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.

 

This weed looks up & sees results

I think I am going to faint.

TMA 3  results back in for my Masters.

83% a high merit and incredible feedback.

Current score

  • TMA 1 62% (Script genre)

  • TMA 2  82%  (Fiction genre)

  • TMA 3 83% ( Script genre)

Here is the 700 -ish word commentaryI submitted for my  TMA 3 and the feedback.

I believed I couldn’t do this MA. I believed I was shit at writing but maybe…… with practice I can be a better writer and achieve great things.

Writing a book is less of a goal.

Using my words to change society -however insignificantly, is a goal of mine.

mahatma-gandhi-almost-anything-you-do-to-help-humanity-will-seem-insignificant-but-its-very-important-that-you-do-it

COMMENTARY TM3 Approaching script writing the Aristotelian way.

My challenge was to write a whole play in 18 minutes. I believe that there is too much exposition and would suit as a longer script. When I cut, or slowed certain dialogue-it’s original appeal became lost to a different type of play. The characters lost what made them unique.  This is where I rely loosely on morality play techniques. This story could have started in many ways. I felt it best to reveal the turning point and the how and why’s at the end of the play. It is linear and has a beginning, middle and end reminiscent of Greek Tragedy plays.

I often use a stream of consciousness technique to get into a writing zone. For scene 1, I started typing on a blank page and let characters come to my head and speak whatever they wanted.  This was how the first scene was produced. I was tempted to discard it until I received positive and constructive feedback on the TGF forum.

A possible subconscious influence for early drafts came from reading the chapter on David Edgars’ how to write a play, (chapter 2 page 17). In TMA 2, I focused on creating characters to reveal the plot and as exposition. Upon reflection, after reading the on-going debate about the primacy of plot versus characters, I think to an extent this true of, e.g., medieval genre morality plays.

Difficulties arose to make the characters more 3-dimensional when using archetypical/universal characters. I relied heavily on a strong plot to drive the narrative and the characters through to the conclusion of the script. TMA3-  plot informed the characters and their motives.

Other influences came from conversations with my blogger acquaintance, Clarissa Simmens( Simmens C. 2017) who is from Roma gypsy descendant, and my own great -grandparent’s lineage who fled the Russian 1918 revolution to live a life in the slums of Paris. The setting and background gave the characters more complex motives and inner conflict. Panacea is an old woman who was left with her second sight and not accepted by society or her Nephew.

In this world, it seems society is lured by visual aids. Vladimir was more ready to accept Eve’s gift of soothing people’s problems because of how she appeared outwardly. Vladimir is complex, he was left with third-degree burns from the 1903 revolution, lost his parents, went to live with his “strange” grandmother.

Hopefully, a writer will get a true sense of Vladimir’s character by the end of the play. He did what he had to do to survive. He is human. Flawed. He didn’t stop and analyse whether he should save baby Eve in the Revolution; instinct took over.  My inspiration for how he and Eve arrived in Paris (maintaining a high-status life during and after WW1) is taken from George Orwell’s book ‘Down and Out in Paris and London’ set in 1925.  There is reference to espionage and a secret Russian society, whom, paid people to convert to communism after the war (Gutenberg.net.au. (2017).

The music in the piece serves as a device to vary the pace of the play. I hope that the melancholy moments of when Eve/ Panacea plays will give the audience a time to pause, or at the very least, vary or change the pace of emotion.

Genre: this play is not one type of play. I describe it as experimental, immersive drama with elements of morality play themes because, the characters do indeed impart the audience with a strong message.

Humans are complex. There is a clear theme of choices and consequences.

I don’t want to ignore any doubts about this piece: H.R. made constructive comments on the language and the exposition of the piece (refer to XX FEEDBACK (2017)).   I hope that the timelessness of dialogue and language could very well take place in Paris, or indeed a modern society setting of today. My choice of setting reinforces to emphasise that these stereotypical characters still function inside time. Does Eve deserve her fate? Probably not.

Time has moved on, wars still occur yet society still seems to dwell on escapism i.e. Piano music metaphor to deal with life, dwelling on people who seem to have the illusion of the perfect life/ status. Society still struggles with acceptance of identity, race, ethnicity, mental health status etc. We’ve made advancements in technology/society but what about advancements in what type of human we should strive to be?

 

MY TUTORS FEEDBACK –I have kept her name anonymous for obvious reasons.

PT3Thank you for handing in TMA03.

This TMA accounts for 35% per cent of your continuous assessment mark for the module.

