been weaponised against Black people. She elaborates on her refusal to make her life and her Blackness performative, and how she does this through a tenacious yet gentle pursuit of joy. She takes us back to her origins in rural Jamaica, how her experience as a refugee made her reevaluate all of her relationships, how she remembers to engage her wonder and her curiosity, and her thoughts on roots, freedom and love.This conversation is big and it is beautiful. There are some long pauses throughout this conversation because PJ literally rendered me speechless with her thoughts, passion, intellect, and her absolute commitment to Black women.
https://pjsamuels.wordpress.com/
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@_busybeingblack is the podcast exploring how we live in the fullness of our queer Black lives. If you like what you hear, please take a moment to rate, review and subscribe; doing so lets others like us hear the voices amplified here. #busybeingblack
Thank you to our partners, UK Black Pride and BlackOut UK.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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‎Busy Being Black: PJ Samuels: Black She on Apple Podcasts

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‎PJ Samuels is a poet, educator and LGBTQ human rights activist whose work interrogates issues of race, gender, patriarchy, identity and belonging. I first encountered her searing, moving and beautiful poetry in the Sista! Anthology, a collection of essays and poetry from women-loving-women of Africa...

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Freewrite on Joy  5mins

Think of a game/toy you enjoyed as a child. Focus on the ways you accessed joy though this game/toy. Enter this memory holding the joy it gave you in a very present way. Allow yourself play and frivolity. Enter the joyful experience with exuberance and explore it through your senses.

This suggestion is an invitation. Trust yourself and allow your intuition to lead you rather than take this as instructive. Write joyfully...

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content warning: mention of physical and sexual violence

i come from comfort

i come from sparrow in the shelter of the shark

i come from my own creation

i come from the dawn chorus in the cherry tree outside the window

i come from the sound of my mother flushing the old toilet

i come from rain thick over the garden, patterning the pond

i come from a big man dangling a tiny woman by her throat

i come from hushed conversations the other side of the stairs door when i was supposed to be sleeping

i come from shrinking walls and enclosed spaces

i come from excavated breath in classics classes

i come from baptist upbringing, and later forgiveness

i come from zydeco kitchen dances on dark december nights

i come from Norma Waterson and Martin Carthy

i come from old miner and fisher songs

i come from muscled calves and freckled smiles

i come from whole sentences and open questions

i come from peaceful dreaming, abundant creation

i come from buttered boiled potato sandwiches and ketchup with peas

i come from chestnut soup on boxing day and apple chutney with jacket potatoes from the rayburn

i come from welcome release pressed against a soft surface

i come from uninvited touch and too-soon knowledge of man

i come from honeysuckle and frankincense

i come from summer fruit in yellow sunrise tapas bowls

i come from summertime. the squawk, the splash, the sear, the shade.

i come from skin

i come from breath

i come from calm

◾︎

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loss is a blue marble you turned

over and over     burned

in rheumatic hands before

you wrapped it     cushioned

in a box     gave it to me

at once singed

leaves of sweet summer

strawberries left too long     drilled

by slugs     transmuted into

robin’s song

◾︎

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When I grow up I want to be happy

Fulfilled by my personal achievements

I wish for a stable family life

Kids smiling and playing around

Secure to lead their lives as they will

Appearing from the haze ahead

I see a strong woman

Who has fought her personal ghosts

And has discovered that happiness

Is a feeling she can achieve

By following her own dreams

Rough as cement

Soft as clouds

Her personality shines through

The most unexpected aspects

Of her own features

She is brave

She is strong

She is willed

A ladder

Upwards

Will lead you to where you wish to be

Downwards

Will lead you to where you once were

You may climb as you feel safe

I don’t like how

The world is shaped

For the richest of rich

While the more unfortunate

Live in need

Of the most basic necessities

I don’t like how

People fail to look

Beyond their own realms

And refuse to notice

The imperative need

For the world to be reframed

No one wants to hear about your sorrows

No one is ready to hear about your failures

On social medias

All you show

Is happiness

And success

As life goes

Falling short

Of expectations

Has become a taboo

In the likes and follows

Unless you are perfect

You will flop

I dream of a day

When honesty supersedes

Lies

I dream of a day

When being your true self

Is more important

Than a façade of false pretensions.

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Ode to my heart

tik tok… tik tok

every step we took in a similar direction feels like eternity

I danced day and night the same waltz without me or you leaving

but now I let you down and you decided to throw flaming bullets in my direction.

I’m 25 and you decided a few months ago that you didn’t want to work with the same trustworthy quality you’ve proven to me over the years… but I understand… I get it… I deserve it… I’m the one who decided to smoke… I’m the one who decided to drink… I’m the one who decided to gain weight… I’m the one who decided to forget your existence…

I screwed up the one relationship I couldn’t take for granted… I get it…

The dance we create will never be the same anymore… tik tok… tik tok… tiktoktiktoktiktok...tok...beeeeepppp

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Since birth you’ve been with me

Allowing me to kick the world away

You permitted me to jump

From place to place

In the incessant play

All children love

Through my youth

You’ve taken me dancing

On so many different happy occasions.

You first tricked me when we went skiing

And I mistreated you downhill

leaving you scarred and scared

But you came around

And kept me moving

Dancing

Jumping

Through many basketball and volleyball seasons

You played right along me

Adulthood was no ball for you

I didn’t give you all the care I should have

And you became frail, weak.

