Inside the minds
(broadcast July 7th 2013)
.
Put yourself inside the mind of a 14 year old child,
Out on the streets that are divided by little white lines,
Words like “Parental Guidance” and “Trident” make him smile,
Like so many other snide jokes,
Of homes that are broken,
Crimes go unspoken,
So knives help him cope against those who would hope to provoke him,
Into losing his way,
.
For the world in which he inhabits is tragic,
And has him choosing this way,
And if it’s a choice to be made between:
Facing the Police, who are rarely seen cruising this way,
Or encountering his enemies armed to the teeth,
Who decree street rulings each day,
.
I ask you,
What does “Stop & Search” actually mean around this way?
.
.
Place yourself inside the mind of Police Constable “59”,
He’s been on the force for a couple of years,
And  is endeared to his career where he shines,
He’s seen the innocent hurt by the guilty & the guilty escape crimes,
He’s sat down with grieving mothers of countless victims,
Who’ve lost their lives in their prime,
.
He’s seen the streets test his morals, his principles & his pride,
Witnessed corruption amongst fellow officers mirror those criminals locked inside,
But he still believes in making a difference to his community,
Especially with the changing of times,
 .
So tell me,
How does he view “Stop & Search” through his eyes?
.
.
Put yourself inside the mind of a businessman who finds,
He seems to be stopped by the police routinely almost all of the time,
It’s the fifth occasion this week,
They hate his car that looks sleek,
.
Once again he’s delayed on his way to work,
But he’s afraid that if he speaks up...
His own work colleagues will just assume his guilt,
So the indignation & harassment felt are swallowed in one excruciating pill,
.
Despite the officers’ provocation,
He now knows the drill,
And when his boss cross-examines him on his lateness,
His lips remain still,
For no-one would believe the hassle he receives travelling in,
.
So c’mon now,
What does “stop & Search” actually mean to him?
.
.
Place yourself inside the mind of an old-aged pensioner confined,
Too scared to open the front door of his flat or of his block to step outside,
He’s been mugged twice already, threatened with a gun to his spine,
And all he received from the police was a letter mumbling;
“Sorry to hear that you’ve been a Victim of Crime”
.
Now he’s afraid to walk the streets,
But sick dreams haunt his mind,
The grip of fear won’t release him,
His neighbourhood needs policing,
Even his 14 year old grandchild now sees fit to carry a knife,
.
So stop & think,
What does “stop & Search” mean to his life?
.
.
(c) Mr Gee

Inside The Minds ("Stop & Search" Radio news item)

More Overtime,
.
I'm sitting at my desk,
I'm trying not to get stressed,
I'm hoping the phone don't ring & it won't bring another test,
Of patience,
I stay tense throughout the day,
To keep the latent heat of my temper at bay,
.
The workplace is the worst place for me to spend my time,
A hurt face & pressed-shirt brace as I feel my mind,
Be constricted by,
The hypocrite-filled lines,
As we all try to play,
The trick to find,
.
Things in common with our associates,
As we run on the hours & we hope it gets,
Over, Finito & done real quick,
When my time is complete, I'm gonna run real quick,
.
Where I can escape & vacate from this mind-numbing place,
It wrecks my mental state everytime I contemplate,
All my family & friends?
I don't get to see them,
On a regular basis, yet it's the same old faces,
That inhabit this place,
That provides the grace of,
My precious time,
That won't ever again be mine,
I know I'll never re-find the years of my prime,
.
So I refuse to grow old with no memories to hold,
I'd rather blow all my dough & travel the world,
They say "you're only young once"
You're only ALIVE..
Once I die, I can't cry about how my boring life shunts,
Me from home to work,
And work to home,
I'm surrounded by people but yet I feel so alone,
.
I get told that I need to,
Grow up & just see to,
The money that feeds you,
Which everyone needs...true,
.
Create a plan that you heed to,
Until you're old & you're feeble,
Forget about the dreams of your young days & be enslaved to whatever pays,
.
And as the years pass:
Month by month,
Week by week,
Day by day,
When you retire;
What do you think that you'll say?
.
That the Office seduced me,
Confused & reduced me,
To sacrifice all my youth see,
I tried to search for what the truth be...
...it the peace of mind that eludes me,
But my bills wanted proof see,
And my mortgage disputes me,
You want me to do more overtime?
.
Absolutely.
.
Mr Gee (c) 2001

More Overtime (live interview on Radio 2)

A snowflakes path,
.
If I could place all life's Winter Sorrows,
As far away from my tomorrows,
To see a snowflake's path that follows,
Beyond the melting point of time,
.
I'd construct a cave of childish wonder,
And place it safe from Life's cruel thunder,
For Stormy weather has no place among the,
World of make-believe & rhyme,
.
The fondest memories of yester-year,
Comfort me with their festive cheer,
Suddenly their faces magically appear,
As my mind recounts their fate,
.
Devilish grins & innocent glances,
Raiding the fridge & taking chances,
Being forced to dance with drunken Aunties,
And this Steve McQueen still hasn't managed to escape,
.
I wish to relive those precious moments,
Overseas phone-calls sounding Golden,
Cheating at monopoly & getting told off,
Even though the banker always smiles,
.
There's much to be said of December's tonic,
As we wind down the old year's promise,
Beyond the rush of midnight shoppers,
We'll find a place where the stillness lies,
.
For survival's grace is but for the few,
And not all dreams, will they come true,
Tinsel-towns have darker hues,
So our greatest gift is life,
.
If I could replace all my Winter Sorrows,
I'd float in the sun-rays of tomorrow,
For a snowflake's path is merely borrowed,
Its path is yet to be defined.
.
(c) Mr Gee

