Does it need to be said ?
Because the Media makes you think your make up is inappropriate
If you are horrified to ask Google for mental health support.
You know I’m hear to tell it — (once )’for a cause not for an applause’
To avoid the pariah of your mind.
Who you are is important for your wellbeing
Beautiful you are because of your malaise.
Its about what you think
A unique template for peace of mind.
Alone-thoughts are you,
And yours together.
Others’ opinions must dance alone with their shadows.
Fathoming the world is relative to your state
Diagrams and graphic diagnostics aren’t “normal”
Merely for inferences and academic utterances.
Your Beauty is personified by playful events racing around your head.
Love it like you love…
Those who have numbers and words yet can’t calculate when there’s enough unsaid.
Needs are experiences.
Feelings are needs…
Interpret the world through the vessel of your spirited Self .
When skies hang drably
Do you dazzle because you can see a scattered horizon of hope — as a possibility ?
When the Others tether connections
Tumble into an abyss —
Can you see their limits ?
Allow them to be.
Is your world subject to scrutiny because of how you interpret human nature?
Do you deviate from society’s accusations of what is the trending status quo?
What if the box you live in is… outside?
What if you build a bridge?
Bearing a cross
Over to acceptable taboos ?
Breath prescribed by an arched smile.
Diagnose yourself Beautiful- because of your laments .
Before time becomes an absolute Obsession
Forecasting the outcome to the finale to the play of ‘This is your Life’.
Take moments to repose.
Free yourself from the expectation
To be your career,
To win over the Marvel comic genderless hero.
Deprecate your expectations to finance your inner Happiness resources.
This entity is inside your realm of Consciousness — restless
Trodden and stamped into a standing pose.
Moments of reflection pace
Forwards then backwards
Are you what you want to be?
Can you begin a journey if you don’t understand where you are at?
Certainly living up to some other lifer’s calculation should…
Pause your being into a statuesque introspection.
To dismiss your guttural instincts will unravel you at the seams— out-thread you out of your very own mind.
Success comes from mapping out your own directions.
Hopeful-to wake up to another day of understanding ‘This is your Life’.
Your ability to comprehend, foreshadows your failed attempts to claw out of the darkest pit.
Sounds of the ocean lap to your melody.
Nothing that you feel about Today
Can conceive the trembling murmurs cut off from the guillotine of your Sanity.
In all of your figurements…are you determined to act out your suicide because you fear your inability to state your arousel ?
Who you are
Is that wrong?
Thoughts pre empt if everything is filled in with Leftism
Dismiss you have the good view!
Change your world
Refuse every thing
That threatens your Passions —
That provokes beta beatings whistling out of tune.
Precious notions find a sense of disambiguation before the matter resolves itself.
Do you tell others to respond to what you fail to question?
Where is the perversity in watching the death of your inner Flinch — to conclude this delusion ?
What if you won’t be the canvas that contains an abstract spectrum fading you out of very own Self ?
Look on at those who shrink into their frames bled of every shade of hues
Is this what you want?
*A character I’m working on for some project in the future*
Take me to a place where being penniless is the land of the free.
Pennies should only be sought after a valued thought.
Lift my skirt higher?
Do you really think I can get that low?
I’m too shy to go all Billy bass
to consider blowing some dude in his family car-
in the hope of getting a lyrical limbo.
Or…am I ?
credit cards maxed
I hope you get it now. Yeah…
that’s what I think I would say to the first punter.
I’D MUG HIM..
Do time for…
Take your filthy hands off Do you get it now?
This life is awry.
They get to fuck with
NO FUSS Debauchable.
Confession -Don’t tell a soul.
If I ever became a whore
I’d make a kiss the most expense price on my list.
You know, tongues.
Romance is dead.
WE ALL WANT BE LOVED
Obviously we all we want to…
Kissing is the height of mind altering spooning.
Lack of kisses & cuddles can make a nirvana or dypstopia of…
Hearts in denial of their poverty.
Two weeks to wait for my interview.
As long as my holy sunshine is safe.
I will see some other side.
Smile, my blue eyed Mommy.
No throwing sand on a cardboard box
Still have a few tears to battle out.
I do have a decent amount of self respect.
Where do all the good people go?
Do they become bad?
Be strong little one!
