poems

Uni Pack

I usually don’t give much context or explanation to my poems, but for the next few I thought I would. The following 5 poems are all written from different points during my journey through university, and are based on how I felt at the time. In my other pieces I often slip between perspectives and voices, but all of these except ‘An Ode to Uni Life’ are from my own. Enjoy. uploaded: 21/02/21

1st Year/ From Time

Remember our talk on the Quays side of the bridge?
Man I felt like we had it all planned out, I guess I fucked up the vision.
Learning the true consequences of my childish decisions,
When you find out why I ain’t fix it, I hope you don’t see me different.
It seems like you don’t want this sitch anymore,
Oh, you only hitting my line when you high, horny or bored? Word?
Hope you find the qualities you were looking for before,
No need for settling anymore;
I see you back with old boy, huh?

Survivor’s Guilt

Bro, you knew me when the kid had waves,
Or even further back than that,
When I was getting level 1s all around
with the sideburns, and without a fade.

But now every time I come home I feel different.

Feels like I’m forcing the north talk; spending all my days in the east.
The slang not the only thing that’s changed,
Now it’s only there that I feel at peace.

The ends make me feel super anxious.
It’s a different feeling living in the thick of the shit,
In contrast to getting news of another madness.

In the last month, 2 kids were m’d on either side of my road,
Since then, my mum hugs me tighter every time I come home.

Plus it feels like I’m stuck between two versions of myself.
The one that’s excelling in his classes,
But socially, doubting himself.

The one that’s writing poems about his mum,
But won’t call her.
The one thanking God in every other snap,
But won’t visit the alter.

The one that wants his boys to come see him in uni,
But won’t send the invite.
The one whose mental is deteriorating,
But still forcing giving advise.

Miss when we were playing Icy Towers on the library computers.
Miss going gym, talking about girls, and which one we thought was cuter.
Fam I miss having time, and not having deadlines that remind me when it goes.
But that’s enough about me my nigga, what you been saying my bro?

Hey

Let’s be honest,
You hated here.

You’re just mad that I hated it too.

Clapping for the Wrong Reasons

Cinderella traded in her glass slippers for sliders, to walk around my uni accom room,
Thinking this might’ve lasted longer if I wasn’t in my unserious stage
and didn’t rush into it so soon.
I watch her get dressed, and thoughts circulate in my mind about women’s plight,
And how they aren’t protected as they navigate through life.

Little girls are still getting their genitalia mutilated,
because of generations that stayed mute for the sake of traditions.
That’s whole cultures consumed by ignorance,
Same way ideals are birthed from conversations, travel through villages,
and are now breeding on university campuses.

Shackles slide off the walls that keep my thoughts imprisoned,
Just like her foot slides out of my sliders, and into her Ugg boots.
Despite her protests, I decide to be one eighth of the man my future men should want to be.
It’s dark outside, I put my jacket on
And walk her home.

An Ode to the Uni Life

This is an ode to the uni life,
Shout out to all the fuck niggas,
Shout out to all the uni wives.

You’ve had spagbol more times than you can count,
Mac and cheese a delicacy that you’ve never turned down.

Girl groups made in the first week of uni
break up like second year relationships,
Your first year is tryna balance the thin line
of being too public or private with your situationships.

Keep in mind it’s gonna go left
and we’re all gonna know.
Sis, you picked the wrong guy in the group,
now you’re written off from dealing with his bros.

From pros and cons of being attracted,
to sitting on the edge of his mattress.
Fast forward 2 months from now,
you guys don’t speak, and isn’t that just tragic?

Burning bridges? Where’s the match sticks?
Suddenly nobody wants smoke?
You sent indirects on snapchat bigman,
don’t now say you’re not involved.

It’s kicking off outside a night club.
Them man are scrapping again?
Either back your boy or he’s looking at you fugazy,
and he’s cutting you off as a friend.

Your lectures? You don’t turn up.
But for every house motive? You turn up.
It was her who made that exposing page?
Yeah bro, she was doing it off her burner.

Your retail job, uni work and social life have no balance
and it’s showing on your skin.
The edges of your hairline are thinning my nigga,
You just can’t catch a win.

And cheer up ladies,
So what if he’s in third year
and all the girls in the year above have written him off as trash?
They don’t know him like you know him,
they’re just jealous he’s not their man.

Well, he’s not quite yours either,
And you know, you’ve agreed to keep it ‘casual’ and to ‘see other people.’
But he’s chopping other girls, and gets pressed when you get moved to,
How is that relationship equal?

And to all the perverts, I’m only addressing you because you do exist,
But you really don’t deserve a verse.
I hope you seek repentance and learn from your ways,
Or for brutal reasons, end up in a hearse.

Moving on to the lecturers with their micro-aggressions
and pretences of ‘I’m not racist, buuut…’
You wait right there,
I’m emailing the head of department now,
your days in this institution are up!

But they email me back,
and say they’re setting up a… a group consultation?
And you’re only made to apologise
‘IF’ you made me feel offended?

Suddenly everyone in the module group chat has gone pim,
And they don’t want to back your case.
These are the same man that wake up for 9 am lectures to sit confused in silence,
But hey, I’m not judging;
It’s your 27K.

I’ve been your humble assistant
through this little guide,
Let’s cheers with a glass of echo falls, pink moscato, or barefoot,
Over an ode to the uni life.