Mr Gee on the Xmas edition of Radio 2 Arts show (Dec 2013)

The Pirates of the Caribbean
.
T’was a clash of ideologies in a tropical storm,
Former Spanish & British colonies drawing pistols at dawn,
When they speak of Cold Wars,
You imagine James Bond travelling abroad,
But it was just Capitalist & Communist Pirates,
Both fighting to keep their rice warm,
.
Ever since the days of Jack Sparrow,
The extinction of the Caribs, Arawaks & Warau,
Walking the plank must seem narrow,
For the Pirates of the Caribbean,
.
You may guess that Captain Morgan sold more than rum,
And question the violence of this region,
Where a fist picks up a knife & faces the gun,
From the Pirates of the Caribbean,
.
When Cuba sided with Russia to eject from the U.S.
Every single island (like a hurricane) would feel its effects,
Fighting for political systems became the new treasure chest,
For the Pirates of the Caribbean,
.
Suddenly all emerging governments were assessed,
To see if they leaned to the right or leaned to the left,
Guns were brought in for this new sporting contest,
Between the Pirates of the Caribbean,
.
By the 1960’s: 
The conflict between Washington & Moscow was fought the Third World over,
Funded regimes from Vietnam to the Congo caused powers to be overthrown,
Poor people killed poor people, while the elite die was cast,
Revolution is harsher than a nice picture of Che Guevara...
....Or quoting a few lines from Marx,
.
But Castro held fast,
Defying the American task,
Operation Mongoose was set upon to...
....loosen his grip & his grasp,
.
Sanctions were expanded across his land,
Havana life became hard,
In order to escape the calamities,
Some families set to sea upon rafts,
.
In the battle of ideologies:
Who is to be believed?
Who can rightly claim the authority when it comes to being free?
.
Pirates of "Socialism" fight Pirates of "Democracy" in the Caribbean Sea,
But if I’m restricted by Castro or Guantanamo,
What difference does it make to me?
.
Time for a dialogue of Hope,
After half a century of Daggers & cloaks,
Yo-Ho-Ho & a bottle of Rum,
Light a cigar & take a smoke,
.
Pray for conversation to prevail,
And a fresh wind to be set in your sails,
Because with the Pirates of the Caribbean,
Dead men tell no tales,
.
(c) Mr Gee


Pirates of the Caribbean

The “In Words”
.
Now I’m not completely offended by the “N-Word”,
But when you combine it with the “In-Words”,
For me,
That’s when the maximum damage occurs,
.
I’m talking about “In-Words” like:
INJUSTICE,
INDIGNITY,
INTOLERANCE,
INDOCTRINATION,
Put it all together...
...and what do you get?
.
When I listen to some music,
It feels like a crash course in self-abusing,
And with no counter-balance of intelligence,
It becomes harder to respectfully challenge or excuse it,
.
For I too grew with:
DJ’s, MC’s, turntables & microphones,
Bragging & boastful fables,
Relaying tales like Al Capone,
.
But times, they are a-changing,
Mindsets are rearranging,
To question what’s the explanation...
...behind this self-hatred we’re displaying?
.
If a Rapper talks about disrespecting women,
And fantasies of killing,
The higher the chart position
Will keep his manager grinning,
.
But if he suggests as to where the PAIN comes from,
What connects the same destruction?
And analyse its consumption,
His career will sink before swimming,
.
Put it all together...
...and what do you get?
.
Now I fully understand that nothing’s promised in this land,
And everybody’s got to make a living,
Trying to do the best they can,
.
I fully understand that sometimes things don’t always go to plan,
And you can find yourself restricted to sit in a position,
When you thought you’d make a stand,
.
But the next time you’re alone,
Equipped with only your pen in your hand,
Trying to write the latest hit,
To shake the hips of all your fans,
.
Before you use the “N-Word”:
Make sure the people understand,
Make sure you explain the “In-Words,
That brought it to be heard across the land,
.
The INJUSTICE as it was dealt,
The INDIGNITY that we felt,
The INTOLERANCE when others speak it,
And the INDOCTRINATION when we repeat it,
.
I’m NOT calling for you to delete it,
Just put some thought in how you treat it,
.
And if you can put that all together...
...you’ll see what you get.
.
(c) Mr Gee


Advice on using the "N-WORD"

Expectations - World Cup 
.
The first whistle blows,
And ALL eyes watch,
The first ball is touched,
And the WHOLE world erupts,
.
Passion untamed,
Passion excites,
Like a burning flame,
Passion ignites,
.
What we expect from every man here,
Is to do his duty,
We expect our fellow supporters to cheer with us,
And we expect our opponents to boo profusely,
.
And ridicule us & despise us,
At every opportunity,
.
And truthfully,
We feel the same,
For there are no favours in this game,
And all eyes are on the same prize for the victory & the acclaim,
.
So we desire:
Goals!
Goals!
Goals!
Goals!
Ahhhh, these we do adore!
.
We demand 90 minutes of composed fitness,
A symphony of defensive skill,
A melody of mid-fielding,
An allegro of an attack,
And break-dancing goalkeeping!
.
We believe that all referees must forgive our trespasses,
And never award any penalties against us,
.
For should they choose to,
And should we lose too!
Hmmmm,
We will respectfully cry like newborn babies,
We’ll blubber, wail,
Sob, sulk & scream,
And yell every accursed name & insult under the sun,
.
And for those of us still harbouring the ancient hatred of a missed penalty kick,
(Even 20 years later),
We reserve the constitutional right to...
Well.....
Moan, (a little bit),
.
For even in the event of failure,
It is our supreme duty to:
Dust ourselves off,
Lick our wounds,
Tie our boots,
And emerge from the Ashes & fly again,
.
Because NOBODY loves this sport the way we love it,
Nobody understands the exhilaration & the pain,
For us (the ever-faithful),
Divorce is not an option,
We don’t just engage for 90 minutes,
We are married to this game,
.
And until death do us part,
From this love affair of two halves,
Where the world becomes our stadium,
And we wear our sleeves on our hearts,
.
Bury us in the national colours of our armour,
Blow the final whistle on our chants,
For we expect nothing more & nothing less,
From this sporting melodrama.
.
From the first whistle that blows,
And ALL eyes watch,
Until the last ball is touched,
And the WHOLE world erupts,
.
.
(c) Mr Gee