There are three parts to TMA 03:

a creative writing element;
a commentary;
extracts of peer review contributions.

Write a stage script ?18 minutes running time.
Write a radio script ?18 minutes running time.
Write a film script ?18 minutes running time.
Please state clearly on the first page which medium (stage, radio or film) you are writing for.

Your script can be either a stand-alone work, complete in itself, or it can be part of a longer play or film. If the latter, it should be structurally resolved (e.g. it might be a complete act from a larger piece; it should not finish mid-action or mid-scene). If providing a section, provide a summary of the larger project ? no more than 200 words ? situating the submitted section in relation to the larger work and offering some context. This summary will not be assessed in itself, and it won’t feature in the word or page counts.

Your script should not be an adaptation of work by another author or an adaptation of a piece of your own work which has been submitted for an earlier TMA.

This part constitutes 15% of this TMA?s grade.

Write a commentary (700 words) about the process of creating your work, the context in which it was developed, and your relevant further reading.

WHERE YOUR TMA SUCCEEDED

A Fair Wish World is powerful piece about loss, vision (actual sight and second sight), mental health and how war and conflict shapes or rather twists people.  It’s full of big ideas and you work within a very imaginative immersive theatre setting.  Also you have two people, one of whom has apparently saved the other, when it turns out that Vladimir is more reliant on Eve.  History is full of unusually talented women who have surrendered their power to a man (Doris Day’s third husband was abusive and stole her money, Billie Holliday was permanently attracted to abusers).  There’s a link here to the depressing litany of young women and their exploitative lovers, so this theme has a timeless resonance (although Vladimir isn’t a villain).

https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/article/the-music-industry-men-who-got-away-with-exploiting-female-pop-stars

There is an interesting piece I’ve linked below here about Peter Brook (he’s 91!!) and his latest production – how stripped back and bare it is and how for example a single piece of cloth can represent several things, eg a piece of cloth is twisted into a snake at one point.  This is, in my opinion, a true sense of live theatre, where the audience invests their imagination as opposed to being passive observers – as we are a bit with television. (Also it keeps costs down!)  So your idea of the immersive, promenade production is a good idea as well as showing that you are using the medium of theatre as fully as you can.

https://dctheatrescene.com/2017/03/31/peter-brooks-vision-battlefield-stage-kennedy-center-review/

All the characters resonate, but none more so than Panacea (I’ve got this image of Coco Chanel in my head) and Vladimir, the Russian aristocrat.  Panacea because of her contrasting powers and down to earthiness but Vladimir because it was only a few years since the entire Russian imperial family, the Romanovs with their five children were murdered at Ekaterinburg in 1918.  The British royal family offered mealy mouthed excuses for not offering them shelter but the real reason was they were afraid of a similar revolution in England, as I’m sure you know.  I read the play a couple of times before I read the commentary, so I wasn’t pre informed. I really like the way that Eve can ‘see’ certain things and how when her sight returns, it becomes a curse.  You may to have to indicate this quite strongly to the audience but it’s a bold and exciting idea.

CONSIDERATIONS FOR THE NEXT DRAFT

I have a few suggestions for the next draft (and I really hope you continue with this play).  Firstly it would be to add some more movement to scene one it as it’s currently a little static.  I’m wondering if Eve could get up from the piano and be doing something – getting dressed perhaps in her evening finery?  Panacea could offer to help her lace her boots or maybe at some point she could loosen Eve’s corset so she can breathe or brush her hair?  You could even have Eve trying to find things which have been placed among the audience – depending on whether you want the audience involved or not.

(I recently went to a promenade production of ‘Jane Eyre’ in a stately home.  At one point, the actress playing Jane had placed the sketches she was going to show to Rochester on a piano and an audience member was leaning on the piano without realising.  There was an awkward un-Bronte moment as Jane tried to yank the sketches from under the audience member’s elbow!)

Because Panacea comes across as a slightly mystical character who just shows up, I wonder if she could be slightly earthier, in contrast to Eve’s more romantic language.   She does have some lovely moments such as her laughter over how useless mirrors are to her, but as much of the play is between her and Eve, and she is a magical creature, perhaps making her the more down to earth seeming would contrast more brightly with her supernatural gifts.  See my L4 comment.

In the final scene there is quite a bit of explanation and it feels just a bit squashed.  With maybe ten or fifteen minutes more you could find a way to blend in the back story a little more but I understand the difficulty of covering an entire play in eighteen minutes.

