All posts by Helen Ingram

About Helen Ingram

Self Published author, artist, interviewer and owner of New Art United


women-fashion-silhouettes_855051511_largeSociety 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 on 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.


A person or persons,

Should never forget their place….


Yes they do,

Children speak as if they are right,

Parents no longer able to keep discipline tight,

Always getting into a fight,

Being let out every night,

Even after last light.


Yes they do,

People not all are bad,

But some are preaching just a tad,

Acting like they own the streets like last nights drunken lad,

Thinking our system is a fad,

Trying to change the code of our lands,

Our morals pure and fair, isn’t it about time we make a stand.


Yes they do,

Our prided joy,

Of every round,

Around every inch of our counties towns,

Now empty filled with frowns,

Use to shine with passion and love like a crown,

The heart of a community funny joking clowns.


Yes they do,

As we  wouldn’t we feel so much oppression,

As the riches cleanse the cities of the working class for their latest possession,

Rights have become the latest obsession,

That helped sink us into this recession,

Ain’t it about time government gave a confession.

Push an’ Shove

‘Push an’ Shove’ is a poem that will feature in my upcoming book ‘My World’



Push an’ shove such a funny fn’ aint it,

It can drive yew up da wall,

Can get on yaaahr nerves,

Make yew go loopy aaaht ov yaaahr wits,

Let i’ still makes yaaahr Mars and Venus stand tall.


Push an’ shove yew liked i’ wiv a bi’ ov meat,

As yew drive in fer anuvver dance on da dance ‘all,

Yaahr ‘ands love ‘em curves,

As yew shake or yaahr kit,

Le’ in ‘ i’ all aaaht an sprawl.


Push an’ shove  its yew like a player’s goal ‘it,

Yaaahr ‘eart ‘as met its wishin’ call,

You wish yew can ‘ang on ter dis love an’ preserve,

Never wantin’ ter let go ov its grip,

You moan but yew know yew got i’ all.


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.


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

The one laying there in a rocked out state,
Do not you know listening to that crap will only lead to your own hell,
As least I do not lead by a misguided judgmental fate,
Booze and drugs your only loyal addiction,
At least my mind can forget and tame,
You are embarrassing old age shame.

Just skate to this fucked up wait,
Use a bewitching spell upon this nation,
People throw their best disses but still fail to integrate,
Rocking out to our fucked up creation,
Don’t you know your patronizing attitude is lame,
Making out the odd ones are to blame.

In your high heels,
Strutting around like a deluded easy slut,
Looking for your next abusing whore thrill,
Adding to your abortion rate, as the surgeon goes in for another cut,
Don’t you know sexy underwear only makes you ending up being killed,
No morals or standards to say, that you are skilled.

Making us feel demoralized as you lecture us over our sins,
Yet how you treat others says you are a liar,
Acting like the high almighty are the only ones that win,
Bestow upon us like a fire vampire,
At least I take me as me,
Not what people think I ought to be.

The fucker who is corrupting this world with your imagery and written hand,
Its due to you I don’t hold me head high,
As you walk and raise your hand like you own the land,
You just leave me thinking…only to sigh,
Your fake intellectual frown a disguise,
As your personal opinions no longer accepted and wise.

The forgotten quiet one,
Not being the performer,
Hiding shamefully alone,
In the corner,
You are probably the only one,
Who is innocent to not let the world make their beauty gone.

The ones that make this world so cruel,
Mean and filled with hatred,
Constantly needing fuel,
For its stereotypical nature to spill,
Making people want to surrender at their own will,
Categorizing making your perfect model,
Another lays dead and still.

Miss Hoodie Gangster

Miss hoodie gangsterMiss Hoodie Gangster © 2014 Helen Ingram


Miss Hoodie Gangster,

Struts around town with a grimace on her face,

Braided deadlocks sweeping down one side,

Carrying her boombox on her shoulder letting out some basse,

Her attitude raises eyebrows as she takes another glide.