Expectations - World Cup

An Island in the Sun
.
Once upon a time there was an island in the sun,
Where the late great Robert Nesta Marley sung,
Where the late great Samuel Sharpe was hung,
Where the late great Marcus Mosiah Garvey’s from,
.
Where out of many,
One people would come,
Some battles were lost,
And some battles were won,
.
This is where Christopher Columbus first let off a gun,
And the echo of a tragedy would then follow,
.
This blast from the past would have a legacy in the present,
From slave-ships to the “Cold War” to a drug dealers weapon,
Turning communities into “Garrisons” & BadMen into legends,
Since the days of the buccaneers they all revered buried treasure,
.
And yet the pieces of hate will be all that we remember,
To pass down for the future to spend,
.
But then again,
Isn’t this just another act in a play that we’ve already seen?
Cannonballs showered the skies in the early Acts of piracy,
Gunpowder was supplied for the Acts of “Empire Bravery”,
Bullets were often required to inspire the entire Act of Slavery,
.
Sadly the fruit never falls very far from the tree,
And dying over sugar or cocaine is a dark part of our history,
White powder still causing Black Death since the 17th century,
Where merchant ships came fully-equipped with the latest weaponry,
.
I’m not just talking about Jamaica,
I’m talking about the entire seven seas,
.
And just like in those early days,
The product moves one way & the guns move another,
And the only constant in this equation is the death of young brothers,
The death of young mothers, the destruction of “One Love”,
It’s almost as if nothing has changed since the days of Columbus,
.
And who always suffers?
.
So behind every sprinkled white line in a big city bar,
There’s a million souls crying, a million miles apart,
For every 1st World high, there’s a 3rd World low,
Swapping addiction for ammunition with politicians in the know,
.
The “Wages of Sin” are paid in full everywhere that you go,
So watch the flames of the father reignited once more,
.
Once upon a time there was an island in the sun,
Where the late great Robert Nesta Marley sung,
Where Ussain Bolt first went out for a run,
Where despite many hardships, the people did overcome,
. 
So we gotta put down Mister Columbus’s gun,
And from the division of the many,
Embrace the love of the “One”,
.
(c) Mr Gee


An Island In The Sun

Stop And Search
.
When they stop & search you,
Do they mock your virtue,
Do they flock to hurt you,
Do you wish it weren’t true,
.
It’s the cops with smirks who,
Are hot to disturb you,
For breaking that unwritten curfew
Of  walking the streets late,
Black Boy, How dare you?
.
Cos when they stop & search Us,
They GOT to work us,
They knock & lurch us,
With rotten surplus,
.
It like we’ve got to purchase,
Pride to block the nervous,
Chills that spill when police sirens shrill
Us into a state of alertness,
Until they pass by.... whew,
What a circus,
.
Why don’t they stop & search those
Who rock their work clothes,
The White collar shirts sewn,
It plots & lurks low,
.
Boost stock from work phones,
On yachts or planes flown
Wall street has many wolves,
Yet no cops descend when they roam
.
Is it cos we ain’t got the same jobs,
Come from the same backgrounds,
Or speak with the same tones,
.
You see I try & Stop & Search for,
The feeling that there’s more,
Behind the demeaning we endure,
When the police harass the poor,
.
Some kind of healing must restore,
A greater understanding from the core,
For once we lose sight of our humanity,
It becomes feasible to go to war,
.
So one day,
I just hope & pray,
That we all may be able to say,
That they won’t EXCESSIVELY,
Stop & Search us no more
.
(c) Mr Gee









Stop And Search

A snowflake's path,
.
If I could place all life's Winter Sorrows,
As far away from my tomorrows,
To see a snowflake's path that follows,
Beyond the melting point of time,
.
I'd construct a cave of childish wonder,
And place it safe from Life's cruel thunder,
For Stormy weather has no place among the,
World of make-believe & rhyme,
.
The fondest memories of yester-year,
Comfort me with their festive cheer,
Suddenly their faces magically appear,
As my mind recounts their fate,
.
Devilish grins & innocent glances,
Raiding the fridge & taking chances,
Being forced to dance with drunken Aunties,
And this Steve McQueen still hasn't managed to escape,
.
I wish to relive those precious moments,
Overseas phone-calls sounding Golden,
Cheating at monopoly & getting told off,
Even though the banker always smiles,
.
There's much to be said of December's tonic,
As we wind down the old year's promise,
Beyond the rush of midnight shoppers,
We'll find a place where the stillness lies,
.
For survival's grace is but for the few,
And not all dreams, will they come true,
Tinsel-towns have darker hues,
And so our greatest gift is life,
.
Thus if I could replace all my Winter Sorrows,
I'd float in the sun-rays of tomorrow,
For a snowflake's time is merely borrowed,
Its path is yet to be defined.
.
(c) Mr Gee

A Snowflake's Path (Radio 4 Xmas)