Overall, I think you’ve written a big, brave play, which tackles big subjects.  It has flaws and needs some development but it’s part of your development as a writer that you take some risks, and personally, I don’t think you can really tell whether a play has legs until you’ve heard it spoken out loud by other people.  But I’ve read it out loud and it packs a punch.

You’ve probably already heard of the London Playwrights Blog but if not, they publish opportunities every week.  There’s no substitute for

http://www.londonplaywrightsblog.com/

COMMENTARY

In your commentary you discuss the process of writing the play, in comprehensive detail including the difficulties, and with references to course materials and a commendably large amount of outside reading.

As this is an MA, a high level of both analysis and presentation is required, and your presentation is fine here.  It can be helpful when you are sick of the sight of your script/story to give it to a trusted friend or at least leave it a while to give yourself some space.

You don’t have to agree with course or outside materials, either, just show that you have reflected on the ideas within and show how they might have affected your own creative choices.    It’s also helpful to explain briefly what you intend to reflect on – such as characterisation, structure and dialogue (maybe picking one area you feel confident in and another where you may feel less confident).  Your tone is good, in that you are aware of your own style and what you are trying to achieve without adopting the I-have-achieved-a masterwork-and-now-I-will-reflect-on-aspects-of-its-awesomeness. Instead your tone is curious and questing and always willing to learn.

Thank you for the peer group references.  You have always been very active on the forums.  Also your references are very good.

I’ve given you a high merit for both the script, and the commentary, an overall high merit pass of 82%  As mentioned, scene one is a little static, and the final scene has a slightly ‘expositiony’ feel, but these are very fixable.  What I would suggest now for the script is to read out loud and perhaps workshop it as the most difficult bit is letting it out of your head and into the mouths and bodies of actors.  You’ve done really well Tasha and taken risks with your writing.  Well done.

If you have any questions please feel free to get in touch.

Kind Regards

MY  TUTOR

I can’t believe it’s Easter already. This will be the first Easter where me and my family don’t go and see my Gran in her care home. I’ve mixed feelings about this.

I don’t get to see my gran – 😦

I don’t have to go into a care home this year 🙂

credit to all the care workers out there who deserve a hike up on their wage. We should invest gratitude and time and resources to the people who look after the vulnerable people in society – in my opinion- of course.

We are all going to my Ma’s house on Sunday (family tradition). Gran will be in our thoughts.

How do other people celebrate Easter?

Happy-Easter-300x182

❤ Daisy xoxo

Goofy syndrome

Mouthwash gargle soprano interlude

Still damned if I do or don’t by my inner feud.

Can’t Darwiniate   😉 like a bird fish off the fly

grow a pair and touch the sky.

Sunshine intervenes, always with this static state of mind.

If I started to grow and extend a branch – could it be so bad as to what I find?

Life needs nurture – decay -70 pounds of envy watching Nervosa images online.

Scales de harmonise ‘we are family’ tune

burning the bridge -wasting so much of this vessels time.

Come out and play and invest in cherished moments

priceless .

This choleric temperament pillaged every time I stand my ground spasmodic

crisis.

Fits jump to the left -turn your cap back to front and leave me in the wind.

Some don’t mind making a life out of lying down – this vessel scowls in an impediment.

Little dwarfs fall from the sky.

Black holed theories bask in the sun,

nebulous erasure

convinced counting blue sheep will make sense

constantly on the run.

Never have to leave current occupied dwelling

yet, so convinced I’ve spun around the globe and back- so quick to reject love.

Trees I planted.

Trees  I denied oxygen -another one down from the felling.

breathe of grit

fluoride is the key to mutate this smile.

Disposition in denial.

government extends VAT -we all walking the green mile.

Pencil rapping,

wooden table – fraternise with education.

Anxiety levels cut off all circulation

 Leaving all my bluds homeless without an occupation.

Distress call.

Look above you for the murmuration.

Gone gainst my nature – this character is in a constant dance with eternal damnation.

One theory for all of this!

Life straight through to death;

so many of us become motherless.

Sorrow in faces- show me the money.

natures green is the only path to the land of pure honey.

Extinction of the masses. Humans are not as smart as we think.

The creator reveals a divine plan the golden ratio printed on everything.

No time to blink.

Floppy child syndrome, fetus rest dormant for 36 weeks.

Blood, tears and love -fallible, selfish

there are side effects to every action each of us seeks.

Fear destroys love.

Hate is Its biggest symptom.

