by Dean Atta
All he knew was that she went to London
So he decided to follow
When he landed, he found himself stranded
With nowhere to go
His passion and hasty decision
Turned into months of regret and sorrow
His lost love pained him like a sickness
So he sought out street pharmacists
He quickly became addicted
But found no fix as good
As his love’s sweet kiss
John approached me
At the bus stop
Just last week
I admit, I judged him
Before he even started to speak
He said, ‘Give me some money.’
And I said, ‘No, I know where that money’s gonna go.’
He said, ‘Please, bruv, I’m hungry.’
I said, ‘I’ll buy you a sandwich then.’
He said, ‘I don’t want that.’
I said, ‘I’ll get you some chicken and chips.’
He said, ‘Nah, I’m a vegetarian.’
I said, ‘Well, then I’ll buy you a salad.’
He said, ‘Look, I just want the money, yeah, I just want the money.’
I said, ‘Well, I just want many things but beggars can’t be choosers.’
He said, ‘I ain’t a beggar, bruv, I ain’t a beggar.’
I said, ‘Well, then I beg you, bruv, just move on.’
And that was the last I ever saw of John
But I thought about him all day long
I felt a bit ashamed
And a little bit guilty
But mostly I felt lucky
Because although I ain’t got the key to the city
I got keys to houses in Wembley, Stonebridge
Harlesden and Cyprus
From north-west London
To the Mediterranean
Wherever I lay my hat
That’s my home
I’ve been to Paris, Amsterdam
Barcelona, Egypt
And it’s all the same
Just people on a hustle
Locked in the city mind-state
Businessmen
And men in the business
Of making a profit at all costs
Career women
And women whose careers
Are taking all their clothes off
School kids
And kids getting schooled by the streets
Used by the streets, abused by the streets
Confused by these streets
And their portrayal in music and on TV
See me I’m from North Weezy
But I’m not on Channel U reppin’ ends
And I don’t roll with a crew
Just a few close friends.
I make moves on my Oyster card
I don’t drive a Benz
I’ve got ten pounds in my pocket
Until the week ends
I speak on Facebook
Because T-Mobile locked off my phone
My friends come check me still
I am never alone
But this city can be lonely
That’s why youths roll with crews
And this city can be dangerous
That’s why many carry tools
See all they want is comfort and protection
But all they get is stigma and rejection
Then they get locked up
For one stupid mistake
And they’re caught in a cycle
So hard to break
Either in and out of prison
Or on and off the junk
Or both in many cases
And John, he’s well on his way
His story is one of many
Misguided youths and runaways
See John went on to get some money
Later on that night
He jumped a girl in an alley
Taking advantage of the lack of light
He grabbed her from behind
And put a knife to her neck
He had not done this before
He was a desperate and nervous wreck
He told her not to move
But for some reason
She tried to turn around
His knife ran her though
And he dropped her
Face down on the ground
John took her purse
Bought his medicine
And forgot the whole day
While his lost love Melissa
Lay bleeding in an alleyway.
Without You
My achievements
Don’t seem to matter
The bubbles in this champagne
Seem flatter than water
I was wishing on a star
And I can’t believe I caught her
Then let her go
My hands are far from empty though
The illuminations are plentiful
I see constellations full of imitations
Temporarily, I’m blinded by the lights
But none shine as bright as you
In ’04 when you first came into view
I knew you were one of a kind
I loved you more
Than any one of my rhymes
Love so true
I doubt I could ever find it again
My best friend
I knew I was blessed when
We would share a bed at night
Or just talk for hours on the phone
With you in my life I never felt alone
But now lonely is the only other company
Even though I’m living quite comfortably
There is no one I can tell how I truly feel
So call me ‘Shh . . .’ cos my lips are sealed
When I was lost
You were the one who found me
When I was confused
You spoke those harsh truths
When I was a mess
To you I could confess
When I lost hope
You kept me afloat
Now
‘As two ships passing in the night
So quietly neath the stars soft light
Our paths cross but now and then’
But it will ever feel the same again
You ascend, as you dream
With your eyes wide open
I’m still wishing on a star
When the dawn has broken
Without you.
