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Poetry & Creative writing
A collection of some of my poetic, comedic and creative projects.
Poetry: If London Could Talk
London’s iconic skyline, comes to life
When the sun rises, but isn’t the rain rife?
Yes, in London City, it’s a great talking point,
“Will the forecast for today disappoint?”
But it’s part of the culture to predict the rain,
Even when the sun is expected, umbrellas remain
In hands and bags across the city.
When they all go up, oh, isn’t it pretty?
It’s a pity, London’s charm can sometimes be obscured,
By foggy days and drizzle but rest assured,
There’s a lot more in London for you to find:
Like a pub with a resident ghost, serving spirits of both kinds.
Do you believe in spirits? For this piece, please do.
Because wouldn’t it be funny if London could talk to you?
What would she say, with her eyes reflected
In the gleaming glass of modern skyscrapers erected,
And the River Thames flowing ever so gracefully
like the silk of her dark green gown? I’d hastily
Walk her streets, the tendrils of her hair,
Find hidden secrets in alleyways that have become public affairs.
I’d hear her laughter echo in the parks and the squares,
Attracted to her warmth, I’d listen to the mares,
And the joys and the highs and the lows she’s faced.
History breathes where landmarks are placed.
If London could talk, Trafalgar Square would declare:
My lion is more than a pigeon and people armchair!
I’ve witnessed protests, I’ve witnessed passion;
Voices raised in unity full of vibrance and compassion.
If London could talk, Tower Bridge would whisper:
I’m more than steel and stone, I’m a shifter.
I’ve raised my arms for ships to pass,
And seen monarchs and commoners show their class.
If London could talk, The Shard would sing:
Why are people spiraling?
Reach for the sky, just like me,
I’ve seen dreams take flight and hopes run free.
If London could talk, Big Ben might chime:
Throughout this charming city, I’ve kept the time
Just ask the London Eye who is always aware.
We’ve seen lovers embrace and we’ve seen the people who glare!
So if we listen, London landmarks aren’t just buildings,
They have life, they have spirit, and it’s very fitting
That they’re guardians of memories, holding stories of the past;
When we build on our history, we create impact that lasts.
When the sun rises, but isn’t the rain rife?
Yes, in London City, it’s a great talking point,
“Will the forecast for today disappoint?”
But it’s part of the culture to predict the rain,
Even when the sun is expected, umbrellas remain
In hands and bags across the city.
When they all go up, oh, isn’t it pretty?
It’s a pity, London’s charm can sometimes be obscured,
By foggy days and drizzle but rest assured,
There’s a lot more in London for you to find:
Like a pub with a resident ghost, serving spirits of both kinds.
Do you believe in spirits? For this piece, please do.
Because wouldn’t it be funny if London could talk to you?
What would she say, with her eyes reflected
In the gleaming glass of modern skyscrapers erected,
And the River Thames flowing ever so gracefully
like the silk of her dark green gown? I’d hastily
Walk her streets, the tendrils of her hair,
Find hidden secrets in alleyways that have become public affairs.
I’d hear her laughter echo in the parks and the squares,
Attracted to her warmth, I’d listen to the mares,
And the joys and the highs and the lows she’s faced.
History breathes where landmarks are placed.
If London could talk, Trafalgar Square would declare:
My lion is more than a pigeon and people armchair!
I’ve witnessed protests, I’ve witnessed passion;
Voices raised in unity full of vibrance and compassion.
If London could talk, Tower Bridge would whisper:
I’m more than steel and stone, I’m a shifter.
I’ve raised my arms for ships to pass,
And seen monarchs and commoners show their class.
If London could talk, The Shard would sing:
Why are people spiraling?
Reach for the sky, just like me,
I’ve seen dreams take flight and hopes run free.
If London could talk, Big Ben might chime:
Throughout this charming city, I’ve kept the time
Just ask the London Eye who is always aware.
We’ve seen lovers embrace and we’ve seen the people who glare!
So if we listen, London landmarks aren’t just buildings,
They have life, they have spirit, and it’s very fitting
That they’re guardians of memories, holding stories of the past;
When we build on our history, we create impact that lasts.