Ever seen a child frown sliding down into his daddies arms?

rapid growth,

we could be forgiven for thinking

Life is a phantom.

Feed into reality.

Make happiness a closer eventuality.

exacerbate the problem until people do that point saved for those deemed suffering from stupidity.

Set the sound wave.

my biggest moan is why can’t I be a shade of norm Amish tone?

Forever on the collect call waiting for the silence on the other end of the phone.

Heartbreaking words to have everything

and denounce my own.

 

Talking head challenged a stroke

*Things/thoughts society urge people not to talk about or write about*

If you believe everything you read then I should have gone into the media business.

 Meg!

 thanks for this.  Meg is highly artistic and creative lady who only sees a hint of her talents.

She is a friend and the reason I’m writing this post.

song inserted to listen/lyrics at end of post  (optional) – It all ties up at the end……

 

DISSIDENT DAISY THOUGHTS

How to know if you are not a weakling sap?

You do everything wrong.

starve yourself, stay in bed, pretend everything is okay, hoover crap up your nose, watch and wait for your grandma struggle with death for 3 days.

Forget about what makes you well and happy.

Fallout with everyone you would die for

Think you have ignored your daughter’s needs  and are dismal parent

then, still say

N0.

I’m sorting out my priorities.

H20 AND O2  🙂

moment by moment

I tumbled a fair way -off the waggon wheel.

This is not just about drugs – in fact, drugs are probably the only dysfunctional part of me that looks so horrific and doomed because it is so visceral.

People can’t see my other issues.

Okay, maybe a bit of weight loss- not so shocking that people turn around and gawp. I cover it up well.

I slipped off the waggon – mentally and physically many months before I decided to reach out for coke.

Point is, I did a three-week drug binge – hated every moment of it.

It took the announcement of my Gran being given the short straw of life to stop fucking about.

She may or may not be in heaven. I hope she is.

This may or may not be a piece of fiction.  I hope it is.

Research for my EMA?   ( one of my characters is addicted to drugs and is homeless)

well, he was when I last looked at the script back in November…..

I told the supplier not to supply me. He respectively hasn’t and I respectively haven’t had the desire to ask.

I  don’t like the way drugs or alcohol make me feel or act. I don’t like how denying myself food I like and love makes me feel.

I don’t like what the symptoms of my issues does to my personality, how I behave when caught up in it.

People slip everyday.

How many accident claim adverts have you seen lately?

Slip up, is what meant. 😉

Most people don’t talk about it.

What have I got to lose?

I have everything to gain.

My integrity.

War is peace

Truth is Freedom……….

Ignorance is strength ? 

ha! got you 

George Orwell is a pseudonym  😀 

My family…….

bloggers who know the real me – bloggers like Meg.

People in my real life may read this and go………………

I’m not telepathic and I never ever want to be.

I DON’T GIVE A FUCK, WHAT YOU THINK. EXCEPT TO THE ONES, I SPEAK TO BUT I ONLY SPEAK TO PEOPLE WHO GET ME.  ( maybe that would sound better in a ghetto lingo)

I’m on the mend. I still have issues – just cos I’m not hoovering shit up my nose doesn’t mean I’m  100% healed.

What about your business Daisy?

Business is growing.

How did you support your habit?

I rented out my body …

(FACT OR FICTION )

does it matter?

I have a personal account and a company business that is separate and I have another issue where what I would spend on food gives me overflow money to spend on prostitutes, porn, dunking doughnuts, Cider, cars, gambling, clothes, shoes,  drugs – illegal and legal self-medicating.

Yes, love a bit of Erotica   – Anais Nin 😉

 

The point is the waggon is not electric and it is in sight. I’m running alongside it.

What about your Master’s degree, Daisy?

Doing it. On track.  One more scipt to write and year one down.

I can tell you -100% truth that having mental health issues and reverting to my default coping mechanism has done NADA for my creativity.

Me being me and writing from my heart and keeping my head just about screwed on is why I have managed to come out of this with flowers blooming out my ass.

I digress.

Bit of a rant…

Thank you,

Meg

for the tag.

I TAG (optional)

BROOKE @ THE UTOPIA UNIVERSE

CHARLIE@ CHARLIE ZERO THE POET

I LOVE A CHALLENGE.

I LOVE MUSIC.

Combine the two together and I have put myself up for a HEALTHY CHALLENGE.

It’s going to be a busy couple of weeks sorting out the funeral with my Ma.

I need to help others to dig myself out of my own shit storm.