Shadow Boxer
Oscar Wilde said, ‘Be yourself
Everyone else is taken’
But if I found your life vacant
I might take it
Because I believe
I would make the better you
But who’s to tell?
Who was the better Batman
Better Bond or Doctor Who?
Like you’re Smallville
And I’m Superman 2
The prequel to my sequel
My not quite déjà vu
I walk in scuffed shoes
That are new to you
Speak in tired clichés
That are news to you
I look at my reflection
And I see you
An instant vintage kind of guy
A J Dilla kind of Blue Note
Revisited – with new hope
Yours is a heart that only just broke
A mouth that only speaks the truth
After the gold rush of your youth
Will come a time to harvest dreams
But you journey through the past
Trying to make each moment last
Time fades away
But your visions of love
Are here to stay
If I woke up wearing your T-shirt
Would I feel the same way?
Would I miss my own four letters
Or embrace your name?
Would I know the names
Of more super heroes?
Would I know more
about
70s west-coast folk or
80s and 90s hip-hop?
Would my talent grow?
Would my confidence drop?
If I could see through your eyes
Maybe I would know why
You could not walk away
From the games she played
Cos when your shadow boxes back
You can’t bob and weave that for long
When you’ve shared a bed with kryptonite
No wonder you feel weak at night
Wear a costume and pretend it’s all right
The Joker dressed up as the Dark Knight
The spy with no mission
Just sharp suits and women
Drinking scotch on the rocks
Looking suave with no money
And no clue
Of just how awesome you are
I look at my reflection
And I see you
Standing there, next to me
And it’s the perfect view.
Ego Extensions
If you treat
Other people
Like extensions
Of your ego
And don’t see
Them as complete
And independent
Of you
Unspoken
Assumptions
Will hurt more
Than the truth
That no one
Was put
On this earth
Just for you.
More Than This
I knew, before we’d even spoken
My skinny-jean-clad punk-rock poet
Tattooed and pierced
Painted and punctured
Denim, metal and ink
Pint glass in one hand
Poem in the other
Mouthfuls of beer dislodge illicit imagery
And forbidden metaphors
Crumpled A4 sheet casually discarded
As the last lyrics leave his lips
He leaves me naked
On a tobacco and cannabis speckled rug
On his living-room floor
Wrapped up in a blanket, damp with semen, lubricant
And the cold tea we spilled in our frantic lovemaking
‘I’ve got to go to work,’ he says, ‘You can let yourself out.’
I guess it’s nice to know I can get what I want
But maybe I should want more than this.
Off the Wall
I know exactly the order these records will play
Still I hope the DJ will surprise me today
They say you can’t meet a king in a club
But you were quite the Prince Charming
Disarming me from the get-go
I let go of all my inhibitions
Took my back off the wall and accepted your invitation
Most guys in here I wouldn’t give a second glance
But there was something about your bold advance
That convinced me to take this chance and dance
Pause
Sorry, I’m already telling lies
I’m a wolf in a fluffy disguise
I’m no shrinking violet wallflower
But I’d like to let you think I’m shy
I’m not so unobtainable
I pretend to be unapproachable
In the hope that you’ll approach me
I notice you noticing me
Ignore you purposefully
And wait here patiently
Seemingly aloof
Now you know the truth
Do you think I’m a player?
Desperate? Deluded or just damaged?
Can you tell me? Cos I can’t be certain
All I know is I’m here constantly hurting
I thought the pain would fade with a little harmless flirting
But their eyes cut across me like these disco laser lights
They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes
Then I guess I’ve been dying to meet you here
Because I see my dating history all around us
Rewind
An early ex-boyfriend who still calls me most days
I’m still his go-to guy even though I make him cry
When we have sex we say, ‘I love you’ – a true lie
Then there’s the sweetest guy I ever met
Who I strung along for a couple of months
Before saying, ‘Let’s just be friends’
That guy with whom I had
The World’s Greatest First Date Ever
But he never called again
And then a former friend I fell out with
Not long after falling into bed with
And that guy I kissed one, two, many times
And have no regrets about
Even though we both had partners at the time
I can’t stop
I won’t stop
I don’t stop
Even though I get more than enough
I Can’t Help It; It’s the Falling In Love
With the idea of falling in love
When I Get On The Floor and Rock With You
‘You’ being the man who stands before me now
Or last week
Or last year
Is the picture becoming clear?
