And now for something completely different... A small selection of my paintings

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the pursuit of happiness

so you know who your friends are
at 2.23am on a Monday morning
and it's too late for music and drinking whiskey out of a champagne glass
anything positive is only just enough at this time
so push on through the reasonable
the whole building is aching and creaking with the sound of bass
but it is far more important that some words get through the shell to you
so fuck all the responsibilities of tomorrow
and keep on getting older and older and older
nothing brings any more joy
just keep finding excuses to escape
a walk into the wilderness
a walkabout is due
but not yet
it will come but there is still much to do
if it is possible to internalise something that is intrinsically powerful and external
none of this would be essential
a subject I discussed very recently with a very important person in my life
anyway
I was there
destroyed gang life and that
yes I beat all that
we lived hard and never had to draw gun
I flew back down south
and yes the pace is slow compared
but I can breathe the beat whilst watching sunsets
and green hills
and rivers flowing
and yes I am sat
2.53 drinking whiskey from a champagne glass
heavy beat in headphones
not quite where I was 5 years ago
but progression from there
happiness is almost impossible to achieve
but you can try to obtain objectives
I got a few
but plenty still spin round my head
with stars in time with beats
and alternate criticisms still ringing from early defeats
I still hope to beat on through you
and destroy anything you ever said
rebuild then some
so I reckon this is almost done
destruction now for everyone
like I said whiskey in a champagne glass
and this says something about what I think about holding your chin up
so hold down
and hold your chin up
another whiskey and we will be strong
forever
and on and on

Things fall together

The year following the death of two great Africans
I have never seen storms like this
The wind tears and screams our cities apart
The bold steely creations of man have been swallowed by the sea
And water fills our homes
Disrespectfully
Washing away the clutter of a modern English family
You only have to turn on the tv
For angry pink faces publicly venting their frustration for living too close to the beach
A million miles from the intense African heat
Of the savannah or Sokoto streets
A little more hot and a little more beat
Without two loud guiding voices

Yet the dream is still alive and thrives
We still have Half of a yellow sun
And it makes our relative degree of suffering a million miles from real plight
I get wet, unfortunate
But I survive