I’m committing myself to this challenge because I can.

A song I currently love is this

It gives me hope that the youth of today are thinking like this young lady.

Enjoy…..

 

[Verse 1]
My quiet observations on the bus city people lost trust
Maudley’s out patients are shouting with the pavements
They looking rough can’t get to grips so they end up looking worse than shit
Maybe if I can see who there talking too I might talk to them to so they can prove
The spirit never lies but before I get to try the clouds open up and let god cry
Why is this white lady nervous cause 3 black youths come on so she checking were her purse is
Make me feel nervous like they ain’t my country like they don’t really want me
But mummy always love me I never had a daddy it was me and my mummy
Mummy was my daddy I can either cry or see it as funny
How you can have a child and then just leave
Now I’m walking around with my heart on my sleeve cause I’m effected anytime anybody leave
You can see my scars and hear my silent screams
I been reading books to analyse my dreams and to me it seems
The only chance we get to make sense of it is when we put our heads down a little bit
That’s why I’m spitting it cause each one teach one and you can take it how you want don

[Hook]
Right now I got a lot of work to do
I gotta smooth out my edges
Eat more veges
Listen to my elders
Vibe with my peers
Confront my fears and
Finish this album
Right now I got a lot of work to do
I gotta represent the youth
Speak more truth
Eat more fruit
Get wise with my years
Confront my fears and
Finish this album

[Verse 2]
But it seems I get side tracked it’s like a mind trap I get a call real late bout were the foods at
Cause certain man a certain place got certain food to taste so my Nikes are laced
And I was never really one to stay awake through a working day for them little bit pay yo
This nine to five is just killing me slowly but quitting is for quitters so I wait until they fire me
But now no one will hire me cause I got more lies in my CV than a pro’s had STD’s
When will they see I was born to reign entrapment is my pain I need to feel alive again
I need a man that compliments my style overstand I’m this way until I die
Has ambitions of his own so ovastand i don’t wanna be alone I just need a little time in my zone
This one goes out to my shotters in the alleys were all brothers and sisters were all family
All my sisters trying to raise there babies all the youth man with court cases crazy
It’s like the smarter you are the bigger your worries stupid people are lucky trust me
This one goes out to my people with ambition I’m still learning I’m still trying but for now

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Honesty is courage and since I got the heart of a lion then there’s no sense in lying
I portray my life over violins no matter what it brings least I’m being real
When I look at my future I fear failure I fear the fact that you might not like me
I know I’m skilled but just maybe slightly what if my light don’t shine so brightly
I’m scared of that I’m telling you the truth I’m scared of that
What if the doctor said you couldn’t have children
What if the system they tried to topple what I’m billing better living for all my ghetto children
And I don’t mean were you live I mean your state of mind
Cause ghettos not just a place ghetto is a vibe
And I don’t need no boastie words or complicated flows
If I know what I gotta do then I flow
But sometimes I get tired sometimes I lose faith I guess that’s the reason that we got to church
Cause when you at the bottom of the barrel it hurts need something to believe in and God works You think spiritual is just hocus pocus what you really saying is you have not noticed
Inside us all is a silent protest you can acknowledge or ignore but me

SPEECH DEBELLE – FINISH THIS ALBUM

ANAIS NIN IMAGE CREDIT

Star crossed other

Never knew there was a word to describe their combined fate.

Never knew Shakespeare studied the stars and knew much about lovers who mate.

Never knew they were lined up as opposites-never to align on the same side.

Thoughts of opposites attract are magic tinted Methos applied,

so people can trust to confide

in each other.

Always end up leaving one for another.

A summer’s day, sitting, drag remnants on a Marlboro tab.

Forlorn, unhopeful.

Destiny reeled her in like an unlicensed cab.

Doomed. Life growing inside – feelings of  Rigor Mortis was all she could summon to transpire.

The truth was the loss of her will

her desire.

She had lost that inner fire.

Under a freckled thumb- tangled in a webbed lie

through it the sun still shone.

A shadow emerged from the light, and a heart realized its given art.

Fairytale savior- a hero always ready with a smile.

Swallowing down screams.

Shamed

into a false smile.

Their eyes connect – should she tell him what she has done?

It was never to be.

Swallowed a lethal poison in an effort to be free.

Yes, she intended to take the life with her she had growing inside.

It was a desperate plea.

Shades of nausea, don’t you see?

Coins fall to the floor along with all the great works of Wordsmith Shakespeare.