If you knew all this, would you still take my hand
And lead me past them past men on to the dancefloor?
Fast forward
And the records spin; we are one hour in
But it’s pretty clear you are not my king
I don’t have the desire to dance all night
Not to say I don’t admire yours
We don’t have the connection I hoped we might
Not to say I think you’re flawed
We are all imperfect
Our imperfection can make this selection easy or hard
Depending on how and where you have been scarred
Beaten, bruised, torn apart and left in Love’s mortuary
I’ve had my fair share of wear and tear
I have torn, bruised and broken others
(But I only kill the connection
I don’t literally murder lovers)
They’re not skeletons in my closet
This isn’t murder on the dancefloor
But we are grooving in a graveyard
Rocking and rolling in the rubble of relationships
Lost lust, mistrust
Where I see all of this
You see only us
Stop
This was just a game from the beginning
But neither of us is any closer to winning
This record is all played out
This club, a coliseum of carnal catastrophe
It’s not the soundtrack or the sodomy that bothers me
It’s my growing lack of empathy
And the always leaving here feeling empty
And the always coming back wanting more
Of what is not on offer
They say you can’t meet a king in a club
That’s why this king will wear no crown
Until they burn this disco down.
My Love
after Joshua Idehen
My love is amnesia
Never knowing its home
It met you in a club
And dumped you by poem
My love rhymes with everything
It can’t have been a could’ve been
If it should’ve been, it would’ve been
It can’t be seen through green eyes
It’s not surprising that you found a new love
It publicly denies ever loving you
But it doesn’t die; it regenerates
In a blue police ‘public call’ box
A disguise; larger on the inside
My love has no telephone
If it could travel through time
It would love itself through history
My love is no
great mystery
It’s a glass half empty
Amaretto on the rocks
A friendly drunk
Makes love wearing socks
And gets cold feet wearing your shoes
‘And I will always love you’
Is not something it would say
My love is this; the fifth fucking draft
Of a poem trying to describe my love
It would never make a mix tape
It abandons every Rubik’s Cube
It is not retro nor is it cool
My love is a special kind of fool
It hates hotel rooms without holidays
And perfect partners who live far away
It’s definitely not ‘What’s Good?’
My love is not misunderstood
But it could never ‘Say it Right’
It is a boxer who doesn’t fight
It would never date a comedian
It doesn’t laugh at or tell jokes
It snorts coke with drag queens
Smokes weed with waste men
It has dreams but would never chase them
A Christmas present in June
Either too late or far too soon
A gift that I’d never give
A ghost who’s never lived
And never known closure
Because it never begins the right way
My love is amnesia
Never knowing its home
It met you in a club
And dumped you by poem
My love is frightfully familiar
But you would never know
It doesn’t know what it could be
Because I am afraid to show it.
Rome is Eternal
She said that road was closed
When a car fell through the pavement
Because everyone here knows
Rome is built on many layers
Streets on top of streets, centuries deep
I was half-listening to her but I was also
Checking out a guy in tightly fitting jeans
She said, ‘He’s not gay, he’s just Italian.’
Those telltale signs don’t translate here
Even body language was foreign to me
Back home I can suss men out speedily
With successful subtlety but here in Rome
My gaydar flashed left right everywhere
With many layers of miscommunication
So I turned to my trusty iPhone
For some serious investigation
I log on to Grindr; iPhone gay sex finder
Yep, ‘there’s an app for that’
I didn’t come to Rome for this
Random sex isn’t something that I miss
Almost a year without a one-night stand
This certainly wasn’t planned
But it was a welcome surprise
When he popped up on my iPhone screen
(Location 24 metres away)
My friend who grew up here said
She didn’t know anyone who was gay