Poetry: TWENTY-TWENTY
TWENTY-TWENTY
New year.
New me.
Gym membership.
Fat free!
Best friend.
Travelling away.
Five years.
Please stay!
Farewell drinks.
Last gifts
Last hugs.
Last kiss.
Weeks later.
Sad news.
Drunk Driver.
Bad view.
World adventure.
Cut short.
Best friend.
Life support.
News breaks.
Back home.
Crying, tears.
Feeling alone.
Funeral farewell.
Friends reunite.
Feeling closure.
Fear, fright.
New year.
New Me.
Try again.
It’s February.
On track.
Feeling blessed :)
Progress disrupted.
Work stress.
Managing grief.
Tipsy nights.
Rapid romance.
Feeling alright.
March begins.
Holidays planned!
Virus spreads.
Trips canned.
Government says:
“You’re fine!!!”
“It’s OK.”
Trust declines.
Actually, no.
Trust remains
Non-existent
Information retained.
Global pandemic.
Now declared.
Lockdown life.
Not prepared.
Toilet roll.
Went missing.
Long queues.
Tiger King.
Goat takeovers
Quarantine Birthdays
Home workouts
Shorter workdays.
No pasta.
No rice.
Confused about
Government advice.
Stay home.
Stay alert.
Stay safe.
No concerts.
No gardens.
Yes Parks.
No meetings
After dark.
Church closures.
Deaths rise.
Government confusion.
No surprise.
Moving on.
Slogans change.
Lockdown eases.
Anxious, strange.
Black lives.
Unfairly lost.
Can’t breathe.
Some shot.
Names shared.
People protest.
Police reform?
Not yet.
Awareness raised.
People adjust.
Blissful ignorance.
Problems discussed.
Twenty Twenty.
No joke.
Looking back,
Transformation awoke.
New year.
New me.
Gym membership.
Fat free!
Best friend.
Travelling away.
Five years.
Please stay!
Farewell drinks.
Last gifts
Last hugs.
Last kiss.
Weeks later.
Sad news.
Drunk Driver.
Bad view.
World adventure.
Cut short.
Best friend.
Life support.
News breaks.
Back home.
Crying, tears.
Feeling alone.
Funeral farewell.
Friends reunite.
Feeling closure.
Fear, fright.
New year.
New Me.
Try again.
It’s February.
On track.
Feeling blessed :)
Progress disrupted.
Work stress.
Managing grief.
Tipsy nights.
Rapid romance.
Feeling alright.
March begins.
Holidays planned!
Virus spreads.
Trips canned.
Government says:
“You’re fine!!!”
“It’s OK.”
Trust declines.
Actually, no.
Trust remains
Non-existent
Information retained.
Global pandemic.
Now declared.
Lockdown life.
Not prepared.
Toilet roll.
Went missing.
Long queues.
Tiger King.
Goat takeovers
Quarantine Birthdays
Home workouts
Shorter workdays.
No pasta.
No rice.
Confused about
Government advice.
Stay home.
Stay alert.
Stay safe.
No concerts.
No gardens.
Yes Parks.
No meetings
After dark.
Church closures.
Deaths rise.
Government confusion.
No surprise.
Moving on.
Slogans change.
Lockdown eases.
Anxious, strange.
Black lives.
Unfairly lost.
Can’t breathe.
Some shot.
Names shared.
People protest.
Police reform?
Not yet.
Awareness raised.
People adjust.
Blissful ignorance.
Problems discussed.
Twenty Twenty.
No joke.
Looking back,
Transformation awoke.
Award winning Poetry Entry: 2020 Hope (A reversal poem)
Published: Kensington & Chelsea Art Week
2020 will be looked at as one big joke!
And I should not be of the opinion that
We’re receptive to change; we’re more alert, more woke.
We’re fixing the system; educating the ignorant.
That simply would not be true to say.
We are forever stuck in these terrifying times.
And I cannot bring myself to state:
2020 is the year for significant growth!
Now read this poem upwards for a more hopeful view on 2020…
2020 will be looked at as one big joke!
And I should not be of the opinion that
We’re receptive to change; we’re more alert, more woke.
