Tag Archives: conflict

What do you know?

What do you know about life?

roaming in the streets with a bag of foam E coloured, banana sweets, a flat cap to accompany your flat ale.

My mind can’t take the stairs to your psychopathic fuelled attic.

Try know about life.

I ask myself why.

Got plenty worries to wait on.

there’s nothing but your conditions dictating every one of our conversations.

I’m lost-

feel dead. rehearsing what to say is futile , when face to face , with your condescending glare.

Whispers-hard of hearing , harder to crytallize a picture of a time you were ever sweet

I keep on overthinking.

I’ve had enough.

I’ve had enough.

Yet, I still bloody cared

for I know not what.

For a sign of a heart that was ever moulded into a moment so fair.

Make my amendments with the one who is the true enemy.

I nearly fell for the bastardization of the one with a tumorous relation.

I ‘m done over thinking.

I thought I was wrong,

but then I look up and see it’s you on the side of the serpents infantile tongue.

What do you know bout anything but the base life?

African synthesisers — backdrop safari park- full of savage humans.

Ooh wee-what is this shit?

every time we meet he wants to get an oo wee

Haibo,voetsek! Hamba

I want you feel what I feel tonight.

feel scared of this daughter of mama Africa –

hamba.

my body will be dancing!

feet stilettos connecting with your underbelly

weak spots identified for a finale.

macabre

macabre

-I don’t like your style at all.

Seen more compassion from wild monkeys beaten to perform.

What do you know about life?

I’m the one who is always so sorry-I’m left

Sipping up more stupid flavours itty bitty

who are you ?

ask yourself in a clean mirror -are you satisfied with what you see?

you speak about pain and suffering yet understand nothing about another’s fight.

I’m so strong-where did I get it so wrong?

Im not sorry — you deserve a room date with perverts in sodamy.

what do you know about human emotion?

Here we go

-I’m done trying to figure out your distilled mind.

I’m lost

I’m scared-damn right, you hurt me to my very core.

I forget how to breathe-only cos you disgust me with you brash audacity.

What do you know bout life?

I’m cross, I’m marred, I’m completely impaired.

what do you know except shouting down opinions?

you so damn selfish and you could do something about it,

if you cared.

You look at me right now, you don’t ask how I am.

Its all about you and your bruised ego.

You selfish bastard-you know nothing ’bout life.

Pained infliction

authentic words of describing the real you.

what the hell is wrong with you?

you are utterly a definition of disgrace.

you don’t know bout nothing.

You only care about your own suffering

I never want to be so ignorant to other lives, eras and genres of people who have a clue.

jungle vibes don’t mean you have to lose your chivalry.

you!

I don’t wanna walk like you

or, talk like you.

what the hell did I see in helping you?

I feel the open wounds- ,I see you take pleasure in openly mocking my new acquired pigmentation.

You know bout nothing -care only bout your own suffering

Lying faces,

sometimes don’t even pretend to be your friend

Lying faces come in different suits.

Proof comes from not recognising their blatant ,arrogant style is their truth

Hear these tears-you can’t look !

bass

turn it up

Music files away the pain.

rain drops cleanse away the ebony and ivory keys layered , over the bruises, of yesterday’s insults aimed at me.

I’m kind of feeling bad right now.

Peace maker?

-you should come with a pacemaker warning label

A pacifist?—

not a clue -what’s the definition –

the kook who can only mutter

‘what -a muppet’

-you don’t know this is serious!

You’ve got your addled mind with amnesia.

you rape your mothers heart repeatedly.

patterns transferred with a motion of akinesia.

Around you,

every person could be convulsing in an epileptic seizure.

you still wouldn’t know it. —

to afraid to part with 15 year old love poems written to yourself in Rhodesia

you speak of peace yet you make dividend equations

,using your thoughtless cowardice utterances, by mc-ing disambigous multiplications as an excuse for regressive aggression.

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Toxic raven nation

Puppet in distress

done  jigging to the maestro player -thinking all can be forgotten with one caress.

