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For the rap and spoken word scene in London and all of the UK. For the poetry and the music that has made me fall for that city.
I am on my way.
Preludes to England Collection

Through Tin Alley Ways

006e25d5f93c5908e9295c648d9e7d94by Stefon Napier13 Aug 2013

Evening falls within Saint Paul's.
Streets are turning and hemming cities in
so even as I lay down beneath the quiet
remoteness that fades into a lasting distance
the discord of persistent imbalance
remains present to me as the sun does daily.

The arches rise above me as I border lines
between memories and incomplete life
the way guitar strings blend a late night
song among the listeners of a London café.

Sweet rhythms explore the pipes of an organ
until they reach the ends but their thought
does not die vanishing into the good night as
a weak spell would sober upon meeting scented
air.
Light comes as a wisp of blessing from the last
lanterns lit through tin alley ways where I may find
solitude from stillborn dreams and the weathering
of people and children by slow words of parliamentary apology.
The way itself is beset with a succession of shadows
that emerge from improvised lives and the coarse
edges of the societal fabric but there is no punctuation
that manifests itself long enough to hinder the revolution
of word after word.Let the day abdicate its throne so that night may roam.

I find that we are still deep among kings.