Snippets of Summer

The prison of mankind is the mind
This is the only space where time exists
If I had any super power I’d make it stop
Just for this second
Just for this now
Where the moon looks luminescent
And just for this moment
When I remember that I am simply being
Consciously breathing

And though sometimes I want to break my chains
Live perfect moments permanently
How could I ever appreciate a timeless dream,
While trapped in one perfect moment
Of a reality that’s just bound to rot
I don’t want to live in a world when the sun
never rises

1 August 18

Been living this life
Like there’s endless time to bide
I don’t remember like I used to
Yesterday is out with last week’s trash

Memories of glass hold my self
And gather dust on a neglected shelf
Day in and day out
I wake up in the same body,
Ponder thoughts in the same brain
One by one my cells slowly leave me
But for all intents, all purposes
I remain the same

In this quest to be more present I’ve left
myself in grains of sand
Scattered in the past
Only to be forgotten when the tide rises again

16 Aug 18

When dusk falls, the basin empties
A lone swimmer straggles and leaves
Solitary splashes for the night’s symphony

Somewhere in the distance the big smoke roars
Winds carry in commotion
From the city of constant chaos

Here in open isolation
Souls stroll slow
Safe in the shadows
Where today ends and
Tomorrow is yet to begin

Then the symphonies stop,
As the sun starts to show his face
And the birds sing their morning salute

When dawn rises
The early worm strives
To make it through the day alive

24 Jul 18

Is it time to stretch yet?
I need to get out of this head
It’s been a while
Since I felt at home
In my own bones

I keep forgetting what I look like
Every morning in the mirror
A stranger stares back at me
Through the wormhole

It’s nice to meet you

For a drifter there is only one rule of thumb:
“Everything is temporary”
On the contrary,
I’ve been with myself from the start

Someone gets lost on their way
home from a party and ends
Up in nineteen seventy-four
Somehow,
I feel like all this has happened before

1 Sept 18

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Ali Mulaga is a collection of matter and energy that’s become more or less conscious of itself and hopes to boil down human experience into some choice words. You can probably catch her writing about vegetables.
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Published by

Wells Street Journal

The Wells Street Journal is a publication by the students of the MA in Creative Writing at the University of Westminster. It is a diverse collection of writing with London as our inspiration.