Puppet in distress

 dancing  to the bark of wood  to entertain 50 shades of Halifax’s easily ho hummed guest.

Puppet in distress

strings attached by words  signed sincerely yours god bless

puppet in distress

if you truly care then cut the strings and retune to  your idea of finesse

Muppet in a mess

calls upon the one who responds with exotic prowess

Muppet in a mess

commands a court  of clowns.

Here’s a gesture leave this puppet to march to its own goal without making it digress.

Muppet can’t confess

Puppet  forced   to bake an Eaton mess

Lunatic moody spell of loneliness forced  on puppet attempting  to evolve into  a breathing life force.

Heart in full beat .

Victorian smirks  – conceal the lure of lust on heat

Dirt lies on a floor in a heap  in full defeat.

Honest Courage

bare  like the day it conformed to the necessity of sucking its mama’s teat.

Shallow grave digger in demand

Take your boorish rudimentary games on a   scam  time shares camping holiday with  your imaginary friends on reprimand.

one spoon stirrer twat from a council estate –

thinks peaches are organic  when canned.

Humour lost when the smiling mug lost a handle – this  unfortunate series of events was not planned.

Puppet has a grip on reality

Muppet hide or speak with integrity.

Observes the matter of the one  speaking about a raw paw -urban jungle patois.

Allow a Feminist  chancer to equalise the  score.

Voodoo doll pinned  down -preparing for  a hysteria- ectomy.

  Tree pines pins and needle  for  lost comrades hiding away in shadows when its own self belief decided to flee.

Dangled carrots  have less value than the Congo natives begging on bended knee

Understimate the value of one true pulse – a sudden rush of blood to the head.

clear signal you banged egos with the puppet  mans red fire

ignited

well before this species woke up naked in a carnivorous  hermit crab   bed.

Contradictory mixologist – king Loui Armstrong – one of a kind – mans belly not been fed.

Stop expecting organic honey from this flower – she demands  respect- make up your mind – stay or lets leave it with

I’ll  see you in the  wind 

Treason over your feudal system.

cover yourself in  haze of the ghetto inhabitants  blasting out

there goes  another lost soul walking with 

dead.

*Inspired by a chat with  my  hair dresser mate  and ‘I wanna be like you’ Jungle book and life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lure of fascination 

Write to recover

Don’t underestimate the power of a few choice words from another.

Still the mind-frozen ice bar decline

Mountain conquest-The victory is in the scenic  songfest

Emotions sprayed in clouds of mist.

A place so far from  the abuse of the daily grit.

Fight to recover — remember hope strives in another day

Feed and nurture this seed-give it an opportunity-don’t let another life sit and decay.

Losing time — people fragmented in a hazy rhyme.

Distance double flips somersaults. Impressive only till the sun dims less radiantly  clocking off to snooze-lay down with others in benign.

Can only write when thoughts form a Congo – order, progress-the dance in this words come from a heart who usually expresses in mime.

Inflicted amoeba-exhaling indignant carbon monoxide. I despise seeking out for the one’s cued up at at destination  ‘one stop’,Integrity lost standing mid line.

Metamorphose into a grey lizard , eagal or indeed be reborn as the mighty phoenix.

Third degree  burns — death — ashes to ashes worth the pain to be reborn into the matrix.

The urge to sin imparts thoughts to defecate-all held sacred in the church of integrity.

Not enough to know the meaning-practice is what gives this value its credibility.

Walk the straight line — fight the inner hate crime.

Searching for a divine sign-reason dictates energy must endeavour with one’s moral  retuning — to refine. 

Speak up for the light that waivers-clinging on to its last breath

Inspired by an element with the capacity to cause devastation or provide a clear path leading to expulsion ending in

 relief.

One wish to formulate all the intelligence into an honest medium of communication

History teaches-not all understand the world on multiple levels of perception of another situation.

Courage to flush  the contents highlighting the spiral of organic destruction.

One day at a time — one moment to lie. Craving for the mythical Elysium.

Compulsive tics  create a house of pain-exhaling tension-contain the nuclear feteus-natures own opium.