We grow from jungle roots and a paradise nigh off the setting sun
we clap in silence for nature — our divine protector —
My prayers are with her holy Gaia.
… shake it baby
Keys to unsilence the drama
a happen ing in my Soviet Russian impersona
caricature is classic!
Say what is on yo mind…
too many interests’
Too little time.
I can’t rap
But I do
70% water — can’t Make this shit up…
Scientists don’t discriminate-
unless this stream is already filled up
outCHOON Ed by the original televised chooners
First and foremost a clickity clackety mandated muse.
Take note — one way to scale down the itchy scratchy post
it gets a bit cameras in your face-
Porno time ?
These nuts ogle for a trace.
Mind seemingly souring to this distaste.
cos she has no form
other than to
intro- apple -genuisly feed
One day worthy for the First Lady to perform ?
all in my head Shucks… Big up,Daisy noted
‘mo brain mo crane’ Fly to the East
Sigh to the West
side with the South
Hustle with the true north.
Whatever get’s her typing
It’s all a bit willowy
Throw in a hillbilly (?)
if it gets these words making some…
ain’t apologising for being an invader of my own space.
ha ha when you cha cha.
‘it’s gone,Gym’ Giblets strutting down this street
Shaking their tail feathers to those with the Harmonised feet.
chiming Dutch bells
Her the time is for her inner She-era.
The mice may be chasing that scatty cat.
She speaks fluent meow-skies — knows a few tings concerning species ruled by the One Count-Ah! Ah!
Give this a ball a bat.
If you’ve caught up …
Tell her where she lost the plot.
hint Where is she at?
doing the wiggle worm , 8 years young?
maybe I’m a kid ‘— kidders rights to think
‘maybe I am shit hot.’
Child hood is bliss.
Impervious to the nonsense .
Tolerate her apparent nonchalance.
she winds down
Screetches for more.
grasps the idea of
throw your hands in the air Hit, publish — these words
have no shame, in saying
I don’t care.
Be content to have your own flair.
Sometimes you gotta groove the ghetto to let up some get up and get some get go.
I had fun writing this.
*Currently, I’m working on my Masters-Year two. I’m working on a piece about a jury split over the ‘ grey areas’ of a media frenzied, high profile case, A young ,married man is accused of Raping his partner. Is he absolutely guilty of Raping his wife? One night of passion. Two stories. What happened that night? The evidence lies in the hands of 12 jury members.*
‘Do you promise to tell the truth, so help you God? 12
Half a dozen fester in a room
In a hyped media play pen;
Forecast for doom.
Devising the fate of a boy
In touch with his truth.
A mistake , is he to fall?
Be punished for the ongoing debate?
Does it make it right?
Boy continues a relationship with the sexually assaulted.
Publicly claims fearful of boy’s sinister
Fright on sight?
It’s never okay.
No means no. Two people.
Damn, that’s a blow
No drug could penetrate,
Mass guilt floods
Semantic fluid clogs the mind
Of a boy done wrong.
Easy to get cynical..
You were to decide his fate.
Where do you compromise your
Determine the facts?
Voices swiftly tear apart views
Silenced into cloud funded crowds offset to dissipate.
What is a worthy punishment?
Manipulate Boy to gain the upper hand to…
….Deal with a death of paternal bond?
Cash in on emotional connections equivalent to living in the cult of
the son of I am.
‘Forgive me not or let me be free!’ ,he pleads
Can we move forward?
Can we sever ties ? Chalk it up to experience.
Live without hubris.
His existence determined by
A dozen eggs:
Hidden behind Neon flashlights pointing to God’s hand
Directing the choir to Man’s asunder demise?
Asunder is an adverb that means “into separate pieces.” So if you’ve torn your ex’s love letter asunder, you’ve forcefully ripped it into separate pieces — and rightly so.
Asunder comes from the Old English phrase on sundran, which means “into separate places.” It is a somewhat archaic and uncommon word and most of us know it only from marriage ceremonies: “What God has joined together let no man put asunder.” In most cases you can use its more common synonym “apart” and convey the same meaning, unless you want to express a particularly violent or forceful ripping.
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 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 –
my body will be dancing!
feet stilettos connecting with your underbelly
weak spots identified for a finale.
-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 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.
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.
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
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 !
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.
-you should come with a pacemaker warning label
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.
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.
The WOW and Woe moments of an irrepressible woman