Life all around us

Welcome to Urban poems. Real life. Real words. Poetic flow.

30 April, 2006

Roots Girl

Alright, this goes out to all the positive women that have crossed my path, touched my life, or stayed for continous guidence. Starting with my one and only mum ... through to all of you...

Hear me, like I'm wrting acknowledgements on my CD cover or summen... let me get on with it before you switch off...

(Check out the artist of this picture: he's got mad skills)

Roots Girl

Roots Girl!
You know the type
Afro tight
Skin clean
Nubian Queen

Roots Girl!
A conscious daughter
Knows about the Diaspora

Roots Girl!
Has determination
A first class further education
Street wise
Community ties

Roots Girl has spiritual motivation
Solar, lunar, constellation
Respects her elders, mother, father
Her sista’s brotha’s
And her creator

Roots girl’s not into follow fashion
Roots Girl is ital, talawa
An eloquent orator

Roots Girl can hold a
With butcher, baker
Lawyer, doctor
Caucasian, Nubian,
Asian, ‘Other’

Roots Girl!
Represents deities
Mythical Queens
Oshun, Yemaya
Isis, Athena

Roots Girl!
Could easily be
You or me
Grandma, mother
Neighbour, teacher

Roots Girl!
Is in every scene
She’s where you’ve been
She’s where you’re going
She’s in your knowing

Roots Girl!
You know the type
Dashiki white
Red, Gold and Green
Nubian Queen.

‘Roots Girl’ © by Deborah, aka: UrbanPoet

Tomorrow: a nightly affirmation

I’m in a lilac crystal mood
On the brink of tomorrow
Sensing its greatness
Its wait is weightless
I can feel the fall and rise
Of the sunrise
Where my future lies
Where love and happiness
Tomorrow I will:
Eat well
Love well
Work well

Tomorrow I can already
Feel the swell
Of my cup as it runs over
With anticipation
Jubilent expectations
Of my own inspirations
To do better
Be better
Live better
Not bitter
Or through anothers limitations
Of me
Or my capabilities

Tomorrow: I rise
And rise
And rise
And smile
And shine
And rise
And only glance back
To keep a track
Of my direction
Not to regret any of my
Or any other such negations.

I smell Tomorrow
Like the sweet heavy scent
Of dewing rain
Yet my skies are clear
My future near
My spirit prepared
I’m ready for tomorrow.

‘Tomorrow: a nightly affirmation’,© by Deborah Harper, aka: UrbanPoet 23/01/05

29 April, 2006

Debt Candidate

A fool once said to me
“Embrace debt, get out of poverty!
Don’t waste time saving money
It’s just not possible, you’ll be constantly hungry”

So I told my inner voice “be still”
And took a load to clear a bill
And cos it was so easily done
I went and took another one

And when times were gettin’ kinda hard
I went and got a credit card
Low APR or interest free
Where all accessible to me
“When your balances is five grand
You get 50p back, cash in hand”
Now there’s an offer I just can’t refuse
I’ll get three cards, you just can’t lose.

Now with five debts to service
I was torn in half
Pay my personal loans
Or my credit cards
I thought, I know I’ll get
An overdraft

I asked my sister
And she asked me
“You sure you want to O.D?
Look take my advice
And let it be
It may stretch you once
But you'll be
Catching up till your ninety-three"

So I got one.
You know the drill
Hell, I had to pay my
Credit card bill
But when I applied
They had to evaluate
If I was a good
Debt Candidate

So they asked me questions
On what the OD would do
Was it for a well earned cruise?
The latest suped up PS 2?
Was it to improve my accommodation?
Or for debt

And after she took
My history
And knew all there was
To know about me
She said “Well Miss Harper
It’s all good news
You’re overdraft increase
Has been approved
It’s now gone up
By two and half thou’
Which is available
To you now.
At the touch of a button
Instant debt.
Ooohhh, I think there’s a sale on
At Nine West.