Losing track of the words that stumble — imbibed drunks-hungover searching for  a quench of delirium.

Evade – This is the time when courage fails to conquer life’s illusive temptations — the bell tolls-the seekers contort to fits of tingling.

Invisible to the faithful patrons in full  stasis cycle. A burden

a cross —

communication interrupted by Manic pleas to bear Atlas boulder with herculean madness lingering.

Cross eyed staring at the lit up pyres, 

smell of human flesh disintegrate into a ritual released for those travelling the unknown path of death.

Reason can’t imprint enough ink — memories inclined to dementia bouts of forget.

Last nights shallow breathing ,shadows taunt — loom over until the inner eye seeks regret.

Promises made in a plea of  chaotic desperation

Only to be forgotten the day after  the congestion lifts —   arise the sleeping urge to  compete with this  peculiar fascination

 

 

 

 

end of Nervosa beginning

She conceives words as they follow. Military soldiers conform to order.

Dissident few stutter in a withheld, race identity, chalk circle.

Her brain won’t allow her to move on.

Lamenting for  a trusted source.

until then,

Life halts.

Collapses onto hot tarmac. Too tired to alter.

Melt her heart.

Resuscitate the breathe that gives her corpse a reason to impart

A post

worthy

For a creative outlet,

Her own personal work of art.

Hands raking  through her hair. Grip  at the sides, pulls out a chunk,

Its cool,

She’s dating an alopecia hunk.

This funk makes junk.

Eyeball sockets sunk.

Maybe,

It would be better if she didn’t care if the words weren’t her own.

Maybe ,

It wouldn’t matter if the characters  didn’t continue to harass her.

Calling for their story to be heard.

Multiple attempts. She can’t cut out cardboard citizens.

Maybe in an empty space, yes.

Verbatim theatre could work.

She submits  to an elusive entity.

Virtual paper work-enough to bag a colostomy.

Not been on here much.

The guilt makes her turn her head away.

She gets it,

She needs to reciprocate.

Sincerest apologies for not being present.

She’s surfing the web.

Googling data  analysis and Lady bosses fine tuning their hold on her own grip.

She prefers to lie down  on green pastures than make love, on a bed,of  green bills any day!

Unfortunately, life says she has to pay in paper too  to make some headway.

It’s all right. It will pass.

Shivering from the inside. Lack of carbon dioxide.

Waiting for the critical to report how much recovery time she needs before Muse Goddess ups and leaves.

It’s a look of a person. Shrivelled  into crass.

train

Thought-rhyming is a pain in her  ass.

She’s laying it down in quick dry cement.

She’s  empathetic,

she knows we all want to be that portrait

Well, hung.

She’s a portrait too.

Has her needs

Open your eyes-reach out to touch her.

These layers of skin hide organs, bones ,

And a heart so tense-all it can do is wheeze.

“This is me. I can’t deny it.”

We all have a life.

Hers has become a familiar rendezvous with Alien Jackson sporting a mullet.

What does it matter if characters are Black, White or Hispanic?

Social realism settling on common ground upon its release.

Not for an escapist’s  palate.

What is the state of  theatrical politics, on the horizon, beyond that place we call-

a future?

Statement.

Not even two Bonds can be saved.

Edwardian era

high necklines

Pearl earrings engraved.

Cavities,

Her gums are in recession.

Blame the bank and the Tories.

Her feminist views will place blame on those next in succession.

Watermelon-shaped breasts

One larger – hangs limply from her chest.

Commit a mastectomy on  her femininity

Humans fight terminal illness, homelessness…

How dare she think her position is dire.

Utter profanity.

Disbelief that that her renegade words  follow in a Capitalist order.

Letters appear

She falls onto her  knees,

Thanks Ashanti for her daughters.

Time to shove a half pill down some pussies throat.

Its nasty ,

Its dirty,

Doubts whether deep throat works

She’s trying to  stay afloat.

Her illness-the chronic versus the opposite divide

Stereotyped bullshit

It’s her personal narrative that finds her  margined between this blank space on each side.

