Worn out!

You’re wearing too much
or you’re wearing too little
Your body so cheap,
open to ridicule
Don’t matter what’s in your mind
You ain’t got a choice
Let mandem dictate
claims to be your voice

To set you free,
Drown your intellect
suffocates your face,
feigning to protect
An identity
that exists no more
renders you naked
an object deplored
Don’t pull out your breast
When babe wants to milk you
Don’t do the grotesque
Suckling at her bare chest
Don’t flaunt a nipple
Don’t be gross
Let them impose
Declare what a woman should show
smirks, nip-slip on a catwalk
news coverage, media-talk
Smeared with cake
Let him taste your body baked
Sliced under a fine knife
The showbiz ingredient
glam and prized
An object for his prying eyes
Women warmongering
In society’s dichotomy
Tearing one another down
but the battle ensues
And it just doesn’t matter
If she swims like a pro
In a burkini or bikini,
eyelids batter.
(an old exhausted worn out debate, how women should dress in the 21st century)

The Prevent Tragedy

The Prevent Tragedy
Witch hunt against the Muslim community
Police and marginalise the minority
Dissent in our homes and sanctuary
Officially coded prevent strategy
Under the guise of welfare and safety
British values upheld!? or in serious jeopardy
 Prevent? this vague paradoxical spying system
Guilty until proven innocent
Designed to foster disunity
Where crimes of the state go without impunity
A citizen accused of homophobia or misogyny
smeared as the enemy
more newsworthy!?
blamed in entirety
blasted across the satellite and TV screen
She tried to clock his name in infamy
defame to inflame muzlamic mockery
backfires! loses its currency
exploding the prevent absurdity
 Prevent? this strategy the tragedy or fallacy
down in history as the great hypocrisy
whilst the elite sit and sip the blood of her progeny
teach the child tolerance and equality
when she by the sword spreads democracy
the divide and conquer puppetry
 We only resented brutish foreign policy
Misrepresent me! Votes no, my civic duty
Freedom of speech overruled she’s radicalised
matter of fact the thinker practices empathy
Exercises her personal autonomy, unlike
the lay-man, he follows the status quo in apathy
You dare to debunk such policies
Demand transparency
Resist monopolising hegemonies
Uprising, by way of our civilised democracy
Or so it seems
one’s better off indulging in debauchery
No! never question the authority
in matters like these
Are you brainwashed? extremist? potential terrorists?
We simply want to practice our liberties:
Diffusing harmony, promoting unity
building bridges and secure communities
Not just on our doorstep, but globally
We are one-of-another, from the womb of eve
And this we will continue in extremities
whilst the flames engulf our tongues
and runs riot through our bodies.
The Protect Strategy
Kalsoum Khan
I wrote this back in October 2015 (after some deep feelings of vexation and frustrations at the govnt initiative) but tweaked it up a little today, to add to my blog. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!


She asks us whether we were horrified,

She asks it like we should apologise,

A crime with which, no decent heart would sympathise,

Scapegoated for this, one act of homicide!?


To that, we say of course we’re horrified!

Horrified, that none of it is justified,

Where soldiers die in foreign lands giving up their lives,

… For a cause that benefits none, the government lies,

She uses the media to terrorise and her false agenda popularise.


They say we sent the troops for your freedom and rights,

Masquerading their corporate gains to monopolise,

The wealth, the resources and our deluded minds.

She says his hands were bloody, he held a butchers knife,

He bruised and beheaded the soldier, took his life,

As if Baghdad had descended to london, our paradise,


She asks again, but were you horrified?

We’re horrified and terrified but certainly we’re not surprised,

That the blood on Obama’s hands, his eyes and mind, the blood drenched rest of his allies,

Have butchered so many unfortunate lives,

With strikes, and drones, a genocide,

With them, do we ever sympathise? know their names, hear their cries?


In no way are those words meant to dignify,

That heinous crime, we aren’t turning a blind eye,

It’s karma let’s not be mystified or belie,

And let our religion be stigmatised,

Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise,

Because in God we trust, it’s our pride.


Kalsoum Khan

A poem I wrote after the woolwich incident (June 2013)