IBé

No Time for Roses

Whae dae pekin den can,
Tell dem sae I cumo
Ah go fen biscuit.

Circles and Round-Trips
Lost in time, looking for a piece of mine.
Every morning, the same sun —
daily stand-up, we say the same things.
All hail 5pm on Friday!

Foxtrot with bills and dreams,
knee-deep in things I don’t need.
But there’s a pace to keep
at the stoplight with
strangers and other men.

Stuck on second hand,
no time for the roses.
Crackpot in a microwave;
Mile-run, we Bolt’in’
For Kishane’s silver medal —
Such a cautionary tale.

Catch me and I’d tell you:
You either winning or losing
And man, when you’ve lost
You’d do anything to get up
Because na you go sabie
Whae dae grun drae,
water is the new champagne.

Greetings

May peace be on to you. May we meet in the middle of any divide Find common ground in our humanity. May I share my stories and Cradle yours in

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a headshot of the poet, IBe

Mixed Bag

I used to think getting old was like a tsunami It heaps on you when you reach 50 But the closer I get the more I guess It’s like a

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