Looking through a Present Tense Lens

You’re here, I feel your skin against mine,
Your tears graze the layers of my heart so thin,
I have you with me now, much as I may not understand the how,
But you could be gone tomorrow.


I want to text you,
My boss just called though,
I will come through to your house after work boo,
But you’re gone even before half-past ten.


You said you wouldn’t be long,
I waited at the seat closest to the door,
Passed out and slid to the floor,
But when I finally heard a knock,
it wasn’t you it came from,
They handed me a letter with a face sullen,
Invisible blood on their uniform.


So I speak to you here like I never want to think of you there,
I tell you how I feel because I never want to say I did not share,
I lay it all bare, because when you do leave,
I want to know that I gave you everything, down to the last pieces of me,
And I would love if you could do that too,
But no pressure; we’re only two texts in,
My third one is coming through.



Yours in the now,

Evans Mbora Campbell
Looking through a Present Tense Lens

If You Paid Any Attention

The tolls wouldn’t be so cheap,
The tolls would into your sleep creep,
And, like a thief,
Leave you empty and feeling cheap

The fealty you think you’re owed would be fleeting,
Realisations of what is real would be haunting,
All these times you felt so enchanting,
Would fade to black on the back of what’s daunting.

I guess half the time I just seem to be taunting,
Moving my lips but my jaws keep locking,
Wanting to switch but always feeling bored in…
spite of the fact that everyone is clearly absorbed, Hmmm.

I guess all that’s unnecessary really,
Who ever got rich of that attention shit silly!
I guess you think I’m off my rocker a bit, clearly,
But somehow I can still see you looking, fisi

Yours in drought and in deluge,

Evans Mbora Campbell

Body Petty

The internet,
Bombarding us with images of the perfect girl,
Breasts undisturbed, perky and easily-cupped,
Wears no dresses,
Marks on her never stretch,
Curls on her hair are infinite at worst,
and the length of that hair is indefinite at best.


I’m guilty of exalting that model,
I have fallen prey to the ads so super,
I am culpable for having let this get to me.

At times,
Being a denizen of the city,
I admittedly have partaken willingly in the farce,
Laughed at her for having a little this or too little ass that,
As a matter of fact,
Sometimes I have proactively gone ahead to beam my own insecurities,
Onto the figures of these unknown personalities.

But it is at times like these —
when everyone wants to call the other fat or flat —
That I must bow the knee and unlearn.


I’m sorry I made you feel unworthy,
Your sufficience was directly proportional to my in-
securities and puerile antics,
Your significance warrants more merit than myopic optics,
And I know this now that you’re no longer by my side standing.


Too little, too late,
And I’m currently installing AdBlock for all this click-bait,
Maybe by some odd, undeserved twist of fate,
I’ll meet you as an unlearned and in my arms, you, take
Without you feeling the need to hesitate and deliberate.


Yours in no certainty,

Evans Mbora Campbell
Body Petty

Miss Me With That Negatory

If someone gave me a chance and stopped watching,
Maybe I could just be myself and stop fretting,
But I’m always stuck wondering what’s happening,
Everyone is on my case and not off, letting,
I want to stop being the subject of all your betting,
You want to keep me in racing conditions, doping,
So you hype me up until I’m all fluff,
Then when shit finally hits the fan you call me frustrating.


If you really cared you would be scarce,
If you really shared in this passion, why are your contributions sparse?
I have racked my mind trying to find a reason behind your appearance so seasonal,
And the only valid conclusion is that you think I’m optional,
You never truly wanted to be here when it all began to crumble,
But you wanted to be around to say “I told you so!” — typical.


I don’t need your maligning,
I came here to grind and try to shine,
And if you are always trying to pull me down from behind,
Scream and shout! I intend to let you stay unseen,Tug and flout at the heartstrings you no longer hold me by,
I’ll be pulling ahead instead, whether I live on water and bread,
Or the fumes of impending success.


