Moonlight

I have been waking in the dead of night,

calling out names I can’t make out.

Do I know them?

…Do they know me?

 

I have been coughing out honesty,

quick, harsh bursts of anxious ramblings;

hard to process.

Harder to swallow.

 

They’ve been growing for a while now,

pushing on my throat,

I gasp and I gasp and I gasp but tonight

they will not let me breathe.

 

Maybe I’ve spent too long thinking,

they say at nighttime things seem worse,

that the moon, bright beacon,

casts light on heavy truths.

 

 

I have been fighting with my conscience –

intent on showing me who’s the bigger man.

In sunlight it will all seem so weightless,

I’m growing impatient for dawn.

 

-A.Webb (first draft)

Hey Fat Roland! S01E02

 

I was in an episode of Hey Fat Roland!, a new podcast by Manchester spoken-word legend and all around funny-man Fat Roland! It has absolutely outraged Nicholas Royle, Man-Booker prize longlisted Wyl Menmuir, host of VerboseMCR Sarah-Clare Conlon and me!

I get stuck in a dark pit of despair about teachers that I promise doesn’t actually represent my feelings towards teachers (teachers are great!). If you like what you’re hearing check all of the people interviewed out and go along to Fat Roland’s incredible spoken word night, Bad Language! A monthly night at The Castle Hotel, Oldham Street, Manchester.

Click here for the podcast, share it and let Fats know what you think!

I won’t say anything.

So what are you going to say at my funeral, now that you’ve killed me?‘ – Warsan Shire
As you stand at the front,
leading the mourning,
do you feel guilt climb up the stairs?
When you start your speech
take in their faces;
my family, your jury.

Now sweetie,
when you say sorry,
can you taste me on your tongue?
Do you swallow me down,
bitter, only to
wake with me in your ear?


You thought this was my funeral?
It is your hearing.
My body, the witness,
to crimes you hid inside me
Have you made your mother
proud yet?

I hope you have learned,
regret is a debt collector,
you are over due.
It will come into your house,
sit at your table,
feast on you.

Look it in the eyes,
face up to it.
‘You may have beaten him’
it’ll say.
‘I can promise you
I won’t be so easy’

-Alex W. (Final first draft for NaPoWriMo 30/30)

Status Update.

I am far, far more ignorant
than I’d really let you believe.
I nod my head,
solely instinct,
just to fit in.
I’ve trained myself to share updates,
raging about our country’s state
‘it’s 2016 people!’
screaming at screens,
backlit-brains burnt
out. Feast on trends.
I am a social justice man,
care about things, issues, people.
Ask me to name them?
Sorry, that’s not my department
I only deal in keyboards,
don’t rate that activism stuff.

-Alex W. (First draft for NaPoWriMo 16/30)