Peer Pressure (written by a girl at Ivimila High School, Zimbabwe)
"Try it, jus' try"
a daily influence we get
from our friends.
Bang! Bang!
the thunderous sound
from the major strait
humour, in the court of law.
Why in court?
'cause a teenager
has committed murder.
Why such a crime?
'cause invisible energy,
that is drunkness.
Oh God, he shouldn't have took even
a single sip
but to no avail, his friend
advised him to do so.
I'm not telling a story,
I'm passing my piece of mind about
'Peer Pressure'
Beware of 'Peer Pressure' 'cause
you are at risk of 'Peer Pressure'
and you can be destroyed by 'Peer Pressure'
and suffer from 'Peer Pressure'
Traintracks (this was when I was interrailing which was super fun, everyone must try it!)
We are in a limbo
of different lingos, and we go
limbo under the platform of tongues.
Passing through and through and through
the slats, and flats of landscape
we scrape through.
Mastering the ribs of rails,
the spine of the land,
that we have taken for ourselves.
Hanoi
A million indistinguishable voices
of metal and liquid and flesh.
The smacking gums and pulsating breath
upon my neck, my lips and my dry eyes.
I feel dirty as my lungs inhale this concrete city.
Trombone dies and harmonica sighs
the piccolo cries and the tears spill
upon the dust.
This crumbling orchestra. Chaos and mania
you have filled my body
with mismatched melody, contaminated
with life and death and all within
a spectrum of stars.
Bursting out from my mouth,
I can play your notes with laughter.
We are the instruments of the city
These are some others that don't really have names:
This was written whilst I was travelling in Asia. Alot of people take selfies there.
One day a baby will be born
with an iPhone instead of a human hand.
Their arm will be a selfie stick
sinew and pumping muscle stripped back
to metal and mechanical core
A third eye out the back of their head
to stare at a thousand pixols
and absorb their hypnotic spells
(and a thousand stars will die,
because they don't show up well on a photograph)
Most practical to sprout wheels
bony, clumsical limbs morphed and distorted
into fat rubber, arthritic joints to oil cogs
Gobbling greasy fuel to rank up the gears
and expelling tumultuous gases
Prepare to rack your brains, Tinman,
and ask yourself whether evolution is manmade
This is about all those philosophers, mathematicians and magicians
Come, I invite you inside.
Find dancing, flying, hopscotch chemicals.
Build a house of paper and words.
And if the machine jams,
peer
into the most delicate cogs of the mind
tick tick tick
fat numbers tick past.
These full, voluptuous math- answer me now?
how what where why...
I sigh, I sigh.
Stare into this paradox, through digital lands
of atoms and purity and law.
Marvel at this creativity and grin
becuase you know how, but you don't know why.
This is about writing a poem
I shall paint my life with words.
Layer upon layer of oily verse
sculpting voices with clunky clay
and dashes that dance,
that tread, trip, tumble
upon the page
unravelling with sweaty ink those scrawling limbs.
I shall conjure wicked spells
voodoo gifts from the past
I stab the moment,
blood drip-drips through space
and tumbles upon empty fortuity
Cast off your scribe,
my wanderer,
my sorcerer.
For my page is as wide as the universe
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