Calm and serene.

A  mother is  reborn.

Lost for 3 days — late – couldn’t rise,

Her mind was indeed full of scorn.

Today, she waits,

Wrings out her anxieties.

Maybe new teeth will  win her  virtual friends.

Give her more appraising  likes

Maybe, they will finally see that she is real,

vulnerable ,

rearranging her mask-unsure of what reflects back at her multiple ‘Me’s’ 

Discombobulated

Her reflection is divided  into  pieces.

Cant fathom out that there is a whole entire being  to examine

Jig saw puzzle unresolved ,

yet again  crippled to her knees.

No prayer.

Fervent  sweeping up of  shattered glass.

For a figment of a second she saw an outline

Perfectly crystallised.

Stories march in protest – for plot out lines, dramatic structure, scenes, reveal characters in lace

Just enough exposed  to show.

Three more weeks, one year down-more time for unadulterated fun.

If you don’t hear from her,

Know she weeps every night  into  a whisky soaked bun.

It’s a metaphor.

Let go and melt the sun.

Cool down its temper.   Versailles gardens make her think of France cut into a jambon quarter.

Carry on till the end.

All the books say she ought to.

Humming a song

Doing her  thing.

A mere whiff of failure invokes convulsions from within.

Weary, purged…

‘Write for myself ‘

Truth , integrity and courage is the only way she will let herself be heard.

If you can’t accept her-carry on peeking over at her life, not mentioning if cuckoo finally flew.

One day, you won’t be able to tighten Ids screw.

*Inspired by a kish kash,  Mish mash of nerve endings and beginnings .

Athena

Sights of sanity

conquest over humans infamy.

moving faster than the speed of light.

computers can’t process the spoken  word

lose track of sight.

Soaring,

tumbling

race  to expose hidden epiphany.

vocabulary fails Athena from reaching success in the liturgy.

damn harmonisation – pomadera technique.

Time management  -father grant one hour for those deaf,dumb and blinded

By the oppression tumble from the mouth of the libertarians speech.

hypophysectomise critical on the downfall .

Search engine optimises  – tracks a perfect pitch call.

Saviour hear these mantras sent up  in earnest.

Soul laced,

racy,

its breathless.

it’s for the greatest good  Nottinghamshire’spoorest.

Bath bubbles wait for a body that has matter .

69 spoonfuls of bio oil smooth out the stretch marks-

dissolves the fat cats.

Watch them  scatter.

Enemy pilots covert zombie nuns in a pig stye

Overthinking- condensates these cloud tufted ideas.

The flow loses integrity – it stands for the lie.

Shaking bones to release the overspill.

Athena  won’t be a subject to her  own life gains and losses.

Stay true to her style.

No  sounds  of a  Swedish  rehashed assembly

lined out to bear all our crosses.

Stunted by the overthink- look away from her spinal  index

a mind blinks in epiletic seizures.

Unsanitary insults tossed around,

a tussled rustle

Nomad hiding in the bushes

He doesn’t whether  he’s angry or horny

Either way should fuck some common  sense into her.

procrastination halts.

Spaces so tight it has to play its ordained key.

Sounds of queer folk living off  Givenchy.

Rumours, ill gotten behaviour

pussy cat kneeding into yesterdays lingerie.

Not so much economical as busy with the normal day to day.

No digits on the clock,

time shows up in a 5 year old making intelligible sentences.

Forced to awaken from her slumber.

Time lapsed under the sound of a deity clapping out thunder.

what’s up with the pretences?

Athena peers into the eyes of a child not so new born.

whispers ‘listen with both ears’

Goddess takes her own advice and is graced with the miricle of life;

she succumbs to tears.

Finally managed to get up on the retrograde.

Trumped on an ally.

Her apoligies can still be heard in the fade.

Outed for having an opinion.

A belief!

Offended the entire faith of chritianity.

exhiled by her father figure.

She stands her ground where other men bow their heads.

Money makes a human weak in the teeth.

One fine day the bull will take off his horns when in pause mode.

