Biography
Born and raised in Moss Side, Manchester in a Carribbean household. my only memories of my childhood are The X-Men, Jam Butties, Thundercats and some girl who tried to pull my knickers down when i was 6.
So to escape it all i'd go into my leaf-green little world of writing stories and poetry. The passion for it never really left me, or I never really left it?
I have performed in Manchester at the Contact Theatre in the production, Crow of Murders (February 2008), at the Freed Up Event at The Greenroom and at the Taurus Bar Canal St (March 2008) .
My collection of poetry reminds me of a car-boot sale... I don't know why? It just does.
Samples
Fuck The B.N.P.
I am British
yeah Me
though probably
and strongly disagreed
by the BNP.
Cause when they look at me
and see
the tightly curled hair
the thickly formed lips
the chocholate coloured skin that I am in.
They will say...
"She's not British".
But! I talk with an accent
unlike some others
I say shit like,
"Ya wat" and "Safe"
just like mi sisters and brothers.
But when I say i'm British some dickheads disagree
and say...
"Nar Love, your just 5.2 percent of the ethnic minority".
It's not that I am not proud of my beautiful Carribbean roots
I mean I love my people
my culture
the music and the fruits...
But I Am British!
I support British teams,
I mean as a teen standing on the pitch at Ainfield was one of my dreams.
Though i'm not a fan of your queen.
I'm not a Brit to that extreme
I'm not keen on the whole regime and
I don't get your love for tea...
But I Am British!
I was taught in three British schools
I abide by British rules
I grew up loving soul and reggae
but
I think Oasis and Coldplay are cool.
I was there
through Thatcher, Major and Blair
Throughout the IRA bomb scares
Felt my house shake when they hit town and brought Manchester down!
But yet!
They force me to tick that box
Which I think's a disgrace!
What have my office typing skills got to do with my fucking race?
But isn't it obvious?
Look at my face.
But what you get is what you see.
So FUCK the B.N.P.
Cause i'm British,
yeah me.
Mr Wood
Me and Mr Wood,
Got a good thing going on!
He's my new companion,
Who never does me wrong.
Mr Wood lives with me,
We've been together just six weeks.
He sleeps on the panties in my drawer,
and plays between my sheets.
Mr Wood and Me,
Got a great thing yes we do!
As long as his battery's charged
Laying on my back is all I do.
Mr Wood's always long and ready
He's so durable and strong.
He never, ever leaves cum stains
Mr Wood's forever, he's lifelong!
I Have Moved On
I gave up precious days
loving you. Precious hours making love to you.
Yeah even precious saliva wasted on... Just wastesd.
Now I cant believe your sitting there,
not laying here,
not in my arms
making me feel. Like you said you would.
The definition of bullshit. Is you,
you cant spell truth,
honesty blinds you,
never thought you would. You're no good.
It's been another year of me holding onto
lies, memories, lies lies, memories lies.
But a new year is here. Im seeing through clear eyes.
My own.
My world, my year.
There are times. When your lies
perice through me,
right in deep. keep me from sleep,
But what the hell!
I belive shit always happens for a reason
even if it's to me,
I see it as a story to tell. Or maybe a poem to write.
But then I look at your life and feel,
a little pitty
you silly,
confused,
down and out
man. Dammn.
You gave me up on the basis of
what?
You're troubled,
messed up,
I used to give a fuck!
I hope she's worth it. But from what you say she's not.
But not my problem.
Look what I got!
Who's missing out?
Who's missing?
Me?
No! I've moved on
you're still where you used to be.
Life can be funny.
We Were In Love
I loved him for his consistently, different & magnificent ways
That thing we had there was NOT a phase (well not at the time)
At the time we WERE in love...xxx
I loved him with A passion
Like Versace loves fashion
Nothing!
No One!
Could get inbetween
Nobody
except his girlfriend I mean.
© Copyright 2009 Ms J.A. Lewis
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Last blog entry
Posted on Thursday 24th December 2009 10:01 am
That’s just emotion
Tears fall against the itchy redness of my face. A customary reaction, expression of my uncontrollable emotion. The death of me? He probably will be, cause for us both to exist in this is close to nil. Like having double Spider men, only one wins.
So once again, the contents of my torso bounce on trampolines and force me to present my breakfast for the second time, and my wrists bleed but there are no cuts. I just despise him that much.
My insides scream at the slightest thought and I go into this dream-like state of hate, and I pray that it is a dream and like the fairytale I’ll awake. The worst part is, it’s beyond my control and all in his and I allowed it to be, but not because I was weak or a result of defeat, but I allowed it to be! Paper bags and my inhaler have no lasting effect, panic attacks and itchy skin, flaking at my scalp and I scratch and scratch in an attempt to make it go away but that just leads to sores and sores lead to more pain and then that leads to hate again and I’m back where I started, lemon like, bitter!
I constantly turn my other cheek but then punch out at his face. I ignore his poison for a month and then find myself spitting venom back. I can’t survive on the hope of Karma, it’s not enough and I’m certain as algebra is that one of us will cancel out the other.
Sooner or later.
Previous: We Were In Love
View or make comments. (2 comments)
Dogstails
Wed 24th Mar 2010 20:16
Hey,
Mr Wood made me chuckle, thought you was writing about a cat at first..