kaleeM rajA

Biography

Edgy and humorous British Asian poet and journalist. Poetry editor of the View From Here, founder of the reVerse View Poetry Group and host of the Spoken Word at the UK Centre for the Carnival Arts. kaleeM has had work published in Ink magazine, Insite magazine, various online sites (Hub pages, Glogster, Watpad) and work featured on social websites (Blogger, Youtube, Facebook). He has also had work published in local magazines and newpapers. His self published works include As and other Poems, January - February and Son of Man. He’s a member of the Luton Poetry Society, Irish Forum Literary Society, London Poetry Society and Luton Writers’ Group. Has performed in London, Bedford, Luton, Dunstable and Leicester.

Samples

My Goldfish Died Today One of my goldfish died today. On this I have nothing more to say. That’s why this poem is short. An Old Man Has Taken Over My Face An old man has taken over my face He’s moved his bags into my eyes And set up lines where I smile And painted my hair a ghostly white. He’s planted hairs in my ears And world weary cares in my head. He’s borrowed my image And buried it in furrowed brows and faded teeth. He called unexpected and came unannounced And frowns when I ask him to leave. London London is the sermon That no one will hear, Nobody cares. Time folds in on itself Under the force of its own speed. Remember the fall after your summer of love And invincible life? It was the hallowed streets of this town That convoyed you through Its every social shindig, Every shimmering soiree. It was the legendary landmarks Of this glittering metropolis That welcomed you at every corner Of every street. It was this city of flashing gold That cut the cracks in your teeth, That lit the tracks of your feet Out of the shadowed town of your birth. There you were, Finally alive. After twenty moribund years of inertia, You burst into life, The air heavy with magic spores. You were fallow no more, Sallow no more. Flanked by family and friends convivial, The past was immaterial. Your part was finally congenial To your place. You were misdisplaced, Uninfutile, uninfertile, Dedispossessed, disunrequited Death undone and unblighted After all. All those people that abused you, All those words that bruised you Were no more. This town didn’t care For the ghosts of your derelict past. It nestled you in its steel wings, Asphalt beak and concrete claw And gave you the wings With which to flee. You were wax and feather graced, Aquiline and proud faced, You were free.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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