The eagle will descend and emotions will spill out of  its  beak

hybridisation is the result of such an offload.

Glitter , maroon -carpets may seize the day and fly.

Although the author of these words questions the reason why.

Calling out to a nation of intellectual breeders.

They never want to hire former institutionalised  life seekers.

Whose truly deserving of at least the 90 th chance?

Some people don’t even live to experience their own wedding day dance.

Stuttering over each word. Tempted to  cuss.

Athena refuses to get stuck in reverse.

Ready to fertilise blood with the dark night of the soul.

Athena never passes up a challenge

uh oh

time to stop her before she’s crying over spilt milk

Betrayal   overheard by a righteous all seeing mole living in a borrowed hole.

 

Twirl cray cray Daisy

*Please feel free to throttle me/ unfollow me. This is worse than Trollope tripe -it would be more pleasurable watching a live abortion. Maybe that is inappropriate. I don’t think there is anything pleasant about what I have just let myself type.  Apologies*

I think I feel a little sick.

Success is opening up her arms and people waving flags with my initials on it.

Sounds narcissistic but I guess I am afraid of the things I want most.

Success, Praise love, and Happiness.

Seamless drama is never far from a molecule in a foreign body on an abstract shoreline.

Possibly an inch closer to the imperial mix.

Take me up to shallow waters to bubble blowers and fellow talkers.

Don’t say it was me who created this venture.

I should have known ‘off the bat’ how it all works,

I’m feeling the inferiority rapture.

No, I don’t think I’m grand.

I don’t have time to glance in my Id crescent- shaped reflector.

I’m too busy overtaking the speed of light

working on the next bender, I mean.. adventure.

Praise me. I say thank you. I might even put a smile on for the finale.

Inside I’m thinking:

If you knew me I would be the one laughing when I hear some dude pronounce the G – in the word gnarly.

This is how I push people away. I make them think I have the flair to take every offer going spare.

Ditch me.

Hitch me.

Guaranteed, I will hike up the rent on the boardwalk by the glitchy sea.

I don’t know who to talk to.

These four walls and a cerebrum of characters have overspilled,

bulging out of their zippers.

appealing for me to gaze down to the center of all taboo.

Replace this mind below the gentry hippers.

Inside I need a pressure valve replacement.

Are they right?

the ones who make me feel I’m wrong like I’m a pyscho.

I tipple over the mountain edge in fright.

Who to believe?

The ones who make me feel I’m ugly inside?

an object on the outside – something to be used – an animated tool.

Or,

do I believe the ones who make me feel like the sun shines?

every time I reach out

generously,

pouring my words over anyone who feels the need for a breeze of air:

Brand name:

Legit fresh cool 

Inside I’m tumbling.

A Scotsman in true fashion – rolling down hills with wee scant from a below eye level.

The mailer in this ale is taking its time to zoom around this corpus Christi.

 The one in whose image we are declared.

 Hear them all rebel when I tell them to leave my goat- she has her own bell.

I don’t believe in religious carnality.

I  believe I’m here.

Think I can only post something reeking in banality.

I wonder.

All the time.

I look for a reason for why people are wrong to love me.

I get bored and frustrated.

I look back when Evolution dictates to reason that I must move forward to reach the charlotte caramelized sea.

Don’t look back in anger.

Ska- lites.

Beats drop.

Avalanches of prejudice awaits me.

Raging in a carnival of colored palettes.

Two-tone is a note to hear something based on sweet civility.

Chivalry crept up on me and I made a splash.

Juxtaposed in the style of the clash.

More whale than mermaid -not quite the sight I was hoping you would remember me.

Vacuous timing.

bobbing on a skyline.

Can  I stand up or will I end up putting myself out?

Surprised at how I manage to keep the white cloaks from rapping at my window.

 I’m sure  I made a terminal agreement to sign myself in if

my face didn’t resume back to timeless position after a session of ‘the heavy pout’.

To make up or not to make up.

To share and be open or hide and whisper Goethem.

Reeled back to a cause – a club with red tape around the chill out room.

