Steve

Just like a wide proton arc, they illuminated their path with a deep hue, highlighting everything they came across radiating warmth as if it were a nuclear power posessing those around them with a rare light that was fuelled by hope.

Almost like a river constructed of light flowing towards the moon, this was a universe in which those wishes upon stars had come true and they were together as one, a soul and mind in the same place.

What was behind them felt  light years away, they were burning through the darkness like only light can, a core of consciousness erupting with appreciation for where they were right now. No darkness could dim the glow of their electric hue bursting through creating atmosphere.

Having known this, right here is what they had been waiting for since they were just atoms of space dust, before they collided snd found their dust. They had always been able to light up a sky, they had just never had the right force behind them before.

Chinese

“Ey up love, can yer recommend me a good Chinese round ‘ere please?” 

A stout gentleman rested his hands upon the bar, he was a little shorter than her but managed to meet her gaze.

“Sure”, the girl said, for she did this multiple times a week.

“There’s one just off the Main Street in the city, you’re best off getting a taxi there. She could visualise exactly which route the taxi would take to get there, it would drop him at the side and he would have to walk round to the front, it was a dark and rainy night but over the bar, she could see him holding a large umbrella. Business man she thought.

“Ahh”, he nodded as if in agreement, 

“One of your regular haunts is it?” 

“No, I just have it on very good authority”, she smiled at the thought of the girl who used to pull pints alongside her on this bar. She had never really been a fan of Chinese food herself but Megan had sworn by this place tucked away from the large overcrowded place right in the centre. Although they had only ever ordered hungover takeaway from it which she could barely manage. 

“Well, I’ll just ‘av ter check it out for meself”, the man’s strong Yorkshire accent was obvious, he must have originally been from these parts. She always thought it was nice when people didn’t lose their roots and returned back to God’s county. 

“Cheers for that, I’ll let yer know if it’s any good”, he said as he wandered off to find a taxi, Peroni in hand.

She was left feeling a small sadness but knew that Megan would be proud of her recommendation and that in itself was enough to make her feel content for the rest of the shift. 

Manchester

So they’ll detonate a few bombs in throughout our great cities,

kill our friends and families,

but refuse to destroy our spirits,

because after all, we built this, from nothing

We used to live in stick houses and make fire with our bare hands,

from that we discovered bricks and glass,

we created paths, carriages and horses, the romans built them poker straight,

we edited that to create twists and turns and then machines that could navigate those,

the saxons invaded us giving our country its name, altering our language, we have never been afraid to let others edit our culture , to settle here and share this land we call home but your attacks will never become part of our daily lives, we will always be horrified by them and what you are doing to those in your own countries,

we stood up to Hitler and his nazis ensuring he would surrender,

his bombs destructed most of the country,

but we rebuilt our churches, hospitals and homes,

Hitler didn’t even get close to our landmarks,

St Pauls and Battersea remained with just a nick in their side repaired in no time.

Horrors of that were forgotten when we all got high and sung along to the Beatles in the 60s,

The IRA haunted us for over twenty years attempting to blow up our primeministers and devestate our cities including the one you’ve just hit.

Nah, I don’t think you’re gonna get us mate, we’ll just grab a pint, drink to the memories of those we’ve lost and sit in our locals till you’re done, we’ve got enough breweries to keep us going, enough chippuies to fulfill our hunger, enough Oasis, The Smiths and Stones to drown out the sound of your hate preaching. There will be minutes of remembrance at our concerts, football matches followed by cheering as loud as we can to show our support to those who have lost people but not their fine spirit.

We are grateful to everyone who has contributed to our communities, helped build them, the Pakistanis that have become doctors, the Iranians who are teachers, all of these embody what is is to be British and help to repair the damage that you have done.

What you represent is not a religion but your own greed and own cruel will you wish to inflict upon the entire world. 

We are British, but above all, we are human beings with conscience, something you fail to acknowledge in your mission to play God and sabotage our way life of life.