We’re fixing the system; educating the ignorant.
That simply would not be true to say.
We are forever stuck in these terrifying times.
And I cannot bring myself to state:
2020 is the year for significant growth!
Now read this poem upwards for a more hopeful view on 2020…
Poetry: Summertime Quarantine (Reverse Poem)
Publication: @poetryandshaah
Summertime is scrapped
I will struggle to find another person to state that
Summer is the best season to create a stroke of serendipity Because reminiscing over the good old days
The summer season has never stood out as special
And it would be so slow-witted of me to say
We can make summertime great again
So I will stay assured in my sentence:
The long summer days are an absolute waste of time With the ongoing lockdown, I do not believe that
Summertime at home will be stellar
Since at the end of the day
The yellow sunrays are full of sadness
And I will never be convinced that
The taste of ice cold drinks and fresh summer fruits are a bonus No! At the end of the day when the sun goes down, I’ll just think: Should we just cancel summer 2020?
For the answer, read it from bottom to top.
Summertime is scrapped
I will struggle to find another person to state that
Summer is the best season to create a stroke of serendipity Because reminiscing over the good old days
The summer season has never stood out as special
And it would be so slow-witted of me to say
We can make summertime great again
So I will stay assured in my sentence:
The long summer days are an absolute waste of time With the ongoing lockdown, I do not believe that
Summertime at home will be stellar
Since at the end of the day
The yellow sunrays are full of sadness
And I will never be convinced that
The taste of ice cold drinks and fresh summer fruits are a bonus No! At the end of the day when the sun goes down, I’ll just think: Should we just cancel summer 2020?
For the answer, read it from bottom to top.
Poetry: God, may I have a penny please?
A funny fictional tale:
One day a man spoke to God
And what he asked Him was quite odd:
“How long is a million years to you?”
“It’s about a minute, I’m sure that’s true.”
“Well how much is a million pounds?”
“To me it’s a penny, that’s what I’ve found.”
The man was filled with absolute glee,
So he asked one more question happily:
“God, may I have a penny please?”
“Wait a minute.” God replied with ease.
One day a man spoke to God
And what he asked Him was quite odd:
“How long is a million years to you?”
“It’s about a minute, I’m sure that’s true.”
“Well how much is a million pounds?”
“To me it’s a penny, that’s what I’ve found.”
The man was filled with absolute glee,
So he asked one more question happily:
“God, may I have a penny please?”
“Wait a minute.” God replied with ease.
WINNING Gen AI Poetry Accenture Competition
Poem: #BLACKLIGHT
In the realm where shadows dance, a tapestry unfolds,
A narrative of strength and grace, in hues of black and gold.
Beneath the black light's gentle glow, stories intertwine,
A symphony of voices rising, like stars that brightly shine.
In the corridors of progress, where challenges may loom,
Resilience blooms like flowers, breaking through the gloom.
The workplace, a canvas, painted with diversity,
A mosaic of talents, each shining brilliantly.
Through trials and triumphs, like rivers that never cease,
The black experience weaves a tapestry of peace.
In the boardrooms of ambition, where dreams take flight,
#BLACKLIGHT illuminates the path, dispelling darkest night.
Ancestors whisper wisdom, a legacy passed down,
Roots anchored deep in history, wearing a regal crown.
From the cotton fields to corner offices high,
The journey's marked by courage, reaching for the sky.
Celebrate the triumphs, acknowledge the strife,
In the narrative of blackness, find the heartbeat of life.
For every glass ceiling shattered, a victory is won,
In the symphony of progress, let inclusion be the drum.
Black history month, a spotlight on the stage,
A tale of resilience, echoing through age to age.
#BLACKLIGHT beams with pride, a beacon strong and true,
Guiding us through history, where dreams and deeds accrue.
So, let the poem echo, like a melody refined,
A celebration of the black experience, a tapestry entwined.
In the workplace's dance, where diversity takes flight,
Underneath the #BLACKLIGHT, let's champion the light.
In the realm where shadows dance, a tapestry unfolds,
A narrative of strength and grace, in hues of black and gold.
Beneath the black light's gentle glow, stories intertwine,
A symphony of voices rising, like stars that brightly shine.