Stumped, I could be in a forest, for all you know, I could be higher than that blue kite.

Erect like her witches wooden broom.

My minds a place of genuine fear at times.

I can feel people waiting to hear what will come out every orifice.

Laugh with me or at me.

Make sure you got a clue what you on about – in every topic up for discussion.

don’t look around for a bar room tit,

just so you can feel a head higher than the king of Epileptic fits.

Rudimental,

judgemental.

The most viscous harness whip I encounter is my own corpus callosum.

It comes out at me, at you,

at the crowd.

Prey eyes – fear the bird with the talisman.

Some days I think about being ordinary, then I think,

of course, I’m beyond that station of being so free.

I let fools rush in – I make a meal with plenty of meat and two servings of potato

I doubt myself too much.

I talk way too much shit to get any credit for how this piece ends

Did you know I have long toes?

My favorite ice cream is the one with the little Eskimo.

Coalesce

Don’t give up – don’t give in.

Eyes watching to discover you bloated- vomiting in  your own sin.

Brain chess- pawn after pawn  took unjustly,

black equality doesn’t matter – cognition will conquer what it desires  lustily.

ivory conquests – impure from the acidic bile.

Caffeine alert – simulate all senses –   the target is the common – that is the  biggest bargain ransom.

Flogging a dead horse to a blind , mute lost soul –  cognitive dissonance – child sings ‘Out comes the sunshine’  in the disguise of a bloomed blossom.

Wasted life. Wasted wife. Wasted mother . Wasted father. Wasted land.

Travesty lurking – spoof like – we know it is there – feet kicking -hiding behind the sofa – giggling, like a child thinking it’s invicible.

Unchain my heart.   Hostel bed sores – shine a light on our plight – save us from his saw hand, marked fallible.

Man made – pharmaceutical drug lords – inject a lethal dose of synthetic Gamma wave – stationary by product.

Profiteering – collateral damage – no name – no existence – mere condensation,   trickling down a viaduct.

Fight for your life- for your consciousness .

Throw down the tools of self-destruction – only ashes to see here-phoenix bird eloped with the dodo bird in Act two.

Aristophanes’s – greek tragicomedy – bawdiness.

 One character stumbled along a plot that emerged in the opening scene of the frenzied laughter -off stage – tame that harlot shrew.

Glasses askew – brightness dulled by 1960 tranquilised   blue smurf salesmen.

What do we know of consequences?

When we seemingly have found an answer to a long held problem  of delirium tremor flashbacks from war apocalypse rehabilitation stint-

Take 911!

Hurry or we will need another corporate shaman.

Worry not – reverse psychology.

worry a lot – trust in the depth of raising questions in philosophy.

I write with no answers,

intelligible at times.

Wondering how to get back to a well-educated mind – who knew how to rationalize.

splitting images – there goes a notorious caricature of her former self –  ignoring traffic lights and all her accumulated speeding fines.

Slow release.

Hat trick

Card trick

Fear of bats

Watch the finest disappearing act,

coalesce .

A beaten wooden heart..

WOW! My first experiment with poetry -way back in December 2015.

REFLECTION# Where there is life there is heart still beating.

Daisy in the Willows

She has so much

Nothing to want for

Her home is full of jewels

adorned with gold

all these jewels come with a beating heart

Why does she lust?

Why does she force Father times hands?

Your entire being is beautiful

It is

I love you

many  times a day

She loves, yes

One version of love amongst many

What does the past have to offer?

what ifs.

If she hangs onto her past

What does her future reveal?

Her present

A  court she can finally command

She  unties her collection of masks

They  fall

These are her coloured ribbons of rules

They  sway -a slave to the wind

She parades her new silk coloured clothes

the ones she forgot she ever had.

She allows a select few to disrobe

Her  in all her  brazen nakedness

proudly displayed.

She must be more than just another’s lust

She lives in a…

View original post 172 more words

The ties that bind

The globe is always spinning and today we stop off in India.