Our Music (live on Radio 4)
.
If our music be just,
A simple combination of notes,
Painstakingly chosen,
To emotionally evoke,
.
Can our values be kind
Of an arrangement of thoughts,
Orchestrated into laws,
Pipes of Peace, Drums of War,
.
So to whose tune shall we dance?
Shall we make love & romance?
Do our lives compose the melodies?
Or ride the rhythms of chance?
.
But what if the quiet voice is too loud?
Does it poison the sound?
The discord caused by this chord,
Amplifies the silence of frowns,
.
So pity the song that’s unsung,
Too scared to venture past the lungs,
Whose acoustics know no audience,
Whose plectrum knows no strum,
.
Pity the voice that’s unheard,
An eternal stranger to the world,
Forever held back by the pleasant pauses,
Who act as a jailer to its words,
.
Pity the thought never travelled,
Or met with ridicule & challenge,
Embracing panoramic camera lenses,
To capture views from different angles,
.
Pity the symphony unwritten,
Never to be relished by the living,
The bridges never built,
The olive branches never given,
.
So yes indeed, our music may be just,
A simple combination of notes,
It's also a simple combination of our fears,
And a simple combination of our hopes.  
.
© Mr Gee


Our Music (live on BBC Radio 4)

The Sound of the African Drum
.
The Endless Rhythm that persists,
Into your soul & just uplifts,
It from the cold & dark abyss,
It makes you whole & is a gift,
From God whose role is to assist us,
For He knows we can't exist without,
The Sound of the African Drum.
.
It BOOMS, like a beating heart,
Heard in the womb, completes the start,
Always consumes 'til we depart,
Into our tombs, deep in the dark,
Where it exhumes us with its sharp,
Ancestral tunes heard in the park,
That's the sound of the African Drum.
.
It was once banned with reprimand on plantation fields,
Did they understand that in our hand it gave elation & zeal,
You can't plan to just withstand the interracial appeal,
The drum-pan rules all man, in all occasions they yield,
Back to our ancient fathers strumming,
So patiently real,
It's almost as if God is coming,
And His invitation is sealed,
By the sound of the African drum,
.
Can't you hear the Gospel,
Blues, Jazz, R&B?
Soul, Rap, Rock & Roll,
Started with we,
.
Who brought you Ragga, Reggae,
Salsa, Merengue,
Calypso & Disco,
Grime, Drum & Bass to Garage UK,
.
We got the Funk, the Soca,
Bossa-Nova crossed over,
But Doo-wop & Be-Bop,
Gave us the floss to Hip Hop,
.
Afrobeat, Soukous & High-Life,
Samba & Rhumba,
All number with wonder,
But let no man put asunder,
.
The truth is,
Their root is,
If you listen with astuteness,
The Beat they all loop is,
.
The Sound of the African Drum,
.
BOOM!

Sound Of African Drum - BBC Radio Notting Hill Carnival Special

I was invited to give a performance at the radio theatre alongside my fellow Radio 4 "Saturday Live" poets. Here's my ode to airline delays (introduced by Rev Richard Coles).

A Ticket to Fly (Live from BBC Radio theatre)

London's hosted the 2012 Olympics. Amidst all the celebration & the hype, I wanted to write something dedicated to Jesse Owens who won 4 Gold medals at the 1936 Berlin Olympics & defied Hitler. (performed at the BBC Radio Theatre for Radio 4)
.
.
The Running Man
.
Within the deepest of sleep,
A movement of rapid-eye catches,
A man running a long-distance heat,
Strangely representing Atlantis,
.
Yet fantasising over such Olympic Utopias,
Knowing full-well the fact is:
.
No matter what piece of this granite,
That man seeks to inhabit,
He can't escape his stealth,
So he chases wealth,
As the pain is felt when we compete for the planet,
.
As fields are turned into tracks,
And there seems to be no turning back,
From hundreds of meters & hundreds of hurdles,
The religious build steeples,
The political sweep murders....
.
...Under the rug,
As external javelins are thrown,
Alas there's no shot-put to put off that tragic shot to your dome,
Leaving no room to discuss or hurl a discus in disgust,
At the gust of atrocities that will never be shown,
.
So run my friend run,
It's time to move on,
.
Make the whole world see,
Run to tantalise the audiences eyes with your incredible speed,
Run faster than our path of incredible greed,
Plant an indelible seed,
And make us inevitably see that it's an unacceptable belief,
That a few men can run the whole planet,
.
While the rest of us?
The rest of us will never be free,
.
So run faster than Hitler,
Leave Stalin witless,
Outpace Vietnam & Iraq,
Beat Darfur down with your fitness,
.
Surpass Apartheid,
The Rwandan genocide,
Move through the Middle East & Tibet,
To a mindset beyond the Northern Ireland divide,
.
For there is a sport of lies,
That offers you a golden medal that you can despise,
So the more a man gets,
The more six-fingered his hand gets,
The more twisted his plan gets,
With missiles, ships & jets,
.
So run Jesse, run,
Escape what we've become,
And with the rise of the morning sun,
Show the world a true Olympian,
.
.
(c) Mr Gee

The running man (live from BBC radio theatre)

CH4 broadcasted the series "Top Boy" which was meant to be the UK's version of "The Wire". I decided to write a poem about some of the Top Boys that I've seen. (introduced by Eddie Nestor, broadcast 9th November 2011) 

Top Boy (the hustler's mentality)

My Fair Lady
.
So there she stood, in all her glory,
Majestic in her might,
Elegance was her story,
Elevated to indict,
.
Far removed from tribulation,
Yet connected to its trials,
But upon closer examination,
You could see the cruelty within her smile,
.
For Oh-since-long had I now watched,
And Oh-since-long had I desired,
Prayed for the day when she would stop,
And find her place right by my side,
.
For Oh-since-long was worth the fight,
And Oh-since-long was worth my life,
I couldn’t bear to be without her,
Why should I now be denied?
.
But a time would come when some would claim,
That they could take her & reshape her,
Refashion her another name,
That the miscarriages made would shame her,
.
They created statues in her honour,
In attempt to frame her as a stranger,
That my love would no longer be needed,
And the games they played would change her,
.
Now she carried the sword of vengeance,
As she held the scales of truth,
She wore a blindfold so that the pretence,
Of the imbalances were kept from view,
.
Yet she could only be just who she was,
And I could only be just who I be,
For she was my sweet fair lady Justice,
And I was her......Equality,
.
.
mr gee © 2011


My Fair Lady

A Cold wind is blowing through Europe. Nations that once held great influence are facing bankruptcy. There are demonstrations taking place around the world. What to do in times such as these? Choose wisely.