In the corridors of progress, where challenges may loom,
Resilience blooms like flowers, breaking through the gloom.
The workplace, a canvas, painted with diversity,
A mosaic of talents, each shining brilliantly.
Through trials and triumphs, like rivers that never cease,
The black experience weaves a tapestry of peace.
In the boardrooms of ambition, where dreams take flight,
#BLACKLIGHT illuminates the path, dispelling darkest night.
Ancestors whisper wisdom, a legacy passed down,
Roots anchored deep in history, wearing a regal crown.
From the cotton fields to corner offices high,
The journey's marked by courage, reaching for the sky.
Celebrate the triumphs, acknowledge the strife,
In the narrative of blackness, find the heartbeat of life.
For every glass ceiling shattered, a victory is won,
In the symphony of progress, let inclusion be the drum.
Black history month, a spotlight on the stage,
A tale of resilience, echoing through age to age.
#BLACKLIGHT beams with pride, a beacon strong and true,
Guiding us through history, where dreams and deeds accrue.
So, let the poem echo, like a melody refined,
A celebration of the black experience, a tapestry entwined.
In the workplace's dance, where diversity takes flight,
Underneath the #BLACKLIGHT, let's champion the light.
Poetry: Comission for a 150th Church Anniversary
Happy Anniversary [Church name] Church!
May God bless you all!
This church has overcome A LOT
But always manages to stand tall.
Not just figuratively, but literally,
Did you hear what happened during the war.
The building was damaged by bombings,
It was shaken to its core!
This church has sat on this road
Since the 1860’s
It’s had a few refurbishments
but always stayed in this city.
It was rebuilt after World War 2,
and who can forget the million pound makeover
That took place from 2009
Leading to a new location changeover.
But what has always remained
Is the love we have for our community
The love we have for each other as a church Has grown and blossomed beautifully.
...
May God bless you all!
This church has overcome A LOT
But always manages to stand tall.
Not just figuratively, but literally,
Did you hear what happened during the war.
The building was damaged by bombings,
It was shaken to its core!
This church has sat on this road
Since the 1860’s
It’s had a few refurbishments
but always stayed in this city.
It was rebuilt after World War 2,
and who can forget the million pound makeover
That took place from 2009
Leading to a new location changeover.
But what has always remained
Is the love we have for our community
The love we have for each other as a church Has grown and blossomed beautifully.
...
Poetry: Is giving up all hope the best way to go? (Reverse Poem)
There’s nothing at all that I can do.
And don’t you try to tell me that
We can stand up to racism; we can pull through!
Looking at how some people act today,
I’m too small to make an impact, I swear
It would be wrong of me to conclude,
Black people are also owed a duty of care.
I will continue to repeat out loud:
These protests will not make a change.
And I am tired of being told,
We are all human beings; we are all the same.
When all is said and done,
Staying neutral is the best way to stand
I simply cannot assure myself that
Speaking up is power even if I don’t fully understand
No! When push comes to shove, I’ll reckon,
Is giving up all hope the best way to go?
For the answer, read from bottom to top.
And don’t you try to tell me that
We can stand up to racism; we can pull through!
Looking at how some people act today,
I’m too small to make an impact, I swear
It would be wrong of me to conclude,
Black people are also owed a duty of care.
I will continue to repeat out loud:
These protests will not make a change.
And I am tired of being told,
We are all human beings; we are all the same.
When all is said and done,
Staying neutral is the best way to stand
I simply cannot assure myself that
Speaking up is power even if I don’t fully understand
No! When push comes to shove, I’ll reckon,
Is giving up all hope the best way to go?
For the answer, read from bottom to top.
Script: Skeptics & Optimists
[Spotlight on a stage set up to look like a podcast studio. LOLA stands at center stage, wearing a bright, cheerful outfit and a big smile on her face. CECE, her best friend, enters from stage right, looking slightly disheveled.]
LOLA:
[Excitedly] Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to "Life Lessons with Lola" - the podcast to make you feel good no matter what life throws at you! [Pauses, then turns to Cece] And special guest appearance by the one and only, my best friend, Cece!