SECRET TO HAPPINESS:  Appreciate the gift of family

TRADITION: Raksha Bandhan 

DATE : Full moon day in the Hindu month of Shraven ( mid July- August)

CELEBRATED: in India

This might sound like a bit of a contradictory post  on how to find happiness but happiness is not  about throwing yourself onto a bed of roses,  as aesthetically pleasing an image that that conjures.

Family is a bit of a broad topic.

I should know! I have two large families on both sides. I have a half sister and step sister who I don’t have a strong relationship with. They both lives in South Africa  , I live in the U.K. and well so much time has gone by.

My Dad and his wife and ,my two nieces whom I don’t know, live there too. My Dad turned his back on me a long time ago.

 No pity.

From the age of 7 I knew that I did not take  any priority in his life. It was the same for my step sister.  When my Dad remarried to my step- mother -30 odd years ago  – they made some pact that the past is the past and for their own happiness; they would forget about everyone and everything to start  afresh ,build a new family and be happy.

I get this.

 There is is that old saying : ‘we can’t choose our family’.

 My Nan on my Dad’s side promptly reminded me of this yesterday.

I’ve always thought no matter how much my Dad’s side of the family, in all their numbers, hate my Mom’s side,(now than I am an adult they  have stopped pretending to like me and actively shun me too) in all of this: I  learned that the bond I have with my Nan could never be broken.

She looked after me from the age of 8-15 years . My Mom was ill and in hospital for many years. My Dad and Nan (mainly when she drank) and my step mother always put my mother down. It has taken a long time but me and my Mom have dealt with the past and  have a remarkable relationship now.

Yes, we all have strong personalties in  our families that clash. That is a given. Who else knows us so well than the people from past? the people we grew up with?

The thing is that not all of us were our real selves when in our past. Drugs and illness may have hid our personalities.

Neglect -physical and emotional can also make a person very confused.

I don’t blame my upbringing for my decisions in the past but I do think it influenced my actions to a degree.

Ultimately, we choose our own path. There are laws that decide 18, 21 or 25 years is the time span  long  enough to learn  and be  accountable for our actions. Morally, this may not be something I agree with completely.

I do feel that the adults in our lives (usually family)are our teachers. I’ve been taught good and bad things (in a variety of contexts) from the role models in my life or lack of them. Their absence can also make an impact on how we decipher our way into the world.

Where we decide is our place in the world.

In India, an annual celebration takes place to honour the relationship of brothers and sister- I quite like the English translation of ‘Raksha Bandhan’- ‘ the bond of protection’.

On this day, brothers and sisters come together and celebrate their blood connection and take the time to appreciate one another. The tradition is: that each brother is made  what is called a ‘rhaki’- a bracelet made out of cotton or silk which is tied on the right wrist of every brother- a symbol -of ‘affection’, love’ and ‘protection of love’.

Sisters a given beautiful gifts and  brothers  bless their sisters and promise  to protect their sisters fro the up coming year ahead.

This tradition starts from childhood.

Not everyone has a brother or sister,so other family come from all four globes of the world to unite and keep the tradition up and honour it.

‘Friends come and go’ -we say, but family is always connected to us by blood.

Family

Here’s the the contradictory part of the post.

For most of my life I know that my Nan has always had my back. I know that she is the person who taught me to keep in contact with my own sister and family. I learnt by experience, if we fought, nothing would break the love and bond we have.

I had to make a tough decision yesterday.

A lesson I  possibly learnt from my own fathers absence.

I’m having struggles with my own illness. I am constantly having to fight to have time to be with my Nan

 Her family get jealous by  any time we spend together.  They don’t understand why or how my Mom and Nan  can still have a strong bond and relationship because my Mom is the the ex-wife.

They don’t understand.

In all truth, they may be called ignorant.

My Mom and I have been ill for many years and have been ostracised for this.

We are in a better place these days.

My Nan went on holiday to see my Dad and sister and my nieces in November for three months in 2015. In that time ,my Mom ,my partner and I have worked together in harmony to make sure our wedding day will be  unforgettable.