A Cold Wind (the Eurozone)

Best Friend Forever

produced by Mr Mohammed & Mr Gee

Best Friend Forever

P L A T O N I A

Motion

Good Enough

produced by Mr Mohammed & Mr Gee

Good Enough

Until Forever

produced by Mr Mohammed & Mr Gee

Until Forever

Freedom

produced by Mr Mohammed & Mr Gee

Freedom

A Drop In The Ocean

produced by Mr Mohammed & Mr Gee

A Drop In The Ocean #SaveThePlanet

Men Are From Mars

produced by Mr Mohammed & Mr Gee

Men Are From Mars

Speaking From The Heart

produced by Mr Mohammed & Mr Gee

Speaking From The Heart (feat Eliza Shaddad)

Citizen Gee (broadcast Jan 2012)
.


If my family is my nation, then how can I be a citizen? 
If my street were my nation, would its laws be written in… 
A way we can understand, so we can shake our neighbour’s hands, 
United so we can, cease to fight our fellow man, 

.


If my nation was my borough, would it’s focus be thorough? 
And how would we view others who we don’t see as brothers? 
Or should I claim my city? 
Amidst the grime and the gritty… 
Concrete streets, could I seek to find that which uplifts me? 

.


Now what about my country? Isn't that where my love lies? 
Wars have been fought in her name which historians can’t deny, 
But can competition be confined to a football field? 
Or do graveyards have to be filled with patriotic zeal? 

.


Now what about my colour? 
Does that link me to another? 
Who shares the same struggle: My sister, My brother! 
But who then belongs? And who’s confined with the others? 
Do we separate grades & shades to determine who suffers? 

.


You see we all seem to want to belong & just... 
...Focus on our differences that are strong in us, 
So I need me a group: One to identify with, see? 
So I can wave my flag high & let it fly free, 
That I can cheer my team to cheer on, because it defines me, 
Whether it’s right or it’s wrong.... it dignifies me, 

.


But my group can’t be too big & it certainly can't be too diverse, 
I want to feel I’m elite, not common and cursed! 
‘Cos my group is the best group and "No man can test” group 
If you’re North, then I’m South, if you’re East, then I’m West group! 

.


It’s difficult to accept that there's just one human race. 
That’s why we cling to our divisions & exhibit our hate, 
Maybe one day we’ll listen to the wise men who say:

"We don’t own the earth...Mother earth owns us,"

.


And Everybody
             Everybody
                   Everybody 
                         Everybody 
                               Everybody here, is on a temporary stay! 

.


(c) Mr Gee   


Citizen Gee

My lyrical difficulty with Valentines Day (Broadcast Feb 14th 2012)
.
What Words Can Fail To Say
.
If I could capture Love’s most secret potion,
Of Cupid’s arrows dipped in devotion,
To compose the sweetest poem,
Know that I’d give it all to you,
.
If I could enlist words oh-so-profound,
An exquisite mixture of precious sound,
To paint the picture of a foolish clown,
Please know that I would give it all to you,
.
But Love’s road has been so well-travelled,
And surely her riddle has been unravelled,
By ancient voices of eternal ballads,
So how then can the balance of my words ring true?
.
For are we not all but lonely strangers?
Under Valentine’s curse of hope & danger,
Owning the keys to empty chambers,
Praying to unlock the solitude,
.
I am darkness first recognising light,
I’m the thirst of blindness realising sight,
Yet I yearn for a kindness so long denied,
And no words can describe my desire for life,
.
No phrase can attempt to compose completeness,
No flowers or cards can amend my weakness,
You can paint a million hearts but what I seek is…
Far beyond the mask of such grafted sweetness,
.
So I wish you all so well on your future journeys,
Walking softly, yet treading firmly,
If my words fail, let it not concern,
For shadows can’t exist in the presence of light,
.
Yet if ONLY I could capture Love’s most secret potion,
Of Cupid’s arrows dipped in devotion,
And compose the sweetest poem,
Please know…
…That I would give it all to you.
.
.
© Mr Gee


What Words can fail to say (a failed Valentine's Poem)

Picture Perfect 
(broadcast: 29/2/12)
. 
.
Pick a perfect picture,
And I’ll show you lines that can divide,
The soft focus smoothing over 
The imperfections that we hide,
.
.
The apartheid of our souls,
One that designates our roles,
As pre-determined curtains drop,
Exposing all for show,
.
.
Post a picture perfect,
Then speak of its delights,
Speak of the harmless hidden treasures,
Speak of the small-print that denies,
.
.
That crimes can go unwritten,
Absurdly blurring fact & fiction,
This canvas frame’s no longer fitting,
And views can change in different lights,
.
.
For what else is money?
Except for paper with pictures,
Metal with inscriptions,
Upon which we base convictions,
.
.
And what else can we call prestige?
Except another person’s creed,
That stacks one man’s certain need,
Against another’s lurking greed,
.
.
And how else would you view fame?
Except for well-controlled acclaim,
Well-positioned to place with products,
And well-conditioned to play the game,
.
.
And what of those who see the illusion?
And recognise its sweet perfume,
Are they not consumed by self-delusion?
Or merely add to the confusion?
.
.
For if you pick a perfect picture,
I’ll show you lines that can divide,
A gentle focus smoothing over 
The imperfections that we hide,
.
.
The apartheid of our souls,
One that designates our roles,
For when the curtain drops…. Nothing stops,
For on must go the show,
.
.
© Mr Gee 2012


