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Positive Artistic Creative Energy.



Eulogy for Thomas on


Pace mural on Redchurch Street, London -  by Jamal.

A Poem by Thomas:

Let Go of the Ego
Fly like an Eagle
What do you mean we are not Equal?

Life ain't forced
Life is a river flowing on course
Diverse of course
Searching source,
Nurturing Yours is providing the water
For my garden absorb.

Can we cry, can we talk, can we try laughing
in this earth full of darkness and hierarchy




I have seen the light you've seen

and my body has been where yours has been

some part of me resides where you reside

we've swapped presences and parting -

I have seen what you have seen

become the part of you I stood beside

passing friend with green eyes

I now reside where you reside -

hello, you standing there to the left of me

you in the heart of those hearing me read

further ahead on the road we are walking

there in the shadow performing in front of me -

you in the rhythm that's always unfolding

you are a question that's always been asked

who are we now and what are we wanting

from the voices you heard, the presences there -

how do we ask the quiet you've left

what voice you recalled

whose hand you were holding?

- Jay Bernard


The Pace

It’s the eyes you initially see,

Iris piercing green light emerald beads,

His smile beams from cheek-to-cheek you must concede,

As endorphins leak, them peptides meet and pains relieved,

He told me “Life can be funny sometimes”
Oh man did I agree,
He always sent out positive vibes,
When he was nearby you would frantically try to find the feed,

With pace you would dial tweak until you,

Suc-cess-ful-ly locked into the correct freq-uen-cy,

Just a boy with a dream but looks can deceive,

Because, it wasn’t all what it seemed,

His words dreamed of being as free as a Martin Luther King speech,

He would strive to preach out far to reach all those in need of planted seeds,
But when we try to defeat that faceless beast,

We neglect the need to feed our seed and,

Progression flees and depression creeps like the dawns desert heat,
Then voice speak, there’s no relief
And some feel they have no option but to be relieved. R.I.P

- Jo Korbell


Thomas Kareem 'PACE' Crosbie

We lost you to the rhythm of the beating drum,

We lost you to a tomorrow that's never gonna come.

We lost you to the moment that we didn't grasp,

We lost you to the hope that you couldn't quite clasp.

We lost you to the darkness of your private thoughts,

We lost you to the big dreams that you searched and sought.

We lost you to the silence of the unspoken word,

We lost you to the whisper that we never quite heard.

We lost you in the hunger of your rapper's voice.

We lost you in the fierce, cold fire of your choice.

We lost you to the restlessness of traveller's feet,

We lost you at the crossroads where we always meant to meet.

We lost you to the pounding of your runners pace

We lost you in the spin, the speed, the effort of the race.

We lost you to the ancient moves of Capoeira flow.

We lost you in the hidden place we didn't find or know.

We lost you at the breath of a September dawn,

We lost you so deeply, we don't know how to mourn.

We lost you as your tender heart could bear the load no more,

We lost you on the wing as to the heavens heights you soar. 

We lost you as a friend, as a brother and a son,

We lost you to the rhythm of the beating drum.

We lost you, we lost you but we found you too,

We found you in togetherness, in this love that grew and grew.

We found you as the picture builds to fill the frame,

We find you in the Latin meaning of your name.

Peace, Pax, Pacem, Pace

We find you in the brilliance,radiating from your face.

We find you in our tender hearts, in tomorrow that will come,

We find you in the rhythm of the beating drum.

Much love Pip xxx


Thomas by Adisa

When a meteor hits Earth’s atmosphere
It looks like a shooting star,
Due to the speed at which the meteor
Is travelling, it burns and releases a glow

Moving at his own PACE
Humming his mantra
‘’Feed your soul with Time, Energy and Space’’.

An Artful Dodger smile
Plastered like a rave poster
Over his cheeky boys’ face

Thomas had a one-track mind
Seduced by a curvaceous ShureSM58 microphone
Behind the bike sheds,
He made love to a 24 track
Gave birth to a story
Older than his years

He didn’t need an amplifier
In his tribal quest for truth
He plugged straight into earth,
Searching deeper than a mother
Looking for her child beneath the rubble.

In his tribal quest for truth
He barricaded himself inside
His recording booth,
An air raid shelter
Flipped the clip from the grenade
And let loose.

Let loose a tongue
So sharp yet so sweet,
He was Chocolate cake and cerasee

Let loose a vision
So bright and so clear,
He was Dogon tribe, observing Sirius B.

Let loose the those
Shackles that tried to tame
The wordsmith with mad skills
Like his man Thierry Henry

Let loose an entrepreneur
He floated his company
On the stock exchange of love,
He was bad at Monopoly.

An even when the bombs fell
Like giant hailstones, on a tin roof
On a cold London Street,
PACE called on Robert Nesta Marley
Who posted his message faster
Than any 140 character tweet.

Oh, when the rain fall, fall, fall now
It don’t fall on one man’s housetop

He was Dr Who, a time traveller
His Capoeira was his Tardis
Transporting him from,
Angola to London, from London to Brazil.
Rocking back and forth
Under the Jee-Gah trance
Striking the Berimbau
Like clashing flints
He bought fire to many frozen hearts.

He wasn’t perfect
Like some sort of levitating sage
I mean he liked Kermit the frog
And he thought Cool Runnings was a cool movie.

But he loved this,
Music making
Tree hugging
Ketchup loving
Lyric spitter
People squeezer

Martial mover
Rundem Cheetah
Cycle groover
Nature watcher
Cereal scoffer
Loving brother
Mother protector
Like a free man
He named himself

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