Evans Mbora Campbell
Miss Me With That Negatory

Occasionally Old

I sometimes miss the old days,
When people would use their eyes to see and their ears to listen,
Hearing is an impaired ability compared to the latter,
But nowadays we just like to flatter so we pretend to be keenly in session,
When we’re really tuned out and in our own mental.


I sometimes miss the old days,
Because in many ways we have lost touch with our foundations,
The music has grown into a beautiful monster,
I suppose that has always been the case though,
But now I just can’t quite get stoned high on the beats, you know?


I sometimes miss the old days,
But there are new kids on the block making sure the memories don’t fade,
There are soldiers going to war so the respect for the true remains,
There, where you look back at a past and stare,
Are the mainstays that are threatened by the new waves,
And just a little to the left,
Are their descendants trying to protect their legacy today.


I guess I’m stuck in the old days every so often,
So if you’re looking for me,
I’ll be in a loud ma-three,
Bumping Jua Cali,

Evans Mbora Campbell
Occasionally Old

A Cold Mess

All I ever really wanted was not to be wanted,
You built a dog house for me and left me there for granted,
I lived there in a state decrepit and eventually became haunted,
The worst ghosts are those from memories you can’t have annulled,
of folks that wish no good for you and come bearing bad blood
You’re better off devoid of a head so red,
Better off less stressed and steeped in discontent.


I’m confused right now and out of touch with what I feel,
But I know I’m looking out for what time will reveal,
And hoping that if you come by you know you’re not welcome here still,
Leave me be and stay gone for good, please!



Evans Mbora Campbell
A Cold Mess

Confronting Vanity

Carry me out of this dimension, I hate reality,
This new one I see receives hardly a mention yet it is the pinnacle of clarity,
I want no clairvoyance, just a chance to be myself in entirety,
Who am I if not a wanderer in the stars, stuck in the sidereal expanse,
as life rolls on without me.
I never cared much for capitalism,
Money and power have only left our souls indebted to other -isms,
If I could show you an alternative to your strife with these constructs that imprison,
Would you follow me down that path, and dance to its rhythm?


I just want us all to speak freely,
I just want to own all that makes me me,

A scrawny, embattled, open-hearted

Evans Mbora Campbell
Confronting Vanity.

Stuck in Fight Scenes

Hold the camera, I’m directing like Martin
Scorcese… ’cause if he saw us he’d say we,
Just keep out, acting
So our score should say, “See!…
You always go off then on and on you shout at me…”


I was hoping today I could delay this relay,
I hate to pass you the baton when you’ll whack me with it after all,
I know you think I’m just a sad, broken song,
But even the worst records deserve to be put on.


We fuss because we just won’t trust each other,
I want to be a truss for you but you’d rather keep me under,
Water would help right now but you’d sooner see thunder,
I could really do with your self right now, but I see another.


You think I want to live here indefinitely?
If I had a choice I would be in different circumstances, chosen definitively,
For now, you can watch me in my washed-up liveries and grin derisively,
I’ll eventually be free to deliver this vengeance from within decisively!


Yours in… take 5

Evans Mbora Campbell
Stuck in Fight Scenes



Losing Ever So Slightly

The TV is off,
You see a blackness take hold of your throat,
Hands cold as a ghost and eyes devoid of soul,
Terror wears many faces, but its most terrifying form is faceless.


I want to think I shall survive,
But so much goes into just trying to thrive while alive that I see no end but at the edge of a knife,
So I cut, deep and long into the tracks, watching as the very fuel to my fire drips out into the night,
It’s red and hot, like my anger at the people all around me that lie,
It’s thick and quick to dry, unlike my self; stretched so thin and drenched in the muck of denial.


You just want me gone, lost and forlorn for no reason,
You think I’m better off alone and torn, apart from all that I have come to love in these seasons,
I refuse to be yours and owned, but clearly I am losing as quickly as this blood from me flows,
I cannot really contemplate going on and setting things in stone, so leave me be as I fade onto Hades’ shores.


Yours with no clarity,

Evans Mbora Campbell.
Losing Ever So Slightly