[Audience applause as CECE waves sheepishly]
CECE:
[Chuckling] Thanks for having me, Lola! I'm excited to be here... I think.
[Audience laughter]
LOLA:
[Grinning] Oh, come on, Cece! Where's that trademark enthusiasm of yours?
CECE:
[Rolling her eyes playfully] Oh, you know me, Lola. Always the skeptic.
LOLA:
[Putting an arm around Cece] Well, lucky for you, you've got the ultimate life coach AND grief counselor right here! I'll have you feeling like a ray of sunshine in no time and that's not just the optimist in me, that's just what I'm all about.
[Audience chuckles]
CECE:
[Teasing] Is that so, Lola? Last I checked, you couldn't even decide what to order for lunch without consulting your horoscope.
[Audience laughter]
LOLA:
[Taking mock offense] Hey now, I'll have you know that horoscopes are a legitimate form of guidance!
CECE:
[Grinning] Oh, I'm sure they are, Lola. Just like that time you told me to "embrace change" while you cried over getting braids.
[Audience laughter]
LOLA:
[Laughing] Touché, Cece! But in my defense, braids are a big commitment!
CECE:
[Smirking] And yet, you're perfectly fine telling everyone else to take risks and step out of their comfort zones.
[Audience chuckles]
LOLA:
[Takes a moment, then grins] Touche, indeed! But you know what they say, Lola: "Those who can't do, teach!"
[Audience laughter and applause]
CECE:
[Shaking her head] Ah, Sarah, you always know how to spin things in your favor.
LOLA:
[Smiling] Well, what can I say? It's all part of the job!
[Audience laughter]
CECE:
[Chuckling] Well, Lola, I'll hand it to you. For someone who can't seem to take her own advice to feel good, you sure know how to make us all feel better.
LOLA:
[Grinning] Why... thank you, Cece! High praise coming from the skeptic herself.
CECE:
[Laughs] Hey, even us skeptics need a little positivity now and then.
[Audience chuckles and applause]
LOLA:
[Smiling] That's what I'm here for, Cece. To spread a little laughter, a little wisdom, and a whole lot of love!
[They share a warm but uneasy smile as the audience applauds]
LOLA:
Wait, stop recording. What are you doing Cece? Why are you ruining this for me?
[End of scene]
...
LOLA:
[Excitedly] Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to "Life Lessons with Lola" - the podcast to make you feel good no matter what life throws at you! [Pauses, then turns to Cece] And special guest appearance by the one and only, my best friend, Cece!
[Audience applause as CECE waves sheepishly]
CECE:
[Chuckling] Thanks for having me, Lola! I'm excited to be here... I think.
[Audience laughter]
LOLA:
[Grinning] Oh, come on, Cece! Where's that trademark enthusiasm of yours?
CECE:
[Rolling her eyes playfully] Oh, you know me, Lola. Always the skeptic.
LOLA:
[Putting an arm around Cece] Well, lucky for you, you've got the ultimate life coach AND grief counselor right here! I'll have you feeling like a ray of sunshine in no time and that's not just the optimist in me, that's just what I'm all about.
[Audience chuckles]
CECE:
[Teasing] Is that so, Lola? Last I checked, you couldn't even decide what to order for lunch without consulting your horoscope.
[Audience laughter]
LOLA:
[Taking mock offense] Hey now, I'll have you know that horoscopes are a legitimate form of guidance!
CECE:
[Grinning] Oh, I'm sure they are, Lola. Just like that time you told me to "embrace change" while you cried over getting braids.
[Audience laughter]
LOLA:
[Laughing] Touché, Cece! But in my defense, braids are a big commitment!
CECE:
[Smirking] And yet, you're perfectly fine telling everyone else to take risks and step out of their comfort zones.
[Audience chuckles]
LOLA:
[Takes a moment, then grins] Touche, indeed! But you know what they say, Lola: "Those who can't do, teach!"
[Audience laughter and applause]
CECE:
[Shaking her head] Ah, Sarah, you always know how to spin things in your favor.
LOLA:
[Smiling] Well, what can I say? It's all part of the job!