‘Debt Candidate’ © Deborah Harper 15/10/04
aka: UrbanPoet

14 April, 2006


For anyone who has ever experienced a Blue Monday... hold on to this: -

My hair is still bobbing and without weaving
My butt is still bouncing and behaving
And with the help of Wonder
My breast still got some game in
I'm still living and breathing
Still singing
Still smiling
Still Bitchin
Still whining

I'm still living in hope and scheming
Still paying bills and dreaming
Although I'm still smoking and choking
I'm still planning to pack it in
In the meantime, I'll still pack 'em in
I'm still wondering where my career is going
Still guessing when I should be knowing
Works still giving me a f*cking kicking
Still, I'll stick it out instead of jacking it in

I'm still gazing at the constellations
Still show my Creator due appreciation
Still laughing
still crying
Still giving
Still trying
Still stopping dem people from breaking my will
Still trying sometimes to just be still
Still trying not to judge
Still trying not to hold a grudge
Still letting people piss me off
But when it's over, still wish them luck
Still happy
Still scared
Still free,
Still Black
Still Woman
Still Me.

'Still' © by Deborah Harper, aka: UrbanPoet.

Black Money Black Market

Right... got to get a bit political here. Now I work in advertising and I have to say the Ethnic representation both within the industry and towards us is shabby. So I'm not holding a damn thing back...

Black Money, Black Market
It really is no wonder to me
That after 400 years of slavery
Degradation, poverty
That there's so much strength in
Black Money

We've had to work harder than
The Chinnie, White or Indian
To regain our rightful position
That it's no wonder we're worth 32 BILLION*
Pounds to the consumer market

We're a booming industry
An emerging middle-class community
Driving Z3's and Lexus jeeps
Investing heavily
In the latest technology
Wearing diamonds and gold
Dressing in Versace.
If money were water
We'd own an estuary.

Yet we get no recognition
For our loyalty and ambition
Of pumping money into Britain.
No one advertises to me
To sell me shampoos or plasma TV's
No images of me drinking Kenko coffee
Or investing wisely in an insurance policy

Why? Do I offend thee?

"Yes! Because we've had time to evaluate
And We believe you'll alienate
The White majority who populate
Rule Brutannias welfare state
So whether we include you or eliminate
You'll still spend without debate
So cheers for your Black Money mate".

Emancipated, liberated, educated
Hustler, t'ief or job related
Buy it, rent it or hire purchase
Black Money is strong on a growing
Black Market

*Source: IPA - Sept 2004


Intro: I was having a retail therapy moment yesterday, beating up the debit card at all my old favourite name-brand shops. Well it's what a girl does best. But then I remembered this poem I wrote a while back and a touch of buyers- remorse kicked in. I'm not taking anything back (hell no!), but this is my reality check. P.S. It's a spoken word poem, so go with the flow.

I used to dress
As if my finanical interests
In Ralph Lauren, Gucci or
Wouldn't be caught unawareness
Without a name in even my vest
So Yes
I was paying dear to appear
As if with money I was blessed
Meanwhile my bank pile
Was bowing under duress
And every month the bills
would give me sleepless nights
And pure stress!

But to have a compliment
About my latest
Would fill my foolish pride
With joy and self importantness
Cheap I was not
But soon that had to stop
Or else I would be sleeping
In the doorway of a shop
And it probably
Would not be
Prada or Versace

So I acknolwledged that my
Shopoholic ways may never cease
But the rate at which
I spend my Queens
Would have to be decreased
And Hell, who would know
That I traded in my 'G's
From Calvin Klein, DNKY
To generics from Benny Dees!!

And now I still get compliments
On my clothes and jewellery
But the most I spend is £2.99
Or three for £5.50.
So I let my foolish pride be still
For I know it feels no pain.
Cheap clothes on back
And savings stashed
There's no shame in my game.

'Cheap' © By Deborah, aka: UrbanPoet

13 April, 2006

Half Full

Got no appetite cos not been feeling too good
But the weightloss
Is kicking arse
U see, my cup is half full

Developed insomina and no amount of sheep wool
Can make me nod
So I started this blog
U see, it's all good.

Read on and enjoy.

By Deb, aka: UrbanPoet

'Ation' Nation

I've been checking the situation
And I've come to the conclusion
That we're living on spoon-feed information
And given just enough to avoid starvation
By our very own parlimentation
Who are ruling by pure hypocriation
While they go off and fight various other nations
Creating a state of utter confusion
'Bout dem looking for weapon of mass destruction
Meanwhile creating more taxation,
False inflation,
World Police and Globlisation
What a hell of a occupation!