Picture perfect

The Slap

produced by Mr Mohammed & Mr Gee

The Slap

A response to the shooting of Trayvon Martin in Florida (Feb 2012). this program was aired 28 March 2012.
.
.
Neighbourhood Watch
.
.
There are those who would feast on the ignorance.
Drink of the desire,
Dine on the circumstance of what they choose to see,
.
.
Inhale the malevolence,
Absorb the propaganda,
Taste the melody of the drama.
And lick their lips accordingly,
.
.
When you see a black male,
What could you perceive?
Is it the end of all worlds,
Or the root of all trees?
.
.
A Neighbour or a President,
Or a walking disease?
Polluting all airwaves,
With violence & sleaze,
.
.
Or perhaps a businessmen or a lawyer,
On the board of trustees?
A preacher on the pulpit,
Taking a collection for P’s
.
.
Or an everyday working-man,
Rolling up his sleeves?
Or a possible gang-member,
Armed with multi-coloured sweets?
.
.
Should we blame the hair or the walk?
Or the clothes, or the swagger?
The pride in self-destruction,
That’s evidently apparent?
.
.
Blame the music,
Blame the lyrics,
Blame the “N-word”,
Blame the stare…
…Into TV’s ever-closing circuit,
That creates a scent that’s in the air.
.
.
Or was it in the heat of the night?
A feverish jungle in sight?
A shoulder without a chip?
Something doesn’t seem right.
.
.
Check the attitude of the latitude,
On how their grip remains tight,
For the complexion that’s expected,
On the news every night,
.
.
Is it some “Black Magic” or Voodoo?
That saturates all that you do?
If I can calmly get rid of KONY,
Why can’t I also remove you?
.
.
It’s like you’ve come to destroy civilisation,
And bring an end to all time,
For why else would I hate you,
Whenever I see you outside?
.
.

For there are those who would feast on the ignorance.
Drink of the desire,
Dine on the circumstance of what they choose to see,
.
.
Inhale the malevolence,
Absorb all  propaganda,
Taste the melody of the drama.
And lick their lips accordingly.
.
.(c) mr gee (broadcast 28-03-12)


Neighbourhood Watch - Justice 4 Trayvon

To the Birds  (Broadcast: April 7th 2012) 
.
Two Red Robins awoke early one morning,
Father & Son sharing a moment of calling,
In the magical hours between dew drops & dawn,
When all is calm with the world,
.
Said Son to Father: "Dad why do we sing?"
And puff up our chests & limber up our wings,
It seems to me, to be a bird is but a lowly thing,
When man is in charge of this world,
.
He builds a nest so big, that it makes love to the sky,
He wears feathers in all colours, in all shapes & sizes,
His wings are invisible, yet he flies so high,
So why should we sing in this world?
.
Said the Father to the Son: "Man indeed is strong"
He walks as proud as a peacock & has the grace of a swan,
He even goes a little cuckoo, when the weather goes wrong,
For he believes he's in charge of this world,
.
He puts a feather in his cap & tries to rule the roost,
But whenever he gets scared he feels the bump of a goose,
For we used to be dinosaurs & that's the truth,
And that's why we sing in this world.
.
(C) Mr Gee 

To the Birds

It's A Fair Cop (broadcast 11th April 2012)
.
He was taught to believe that Law & Order,
Would maintain Peace throughout the land,
Society balanced in accordance,
Everybody needs the “Master Plan”,
.
He believed crime could be abolished,
And that trials reward the honest,
And everybody deserved their day in court,
Especially if their boots were neatly polished,
.
For Justice always must prevail,
And the bad guys must always be sent to jail,
To serve at Her Majesty’s Pleasure,
Or tickle her measure by posting bail,
.
He was taught all men should be treated as equal,
And no race should be greeted as evil,
And none should be placed above the law,
For the law must embrace all the needs of its people,
.
And even though he knew the system wasn’t perfect,
He vowed best to protect & serve it,
And he understood why some would curse it,
For there were some who would pervert it,
.
For past events were viewed as cruel,
Where brutality had caused a wound,
And the community had bruised memories
Of ancient sparks & rocket fuel,
.
He recognised some truths were institutional,
But he knew some accusations were delusional,
Bad apples shouldn’t spoil the whole barrel,
But the rot?...was inexcusable,
.
Yet he knew so many officers who tried their best,
To restore the trust that had been transgressed,
And every night they risked their lives,
In the line of duty to protect,
.
But Reputation can NEVER rest,
In its quest to gain respect,
And the same people who chastise you,
Will dial “999” if there’s any unrest,
.
Yet he believed in Law & Order,
And that truth must take its stand,
And for balanced Law Enforcement,
Good Men must do the BEST they can,
.
© Mr Gee  


