Monday, 15 August 2011


Good evening People, I hope this post finds you all well.

It's been a very emotional week or so, and I for one am feeling drained, stressed out and fed up. I've wanted to write a post for three weeks now, but am only just finding time to actually do it and now that I'm here, I don't even know hot to articulate how I'm feeling or what I want to say. So, instead of a long drawn out post, I'm going to leave you with the very first poem that I ever wrote and performed, back in June 2007. It was inspired by despair and that same despair revisited me last week, so I thought it appropriate to share it with you - some of you may have heard it before, but most of you won't have.

As always, your comments are very much welcome.

In the meantime, take care, be safe and keep your eyes open - distractions are all around us, don't let them fool you!




Please, tell me why, when I gaze into my brothers eyes
Does despair, haltingly glare?
They say the eyes are the windows to our soul
Since that’s the case, their story must be told

Hopes hung, dreams destroyed, aspirations asphyxiated
Talent trampled, prime pummelled, manhood manipulated
What will become of the West’s harsh plan for our males?
Grandfathers to Fathers, boys to men assailed

Parenting extinct, responsibility deemed redundant
When did the joys of Fatherhood become so repugnant?

Relationships are history, apparently, not hisstory
He prefers to ‘link’, to ‘bash’, to ‘put away’
Calls girls ‘Gash’ and treat them like trash
No love for so-called ‘Skets’ on video sets

Queens with buff batties and breasts for days
Hair down their backs with faces up-made
The lighter the better, or so they’re portrayed
Is respect for women outdated? Can it be re-created?
Will they remain ‘Sluts’, ‘Bitches’ and ‘Hoes’?
Or could it all change, if they put on more clothes?

Resonations of “get an education, go college, do your best!”
Words that truly, stick in their heads
But what can he do when his best fails their tests?
Parents casting blame, eye-cutting and getting vex

No room for creativity, flair or natural hair
In classrooms and establishments the styles too Ebonair
Authority hating on the clothes that they wear
Inciting insecurity, paranoia and fear

Ten youngsters, aged eight, nine and ten
Stalking the streets, dying to be men
What happened to childhood; days of fun and joy?
Kidulthood? What a killjoy!
Ten youngsters, just friends?
Nah, never that!
The Press said they’re gangs
So it must be fact!

Terrorisers of neighbours, bullies in school
Truancy, ASBO’s and expulsion too
Stereotyping and marginalisation
What happened to the Parent & Teacher Associations?

Perhaps they were stolen in the depths of the night
By Hoodies armed with pistols, and bearing sharp knives
Channel U?
Channel Me?
Channel He?
Channel She?
Child Please!!

Uneducated, Uncaring, Unconscious and morally deprived
Channelling energies into images of despise
Despisement of self, of fellow-kin and of life
Spurning our Ancestors grief, trouble and strife
Tel-lie-vision incites M for ‘Murk’
Glamorising guns, drugs, death and hurt
MTV this, MTV that
Pimp my Ride, Yo Mommas fat!
What images and examples are we showing our Youths?
Materialism is so damn uncouth!

“Makes me wanna holla!” exclaimed Nathan McCall
My thoughts exactly, but who can we call?
Brothas out here, living in fear
No love on these streets
As mans try to eat

Every man for himself
Looking over his shoulder
But the Backstabbers in front
Posing, as his Brother

A society where we’ve been trained and taught to hate
Why must death or jail be their only fate?
Mans beefing and fighting across districts and Boroughs
Killing Bredrin and foe for mere butter and Hard-Dough

Bravado, hard faces and squinted eyes
All of these traits, clearly a disguise
The young man on the inside, seeking solace and guidance
But all that he has are Crimestoppers and Trident

Brothas wanna be cool, accepted, respected
Is that too much to ask of their peers and protectors?
Are expectations too unreasonable to be perfected?
How difficult is it to not make them feel rejected?

It seems to me, quite simple y’know
Treat young men like you want them to grow
Intellectually, respectfully, strong and bold
Make them over-stand they have something to behold

Hopes and aspirations are frequently ambitious
But Parents, Teachers and Carers often treat them exiguous
Some wanna be Rappers, Sportsmen and do well
Their dreams are attainable, if they remain on-scale

Entertainers are they can be, but other professions demandable
If they continue to strive, their accomplishments will be redeemable
The world is their oyster, no obstacle is too steep
If they believe in thy self ANYWHERE can be reached.

© S.Stewart aka Comfort June 2007

1 comment:

  1. A great poem Comfort! Written in 2007? yet still very apt, resonates with the current situation as much as it did then.
    Nice post.