And what about the dumbing down of the nation
Is this another tactic of the Blair Witch projection?
Reality TV on every freakin' station
Can't get away from the Goodies and the Hiltons
The Geeks and the Islands
The mind-numbing celeb-rification
Of has-beens reinventation
Singing and snogging to regain their position
Meanwhile my braincells are in sterilsation
Sponsored by Big Brother Cryonic Suspension
To make covert operations
A part of my normal everyday situation

Sneaking 3GSM 'always on' connections
In to my home, my car and my every transaction
How u think they know your identification
When dont pay the charge for traffic congestion?
And can track down criminals by their mobile's location.
Oyster cards are to avoid fare evasion?
Or is tap in, tap out Red Ken's companion?

Like HD TV, watching it, watching me

Well I could go on with all these comparisions
But you get the picture of my pointification
Indeed, pure frustration
Nanny state or nay, God Save the 'Ation'.

'Ation Nation' © By Deborah: aka Urbanpoet

08 April, 2006

Hospital Corners

Wednesday, feeling Ok today
Just another ordinary day
Washing up to do,
Bills to pay
Jump in the Honda
It starts Ok
Drive to get to B from A
Later I'll throw the rubbish away
Oh and send a hello text to Tae
Nothing special ever happens anyway.

I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding
I don't feel steady
Quick, get me to A & E
There's bloods and lots
And it's coming from me
Help! A doctor, a nurse

Stay over night at the hospital?
Just for observation
Nil by mouth?
But that means an operation.
Saline drips and my consent
By contractural obligation

Heat in my heart
Heavy from past tragedy
This place holds dark memories
How did this happen to me?
Hospital corners sulkily
Lure me into their false security

One general anastetic later
Two pints of blood and
No packets of crisps allowed in theatre
I retire to my sistas sofa
Just till I recover.
On Saturday I stumble over
To my house
Wednesday clothes in my
Asda bags, all hanging out.

My bed is warmer
Without hospital corners.

'Hospital Corners' © by Deborah aka: UrbanPoet

04 April, 2006

Extra Strong Sainsbury's Carrier Bag

Hey I was just wondering....

What type of person actually
Buys extra strong carrier-bags from Sainsbury's
Those bads are heavy and when they rustle
They have bass as well as treble.

To me the extra strong bag represents
An important investment
Twenty pence well spent
But when I'm at the check out packing groceries,
I'm never tempted to buy one
I just double the flimsies

Cos at that point twenty pence
Just represents
Another expense
And lack of commitment
To this shopping extravegance
That I know I can't finance.
Especially when I'm praying to the
Debit Card God
To authorise this sale and get me a better
Paying job

So although I know I would like to own and refill
An all singing, all dancing, bass and treble thumping to kill,
Heavy, remixed, extra strong carrier
From the Sainsbury's till
Although I'd like to own one...
I know I never will.

Deborah, aka:UrbanPoet

Don't Diss Me

You know when you're feeling a bit low, maybe having a bad day, and then some one comes along and instead of making you feel better and throwing u a lifeline.... they put a foot on your head? Well here's what I had to say....

I don't need you
To help me
Make me
Feel bad about
I'm a past master
At disaster
I don't need no
Who gave you
The authority
To drill me with
And to laugh at
My inabilities
Comparing me to
Her and her and him
and that and this
and you
Born free and
Happy, with my own
Love them and then
You'll love me
For me
In my entirity

By Deborah, aka:UrbanPoet

03 April, 2006

Computer Love

Computer love
how come we haven't even met
haven't even smelt your freshness
brushed your hand,
had voice recognition yet
how come I've been to bed
and haven't slept yet
can't get u up outta my head

what's next?
this poem, then a txt?
Don't worry I ain't obsessed
Won't be boiling bunny's, dread!
But do want to taste your breath
See you smile, touch your chest
And not over the damn internet!!!

This is Urban Poet in full effect
Peace! I gotta jet.

Mona Lot

Mona Lot
Jaded is my identity
Now aged thirty-three
A house...
A car...
A kiddie
No man to take care of me
But c'mon this ain't the 1950's
Got a career, earn my own damn
Up every morning at 5:30
Back to bed at 5:33
Five more minutes to unfreeze
Need to leave by 7:15
Beat the slow moving,
Knee shaking,
Come on move it
Car and tube rage boiling in me
All keep
Me in my groovidity
But think the laser's stuck
Messin' my CD up
Makin' me Mona Lot
Time to step it up

Deborah, aka: Urban Poet