It's A Fair Cop

Wooden Flaws, Glass Ceilings…   (broadcast April 2012)
.
.
There was once a glorious castle,
That stood victorious way up high,
With towers made of:
Metal,
Wood,
And,
Stone,
Which rose from far beyond speculation’s eye,
.
It had many a winding staircase,
For elevation was its prize,
With ceilings made from purest glass,
Which placed a limit upon your sky,
.
Now you may think I end this sentence,
With no landmark in the present,
And that a world of make-believe & story,
Is paved with allegory & good intentions,
.
You may think that I watch the pauses between the paragraphs,
And the chapters of hesitation,
But mind the commas before the career paths,
That lead to the full-stops of resignation,
.
Now I may not exactly be neighbours with Mr Einstein,
But I live far away from Mr Stupid,
And maybe in believing that love is blind,
I’m still awaiting that kiss from cupid,
.
Yet whenever I hand in my C.V.
Where does it always seem to lead me?
Through the looking glass with Alice…
Or chasing a white rabbit that’s there to tease me?
.
Now what happens the moment AFTER the second?
When an interviewer finishes his last question,
Does the smile that greeted me at reception,
Close the door with polite rejection?
.
Some get moved with observation,
Some get faded by design,
And as for a name with a foreign orientation?
Well there’s a shaky ladder for you to climb,
.
There’s no guest list,
No V.I.P.
No taste of sacred wine,
If your name’s not down, you can’t come in,
You may as well be outside the gates… behind the line.
.
Now I was told that these ceilings confused many people,
From their cradles to their graves,
Who disbelieved the power of something that’s “see-thru”
Doors shall be shut, Desires shall fade,
.
For this castle’s massaged many an ego,
By giving offerings of Placebo,
Yet within the echoes of its hallways, 
There’s always the hint of a mystic Veto,
.
But a new book opens up new chapters,
And a stage can only uphold its actors,
For if one man’s ceiling is another man’s flaw,
With no support…
…the glass can only fracture,
.
Mr Gee ©April 2012










Wooden flaws, glass ceilings

Something New (demo)

Recorded for Saturday Live on Radio 4: the special guest was Ray Lewis (the referee at the Hillsborough disaster) who was speaking about how young some of the victims were. (so there's an abstract reference to that tragic day.)
.
Pavement Philosophy.
.
When I was a kid,
I wanted to be bionic,
Or super-powered with a cape,
Fly through the air.... supersonic,
.
Faster than a speeding ice-cream van,
Able to jump over abandoned shopping trolleys with a single leap,
And I'd never once touch the cracks in-between the concrete,
Man.... Not even Dangermouse could do that!!!
.
If only I could climb the walls like Spiderman,
With Wolverine claws inside my hand,
And to the kid that stole my BMX??
Watch me turn green:
Grrrrrrrrr...... HULK SMASH!!!
.
I guess I figured I needed a magical answer,
To deal with Life's twists,
To deal with Life's dramas,
To deal with a scoreline that's ripping my heart out,
Never walk alone when you're questioning Karma,
.
And you want me to face all this reality without Iron Man's armour?
.
See, when I was a kid,
I wanted to be Superman,
And fly faster than Concorde from all the troubles at hand,
But there were always concrete cracks wherever I'd land,
.
So If I've gotta walk on the pavement,
I gotta walk as a man,
.
.
(c) Mr Gee 2012

Pavement Philosophy (live on BBC Radio 4)

brussels Sprouts
.
I want the perfect housewife,
One with the perfect pout,
So as I slouch on my perfect couch,
I hope she cooks the perfect trout,
.
And slightly crisps the brussels Sprouts,
And does the dishes when I'm out,
And blows me kisses from the sink,
For our kitchen tiles have perfect grout,
.
I stand at the perfect height,
I aim to live the perfect life,
In nice cute little paragraphs,
With our headings neatly underlined,
.
But then I forgot, it's Valentines!
And suddenly I'm Frankenstein!
The pout becomes a snarl,
The brussels Sprouts are burnt & fried,
.
The dishes pile up to the sky,
The kisses shrivel up and die,
I start to worry about my life,
And the kitchen drawer's missing a knife!
.
Does Barack Obama share this plight?
Would he get tarred by such a slight?
Does he have to sleep in the shed next to the White House,
When he's been kicked out for the night?
.
So I want the perfect housewife,
One with the perfect pout,
So as SHE slouches on our perfect couch,
I try to cook the perfect trout,
.
And slightly crisps the brussels Sprouts,
I'll do the dishes when she's out,
And blow her kisses from the sink,
Because our kitchen tiles have perfect grout,
.
(c) Mr Gee (broadcast on BBC Radio 4)

brussels Sprouts (A Valentine's Day drama)

Make Me Smile,
.
Knock, Knock..... (who's there?)
.
A place without hope,
A place without hope, yet there's laughter in the air,
.
I said "Knock, Knock - It's the Doctor"
"And I've got the best medicine for you"
Doctor what? 
Doctor where? 
Doctor why? 
Doctor who?
.
Waiter, waiter - there's a fly in my soup.
In my eyes, 
In my mind, 
In my water,
In my food,
.
I said "Waiter, Waiter - I've been waiting for so long"
Waiting for change,
Waiting for Peace,
Waiting for the will to carry on,
.
A thirsty man walked into a bar & ordered some "Comic Relief",
Some nice jokes to wash down with all the pain & the grief,
.
A hungry man walked into a bar & ordered some.......TIME,
A moment for you to spare any thoughtful penny that you can find,
.
An angry walked into a bar & ordered a shipment of weapons,
He told me that in a World that comes Third...
THIS is what gets the job done,
.
A businessman walked into a bar,
And he was offering High-Interest loans,
He bought all the other guys drinks,
And now he owns all their homes,
.
Apparently the secret of comedy is: Timing,
Reading the crowd & delivering humour in kind,
.
Well then the secret of poverty is: Realising,
That for every well-told joke,
There's a "killer" punchline,
.
So no matter what the weather,
What the cause,
What the crisis,
.
Try & be a good sport,
And do as you've been taught,
Pause, Breathe...
And leave your audience smiling! :)
.
Mr Gee (c)