Until, one day, without any consideration

I pushed and insisted

You join me in de Dojo

Where I allowed you to take a heavy blow

That is when you said: “ENOUGH”

And you split on me

Leaving me to my own luck

Now I find it fundamental to replace you

But that is no easy task

My dear ACL, forgive me

I miss you

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with gratitude my back screams your name…

men will never know or experience the feeling and pain we, warriors, experience day in day out without choice…

To be honest, who would have been crazy enough to be willing to carry 2 kg extra of fat and muscles, that just by the tiny strength of one’s upper back

Euhm I won’t… But I still have to.. Thanks mom…

Thanks mom for giving me boobs, not just boobs… watermelons in the feel… and swords in the pain…

Fortunately for me I have you… sweet piece of fabric, made in all the different colours we could wish for… strong enough to carry my two melons and still make my breast look decent and supported…

When I wear you, it’s like your my antidote.. my pain goes away somehow…

When I wear you, my vocal chords tend to automatically sing I believe I can fly…

But at the end of the day… when I take you off… I believe I can breathe again….

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A symbol of elegance

The hill to be climbed

An aspiration for young girls

A glorious conquest of the adult women

A nightmare for the aging knees.

Tight and uncomfortable

Unsafe and unhealthy.

As they crumple the toes

Into the narrow arrows

That leads the way

Deforming the bones

We think of ancient habits

quick to criticize

Chinese for the habits

Without realizing

We are doing the same

Spikes under us

Highlight our curves

Unnaturally so

To the point where pain

Becomes our truth

Society requires

Women to fit

Into impossible patterns

Of body forms

And when we no longer

Can take the torture

Old and deformed

We are left aside

Substituted

By newer version

Of ourselves

Still willing

To let those hills

Destroy their amazing

Natural beauty.

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Monday was more of a moody day because you know it’s only Monday

Tuesday was a day where you try to do and be better than you were yesterday

Wednesday was a day of wondering what the day will bring

Thursday was a day of thinking about how many more days until the weekend

Friday was a day of focusing on what you will do at the end of the day to unwind and have fun

Saturday was the perfect day to spend with friends or a significant other

Sunday was a perfect day sleep in before the next week begins

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Methods of life's lessons,
Chapters of experience, change is constant and constantly changing,
but some things don't change, they only adapt or evolve,
love stays the same but grows or evolves,
infatuation grows to be love, love evolves to be true love,
pain is always pain, there's no good or bad pain, it's all simply just pain, no matter how great or severe,
there is no love without pain, there is no pain without pleasure and there is no pleasure without love or pain,
the vicious triangle of life boxed in by human nature and it's vices.

Claudius Judge IV.

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His demeanor is as friendly as an old-time companion,

Never failing in  his kindness, and hospitality.

Never insulting, condescending, sarcastic, patronizing,

Always showing respect, even though HE is the one to look up to.

A good sense of humor prevailing,

Just at the right moments!

With love and strength as his demeanor,

Perhaps at times, underplaying his intelligence and intellectual capabilities,

He has a smile, reminiscent of a California sunrise,

Strong and shining for all the world to see,

AS harmonious as a Beatles tune

As pleasant to be around as anyone you would want to be,

He is, in effect,

“The gentleman”

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Ecstasy, you are my ecstasy

You are my fake happy

People find their fake happy

In a lover or a baby

But I am lost in this love I found

Within you and me

The leaves always has a dance saved

For the wind

I just want to prove myself wrong for the win

The self could be the biggest doubter

I just had a recollection of how life is without her

I kind of forgot at one point in time,

I loved her…

You show me how to feel

You show me how demanding my heart can be

My brain feels like an earthquake

And my ribs feel like the reverb of music

I am running standing still

I run in all directions

And I can’t find myself still

And I can’t find love still

And I can’t find a reason why my dad left still

I thought I was over it, but still…

Half my life is one long bus ride

The connection milestones I have in mind

The daisies are blooming now

The cherry blossoms are around

I feel like flowers are the only ones

That understand

My sister is blossoming into her own bouquet

She plays with her hair,

Adds a couple barrettes

I can sense that in her life,

She knows her way

My proudness will follow her

My older sister nature will guide her

Maybe I’m outgrowing the vision

Of where I want to be

Because I am already here

And the moments are passing me

Why is change,

The character of development,

The duality of death?

Why do you have to be taken from me

In order to be a step closer to success?

I am a wheel of fortune with culture

I remembered there’s Japanese lineage

Within my grandmother

Being Filipino is already a halo-halo of others

I may understand everything

But my favorite is to say “iloveyou” in togalog

I can’t meditate with others

They turn my energy frequency into static

Can’t put a price on energy

But you had limits to your love

And went overboard with your time

And engraved trauma in my mind

Why you still exist?

I’ll never know

What your karma is?

I wish life would show

Daylight feels like a program

A screensaver window

What is it that’s in the water?

I can’t ever trust what I drink

But if you think about it,

It’ll make me stop thinking

So hand it to me,

I’ll take more than a sip

But that’s what made her spirit slip

Drinking ghosts will turn you into one

But she’s a star in the sky now,

Don’t forget where you came from