Miss Hoodie Gangster,

People look upon her like she’s a messy disgrace,

Her look’s criticized as she always has obeyed,

Her time spent perfecting her lyrical saving grace,

People’s perception misapplied.

Miss Hoodie Gangster,

Decides on her moral code and applies,

Never judges or see’s divide,

The wondering chaos around her put aside,

She holds her head up high with pride.

Miss Hoodie Gangster,

She beats to her own mystery thrill ride,

Despite feeling restricted tied to a chair as she is bullied,

Working hard taking opportunities in her stride,

Nature’s cruel ways can knock her against this huge tall tide.

Miss Hoodie Gangster,

No matter what you say, her spirit never died,

Cold alone her heart beating a silent hidden sadness,

She laid in pain on that very night and cried,

Her state of mind, can’t take anymore she flips and goes into madness.

Miss Hoodie Gangster,

Now you will only see her badness,

Her echoing good surrendered and,

Traveled  into her misty foggy memory.

Round Two


This poem is part of my upcoming poetry book ‘My World’

Text copyright © 2014 Helen Ingram

‘Round Two’ By Helen Ingram


Torn shattered twisted vines,
Tortured ruptured from hands of times,
Innocent heavenly pure,
Fades to a darken dirty black,
Virgin, broken my Gods word,
Broken into, a million pieces.


Pureness put on a lease,
Crash battered like the falling walls of a mine,
Heart stabbed by evil knights sword,
Skin feels like a disgusting dirty grime,
Dignity shredded like a killing yak,
Hoping one day I’ll find a cure.


Nude ripped to be my inner core,
Wishing this pain will cease,
Sniff; take another dose of crack,
It is a lie or am I just going blind,
Echo cries unheard just surrender to a shrine,
My body crashes with a thud.


If people only knew what occurred,
Thy rather be dead and poor,
Opinions confine to combine to once again align,
The darken stripped increases,
As thy tries to make sense of my war written lines,
Gasp, can’t breathe having a panic attack.


Another round of scrap and smack,
People think what you say is absurd,
Kind innocent star lingers no more shine,
Leaves soul weary and insure,
Love code is ignored like political policies,
Feeling rubbish and undermined.


Should have seen the signs,
Tie myself in torn aged shackles,
Need to find a sanctuary, scream for release,
Everything repeats as it keeps recurring,
Mind fragmented everything is obscure,
Is this what my life was assigned?


Aligns for another undeserved wrack,
Whines as people try to reword,
Sure one day it will decrease.

‘Time’ A Poem By Helen Ingram

Time slips slowly by,

Trying to fit in random actions,

As thy sits and tries,

To predict my future times,

Creating many evolving sections,

Note taking people’s views,

Thy hopes my message,

Is clear and precise,

Abstraction is not my nature’s vice,

As thy work travels streams,

Across countless passages,

My written works viewership,

Becomes multiplied,

My poetic expression,

Takes endless time,

Constant attention,

To prevent my work slipping,

And becoming a recession.

‘Global’ A Poem By Helen Ingram


‘Global’ By Helen Ingram

Eviction of global nature,
Rotten to it’s core,
Floating, sweeping hands gliding through the grass,
Whilst running free smelling of nature’s national pride,
Shine it use to until humans became to overloaded with tonics,
That they needed somewhere to dispose,
This the land that becomes a wasteful depth of sorrow,
Where do animals go to find shelter from the cold?
Climate changing as the chemical balance comes under strike,
The attack of car emissions causes a fight,
Nature under an extreme struggle,
No oxygen to breathe not even enough to make a puddle,
Looking at nature’s friendly foes,
Scared as they tip toe along the ground that has bestowed,
Their graceful land,
Beauty nature naturals growth,
Weeps with rain as it fails to soak under this dreadful plea,
With the vast deep blue sea and clogged heavens above,
This natural killing virus has gone viral.