My Nan has a strong personality. This usually  reveals the trait of one who  needs to control. Control unfortunately,  brings out the worst in people.

 I know this from my own past experiences in trying to orchestrate everything and everybody in my life.

I was manipulative – I had to be to get what I wanted!

 My Nan is no different to others who seek to control – in her tactics- to get her way.

My Nan is a good woman- with flaws. The biggest is making me feel guilty for everything.

Yes, she looked after my daughter for 16 months while social services were in my life. I got rid of the toxic people in my life, I bucked up my ideas and fought and I proved that I am a good a enough  mother (to social services, family, judges – and the whole unwanted entourage that came with socials services)

I have done my time.

I don’t know how many times I can say I am thankful to my Nan, how many gifts I can buy her.

I do know that I won’tbe made to  feel indebted to her for the the rest of my life.

She looked after me too. She has looked after many of her families children over the years.

Always feeling used, under appreciated by every parent of which ever child she was caring for. Be it a few hours or a few years.

This doesn’t come across as a happy post but it is. I know it is a long post. Please try bear with me.

 My Nan has been back from South Africa  for less than two weeks and harmony has gone out the window. I don’t think she can get her head round the fact that we have managed to sort our our wedding with my ‘weak’ ‘fragile minded’ mothers help. It feels like, to me and my partner, that all we have received is little digs. Small, but enough to make an impact.

I  had to make the decision to leave her with her family.

I deserve happiness.

We all do.

I’m not willing to to be drawn into parlour games:

Comparisons of how well off and how much better my Dad’s side of the family are.

Or,

how she has to go on another holiday to get over the time she had in South Africa.

A lot of negatives were said.

No positives.

 I love her. No buts.

I do also  have to put my happiness and my daughters and my partner and my Mom’s happiness before hers.

She has a a lot of support from her family. Well, she does until she has had a fight with them. Sound familiar?

 Thing is I’m fed up of it.

DRAMA!

 Last night I was so upset and drained, I couldn’t do anything I enjoy doing like  being with my family, reading, blogging, reading blogs

I want a peaceful life as possible.

I will not allow the past to repeat itself with certain ways in how certain family members made an impression on  me. I will gladly take responsibility for anything good and bad that happens while I parent my child and any children we have.

There will be no playing one off the the other.

“DAISY! (you cry) WHERE IS ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THIS POST?”

Good question.

Please bear with me, I have a message and a task – one I need to challenge myself to do too.

 Can you think of something special you used to do with someone in your family?

My Nan and I devour books and love literature and writing. She inspired me to write and pushed me to develop any hidden talent. This post wouldn’t be here- crystallised, if it weren’t for her rooting for me over the years.

Is there some kind of meaningful ritual you could create to celebrate and strengthen your unique bond?

I would love to make it a regular occasion to got to the theatre with my Nan or  join a book /writing club together with her.

“HOW ARE YOU GOING TO DO THIS DAISY? YOU HAVE REJECTED YOUR NAN IN FAVOUR OF YOUR OWN HAPPINESS?”

True, for the next 12 weeks I need peace and harmony.

Like I said before, friends may come and go, our family are always connected to us.

Time to put my big boots on.

MESSAGE: Never forget the safe haven your family members created – no matter how flimsy and dysfunctional. They were doing what they could with  the best resources they had to navigate their own path .

Some of my happiest memories are those with my Nan.

Never forget that family  can be the source of some of life’s most happiest moments. Relationships do break down but I have a strong bond with my Nan and in time I hope we can re connect.

I was going to attempt to make amends after the wedding.

No, today. I will make amends. She will take my daughter to ballet and tap as she does most weeks and we will all meet up afterwards  and go and sort out the wedding cake as planned,

 I need peace and harmony for the next 12 weeks. It doesn’t mean I love her any less.  Last nights decision was made because I only know what is best for that moment. I have not closed the door on any of my family for good.

Today I make amends. Life is too short.  Always try and keep a a small space reserved in your heart for wiser times in your life and you will find peace and happiness.

Told, you it would be a happy post in the end 🙂