 

 

 

 

 

Pounce

He was waiting for me,

On a warm night, little did I know as I hit the flush,

That once I unlocked that door,

He would pounce like a panther,

Push me in to the cubicle, bash my head against the wall,

I thought I’d scream, but no sound came,

He stole more than just my body,

My senses were temporarily misplaced too,

All I felt was pain, that accent still terrifies me to the core now,

But it was never really over, it continued in my head,

But back with my friends, it was as if nothing abnormal had happened at all,

As if I had just been to touch up my make up,

Pushing back the pain and covering up my bruises with my dress,

Blaming my wet eyes on the smoke around us,

Yet I could still feel his stare from across the room,

Running was not an option here,

I could not bring myself to ruin the night for my friends,

Nor the life of his operation bound son, nor bare the grief of my parents’ worst fears coming true,

But I am still in ruins over whether he did it to anyone else and that guilt will always consume me,

For he did what his society had taught him and used me as an object that he felt he had the right to despite my protestations

So I tried to stay away but somehow he always came my way,

So I placed my feet on to another solid land,

And he is still there digging in the sand,

I found freedom and I refuse to let the fear of what him or another could do let me live only in the light of day.

Birthday

It’s your birthday today. 52. That’s how many candles you would be blowing out but he has to do it without you now. The first time ever and he won’t get to speak to you on the 14th April, a day you both shared together in some way for your entire lives. The anniversary of when you both entered this crazy planet, you first of course. Always did have to be the first, didn’t you? 

We all feel a little lost without you and I have missed you more than ever over the past few months, I want to talk to you about my job and the situation before. I miss you so much, it still hurts six months later. I  still tear up when I hear that song by ELO and it’s crazy because it’s one of the most upbeat songs. 

 You enriched my life and so I would have loved to show you that on today of all days. But you’ve gone hopefully to a better place, and I know it did it just after you left but I’m going to do the poem thing again. 

Please know that you’ve been in my thoughts all day and I hope you are spending it with the others who have left and who love and adore you wandering around blissful scenery. 

I’ll look after him and the rest for you, I promise. This day will never be the same for him and he doesn’t know how to feel. But we’ll toast you with a glass of red or scotch and I’ll wear some outfit that you can question or laugh at from up there. Yet your favourite shirt was yellow… and that is not a colour for everyone despite what Vogue is currently telling everyone.

—————————-

Saturday Morning

Waking up, me chirpy and annoying and you groggy pulling me in to you so close I could barely breathe,

I’d make one of my silly faces or something to make you laugh and ease you in to the day,

Pulling  my pyjamas on, I’d get up and put on a pot of coffee,

Then I’d make either pancakes or bacon eggs, it was the days before Avo on sourdough, you’d come and cheekily slap my bum and ‘help’ me finish breakfast

The best days were when there would be a 12 pm kick off and we’d stay pyjama clad to watch North London’s finest game on your 50 inch screen.

My legs over yours, skin on skin, cold bottle of lager in our hands. Still dressed in my pyjama t- shirt and shorts, placing bets over the score, the loser would buy tonight’s dinner and the winner would decide where.

We’d play fight over the remote at half time and argue over what to catch 15 minutes of, normally we’d settle on Hollyoaks repeats.

I’d pray our team would win so you’d be in a good mood, I’d check the score even when you’d gone to a game to decipher whether or not you’d need cheering up,

We’d go for dinner in the evening, you were a chef but adored Nando’s, occassionally if you were up early on Sunday, it would be a takeaway in front of the TV and now I kinda miss those days, where I could wake up with someone on weekends.

 

Shadow Definition

And not so long ago, I was a shadow, full on the inside, within myself yet I hid my definition behind the sun’s ray. It made me doubt every thought, every word, the light shining on me made me want to run feeling awkward and unsure, the heat gave me red cheeks and sweaty palms. Gradually, I realised life should be lived in the light, the heat made me shed my layers and I catapulted out of the darkness turning my shadow in to a reflection of the girl I had always known.