Make me smile (Comic Relief poem for BBC Radio)

Passing Strangers (The Immigrant's Song)
.
You say: I "look familiar"
No, I doubt that you've ever noticed me,
As I sweep the city streets early in the morning,
(when you're usually asleep),
.
And in the evening?
When you're yawning?
(And maybe forgotten to brush your teeth?)
I'm constantly polishing to keep the toilet seats in your office squeaky clean,
.
So obviously my face is unfamiliar to you,
For we live in worlds apart,
You won't see me begging on the corner,
Or offering to wash the windows on your car,
.
I have no drugs to sell you,
I provide no call-girls to thrill you,
And I'm quite sure that I've never threatened to:
Mug, Rob, or Kill you,
.
So is it any wonder that our paths have NEVER crossed?
You seem lost,
Questioning whether or not I ACTUALLY exist,
I inhabit the lowest positions where my face is only just allowed to fit,
.
I know I don't speak the language too good,
I know that my culture & my customs are sometimes misunderstood,
And yes, I'm easily overlooked,
Because I've never committed a crime,
.
For your tabloid articles,
Those paranoid charters,
Full of stories detailing how I'm ripping out your heart,
And have no function in your society,
For the life-of-me, it's remarkable,
.
Do you think the toilets actually clean themselves?
Or the warehouses cast a fantasy spell to magically stack their shelves?
My labour is exploited daily for next to nothing,
From fitted electrical systems,
To problems with kitchen & bathroom plumbing,
.
And yet my only dream is to see my children free from such struggling,
So I'll take all the hatred this world can give,
The experience is humbling,
.
I work in the restaurants that feed you,
The hospitals that heal you,
Cut me & I bleed too,
My feelings aren't see-through,
.
Yet you pass me every day,
With nothing left to say,
Then go home & speculate,
About how I don't assimilate,
.
I understand your frustration,
With the changing face of this nation,
I come from the place where chap labour came from,
Different continents?... it's the same song.
.
But I work to provide my keep,
And my keep provides my heat,
And the rent & the food for my family to eat,
.
But tell me....
....what do you see?
A criminal?
A wastrel?
An Immigrant?
Ungrateful?
No I'm none of the above labels except maybe a convenient scapegoat,
.
So forget that you ever saw me,
Just ignore me,
And we'll both carry on walking undaunted,
Passing as Strangers,
.
(c) Mr Gee

Passing strangers (The Immigrant's song)

Go Tell it on the Mountain 
(broadcast 06/04/13)
.
I saw the falling feathers of an angel’s wing,
And I wanted them tattooed upon my spine,
Call me a scavenger or demonic thing,
Who cares for names if I can fly?
.
Who cares for names if I can rise?
Beyond the frame of gazing eyes,
Beyond the foot of this historic mountain,
Which casts a haze upon my life,
.
You know it’s impacting how I’m living,
You know it’s exact & unforgiving,
It traps my soul within a box,
And holds a lock to my upliftment,
.
I just wanna float away so high,
I just wanna fade the colour lines,
Fade the minimum wage & slavery,
Fade the canons guns & knives,
.
That I can escape the prison time,
Escape the trips to courtroom trials,
Rewind the school exclusions,
When Daddy leaves & Mummy cries,
.
Am I wrong to want to escape this plight?
These angel wings give me insight,
To levitate my mental state,
& leave these shackles far behind,
.
But falling wings leave scattered feathers,
And I tried my best to just collect them,
But they were spread oh-so far apart,
To unite them all would take forever,
.
So I gathered just what I could,
Looked to the skies from where I stood,
That I could leave behind this mountain,
Behind this city, behind this ‘hood,
.
Behind these streets, Behind these roads,
Behind a past that leaves me cold,
I’ll fly so high that they’ll never find me,
And I’ll never go back to the days of old,
.
But as I flap & flap & flap,
There are no wings upon my back,
There is no magical elevation,
And my puppet strings are still attached,
.
I raise my eyes up to the sky,
Way beyond this mountain high,
I look to the heavens to just ask why,
This world won’t get off my back & let me fly,
.
I’m stuck at the bottom with my regrets,
With the single feather that I now possess,
One day I’ll reach that mountain-top,
But I’ll have to do it…. Step by step.
.
(c) Mr Gee 
 

Go Tell it on the Mountain (Martin Luther King tribute)

LARKIN REVISITED
.
It's kinda hard to imagine your parents.
Gambling on such a game of chance,
Drawing from deep within their communal chests,
To invest in letters of pure Romance,
.
Despite Larkin's postulations,
On what could possibly be the verse,
I still can't picture my Mum & Dad in a situation,
Like facing teenage 1st Date nerves,
.
To imagine him frantically polishing up his shoes,
Or fumbling to button up his shirt,
Or her spraying too much perfume,
And can't find a skirt to match her purse,
.
I guess it's kinda hard to imagine your parents,
Gambling on such a game of chance,
Where you were just a twinkle in their eyes,
Before a kiss, before a dance.
.
© Mr Gee


Larkin Revisited- (Parental Advisory Lyrics ;)

Poet & Radio Presenter Mr Gee: 
Presented BBC Radio 4's "Rhyme & Reason", "Bespoken Word" & 'Poetic Justice"
Starred as "the poet" for the West End run of "Into the Hoods"
Was the "poet laureate" for Russell Brand's SONY Award winning Radio Show (yes I was there during "Sachsgate")
Supported Russell Brand on the "Messiah Complex" tour (first performance poet to do a set at the O2, in front of 17,000 people!),
Had a cameo role in the film "Get Him To The Greek"
Writes current affairs poems for BBC regional radio.
.
"A charming and politically articulate street poet” - The Times 



Mr Gee poet

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