Category Archives: ‘My World’


Helen Ingram


Society says I should be a certain way,

A certain type in order to stay,

How I am and not to change,

As this attitude is all the rage,

Looking around a media obsessed,

Society that is totally fixed of being the best,

This technology is it meant to make us feel blessed,

As we put our bodies under more stress,

Polite old school manners scrapped as modern slang expressions take order,

No wonder most of us claim to have a disorder,

If society doesn’t accept me as yesterday,

Today nor tomorrow so my soul just weeps and has no hooray.

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Be’er van us

Walkin’ around wiv yaaahr black suits an’ briefcases,
Tie up yaaahr black shoelaces,
No wonder nobody fnks yew are useless.

Thee all fnk yew are be’er van us,
Struttin’ around like yaaahr own da town,
Even thuff yew know no cockney language,
To class yew as a proper true Londoner,
You fnk yew just need a ‘igh end job,
Wif a good wage.

Thee all fnk yew are be’er van us,
Run around wiv da rich class elite,
Let i’ was workin’ class geezers,
What made London what i’ is,
It’s aaahr accen’ what people associate,
Wiv London.

Thee all fnk yew are be’er van us,
Which due ter yew people now despise,
All we are da ones ter blame,
For da Norf not bein’ able ter rise,
But yew just ‘ide.


This is poem that will feature in ‘My World’

Text copyright © Helen Ingram 2014

Image internet

Distan’ vacan’ memories,

Fallen in’er da elite masses,

As old tradishuns fade an’ die,

Like i’ was any surprise.

Feelin’ like a victim,

In yaaahr own clothed disguise,

Unable ter seek,

What yaaahr parents worked for.

You can only ‘ope,

And wonder deese streets,

In seach ov aaahr political freedom,

Our moufs restricted,

Pride, communi’y ties,

Distan’ forgotten,

As technology now supplies.

As yew walk,

You feel like bangers and mash,

Shop front, porno mag, awer geek,

Whatever yaaahr look.

Bein’ cockney just means,

You are da one,

Who contributed,

To da glory fame.


A poem that will feature in my upcoming poetry book ‘My World’

Text copyright © Helen Ingram 2014


Allure me to your eternal flame,

My roar no longer can tame,

Strip me down right down to the bone,

Kiss my soft trembling lips,

As thee raises thy above thees throne,

Thy heart starts to skip.



You know the motions feel the same,

Ride me as fast as the underground train,

As I bite my lip as you make thy groan,

Tie me to your shrine and get out the whip,

As thee gently strokes my hipbone,

We sail like the motion of seawater under a ship.



Nobody can put words or name,

Our unquestionable dirty shame,

Our hearts no longer feel alone,

As he teases me so and goes in for another slip,

As we reach our climax groan,

Moist, as thee puts my ticker on a trip.



My lover always well equipped,

As you write our own seductive fairytale script.