[Audience laughter]
CECE:
[Chuckling] Well, Lola, I'll hand it to you. For someone who can't seem to take her own advice to feel good, you sure know how to make us all feel better.
LOLA:
[Grinning] Why... thank you, Cece! High praise coming from the skeptic herself.
CECE:
[Laughs] Hey, even us skeptics need a little positivity now and then.
[Audience chuckles and applause]
LOLA:
[Smiling] That's what I'm here for, Cece. To spread a little laughter, a little wisdom, and a whole lot of love!
[They share a warm but uneasy smile as the audience applauds]
LOLA:
Wait, stop recording. What are you doing Cece? Why are you ruining this for me?
[End of scene]
...
Short Story: Justice is Tangled
Chapter One: The Escape
The desert stretched out before me, a vast expanse of golden sand under the blazing sun. Behind me, the city loomed like a distant memory, a place of shadows and secrets I was desperate to leave behind. As I pressed my foot against the accelerator, the roar of the engine drowned out the whispers of doubt that plagued my mind.
I'm Alex. Or at least, that's the name I go by now. Names are like masks, easily discarded and replaced when the need arises. It's been years since I've answered to my real name, the one that belonged to the person I used to be before everything fell apart.
I used to be a criminal defense lawyer, one of the best in the business. I defended murderers, thieves, and con artists, spinning lies and half-truths to keep them out of prison. Some called me a hero, others saw me as nothing more than a mercenary of the law. But deep down, I knew the truth—I was a predator, preying on the weaknesses of the system to get what I wanted.
It all came crashing down the day I lost the one case I thought was foolproof. My client, a wealthy businessman accused of embezzlement, was found guilty despite my best efforts. In a fit of rage and desperation, he pinned the blame on me, accusing me of tampering with evidence and sabotaging his defense.
The fallout was swift and brutal. I was disbarred, stripped of my license to practice law, and left with nothing but my shattered reputation and a burning desire for revenge. So I did what any cornered animal would do—I ran.
Now, as I hurtle down the empty highway, I can't help but reflect on the events that led me here. Was I really the victim of a cruel twist of fate, or was I the architect of my own downfall? The lines between right and wrong blur in the harsh desert sun, and I'm left grappling with the truth of who I am—a question that may never have a clear answer.
But one thing is certain: I won't stop until I've found the redemption I seek, even if it means tearing down everything in my path. The road stretches out before me like a promise of freedom, and I'll be damned if I let anyone stand in my way...
The desert stretched out before me, a vast expanse of golden sand under the blazing sun. Behind me, the city loomed like a distant memory, a place of shadows and secrets I was desperate to leave behind. As I pressed my foot against the accelerator, the roar of the engine drowned out the whispers of doubt that plagued my mind.
I'm Alex. Or at least, that's the name I go by now. Names are like masks, easily discarded and replaced when the need arises. It's been years since I've answered to my real name, the one that belonged to the person I used to be before everything fell apart.
I used to be a criminal defense lawyer, one of the best in the business. I defended murderers, thieves, and con artists, spinning lies and half-truths to keep them out of prison. Some called me a hero, others saw me as nothing more than a mercenary of the law. But deep down, I knew the truth—I was a predator, preying on the weaknesses of the system to get what I wanted.
It all came crashing down the day I lost the one case I thought was foolproof. My client, a wealthy businessman accused of embezzlement, was found guilty despite my best efforts. In a fit of rage and desperation, he pinned the blame on me, accusing me of tampering with evidence and sabotaging his defense.
The fallout was swift and brutal. I was disbarred, stripped of my license to practice law, and left with nothing but my shattered reputation and a burning desire for revenge. So I did what any cornered animal would do—I ran.
Now, as I hurtle down the empty highway, I can't help but reflect on the events that led me here. Was I really the victim of a cruel twist of fate, or was I the architect of my own downfall? The lines between right and wrong blur in the harsh desert sun, and I'm left grappling with the truth of who I am—a question that may never have a clear answer.
But one thing is certain: I won't stop until I've found the redemption I seek, even if it means tearing down everything in my path. The road stretches out before me like a promise of freedom, and I'll be damned if I let anyone stand in my way...
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