It was easier to think unlovable thoughts

imagined hatred in speech bubble form.

To hear him say you are not for me

 distilled in clouds of fear.

Dramatic scene.

Bus stop revellers turn heads

eager for a spectacle.

hot tempered

He walked away.

Not trusting him still burns her cheeks

 to the same Fahrenheit, she felt that day.

Rain lands on penetrable skin,

wanting much more and expecting the very least,

set the fickle tone for the rest of this cycle of the ‘beck and call’.

Inevitably Seasons passed.

A winters day,

he called out her name.

His smile cleared up the fog of habitual trudging through the every day

society

blurs into arts of abstract- more imposing than some great display admired from afar.

Swept up with day to day folk uncluttered by star-crossed philosophy.

Nothing mattered

Only now,

another chance to show him- somehow he would think.

that girl -WOW! 

Fight for her

somehow.

over imbibed, arguments stippled in blackouts.

New starts

fresh

with sand she dug up for her own grave.

Dirty bitten down nails,

silent punishment for things that could never be undone.

Who’s to say who was truly in the wrong?

She can’t remember much

past walking into the house promising the most fun.

Seasons changed

again.

Dressed and forgiven – ready to wed the worthiest white knight to ever traverse her path.

Dichotomy sanctifies such a union.

Tear’s splotch faces, toasts, fuzzy memories.

Birds out

no need for a tuppence

Freely sung the newlyweds a blessing.

Something along the lines of tinkles chimes and her laugh.

Afterthoughts cushioned  by rose petals

a lavender fusion

flagellation on self

imposed by guilt

deepening the confusion.

How do we wake, make our move if caught in the spin cycle of punishing our souls?

A dare,

 her thoughts told her.

If indeed they were merely star-crossed

She would willfully find a way.

Barefooted, she soberly walked into a live fire burning on coals.

 Figure out what she felt she owed or indeed was it all a division in her head.

Passions stunned into a state of arousal

 Who’s to say if it fulfilled her?

Tears wanton to overflow

nearly lost sense of all ground.

 37 days she had not bled.

There are only four seasons.

 All continues

 winter clearly signaling death and rebirth to come.

His posturing lingered long in her mind.

She fathomed

reasoned

 the duresse of her thoughts;

permanently fixtured her by the spun out  Catherine wheels.

Clarity comes in an obscure fashion.

Manner and presentation are not facts.

Facts -harsh and cold.

 unveiled decision in an exposed mind, scuttling in the dark

not even aware he let loose his redundant rats.

Infiltrate every corner of her mind.

Passively they sit by,

osmosis eyes watch a happy family in a tourniquet.

Forced to apply more pressure.

Open up the wound.

Calculated a reactive to get one man’s truth.

Perhaps Star-crossed lovers are indeed something to be forgot .

Her silence is her answer.

Silence sees her own worth, she sees clarity it doesn’t bother her if the passion died,

Along with the whereabouts of his existence

Shadows move all the time,

even in Beirut.

She walks along her path with a smile on her face.

Her silence doesn’t require her to look up for another clue.

 He was never a star-crossed lover but merely another.

* remember: just because one person/people reveals their opinion or truth about what they think of you to you. This is not the whole truth or even half of it. You are not other people’s opinions. Never let people wear you down into believing you are merely what say or what they think you are. No one has their shit together all the time or even most of the time 😀

Made in china- app by- product

 

  Brain waves traveling faster than a dinosaur fleeing from  the ice age,

Technology blunders -slow down the creative process stage.

Running up energy expenditure – Tabs kept, monitor my blood temperature.

Life in the fast lane – when chugging on a mere 4 Gigabytes.

Tridecyl loses faith in Darwin when he has to fly for his survival – true it was one of the darkest nights.

Faith in the modern world -lost to a time warp. Panacea, cure me of this analytic google oddity.

Install second sight into the eyes of my alter ego- Eve.  She summons heapings of mutated gravities.

Staring at a screen for t-t-t- tick-tocking explosive minutes. Circle an hour. Loops of the underground.

I’m about to reload my patience when the page wants me to bin it.

Aw snap, I’m unresponsive.

Let me react and pummel my fist into your unintelligible emotionless sieve,

What a Git!

Scene two: Vladimir overrides scarface in tissues. Vision is seen by the one with the innocent of faces

Judgment found in a  conjoined pair of twins named  Iris – gossiping needleworkers feeding on human abscesses.

The world is a little colder when the transition is slow to advance.

Emoji disappoint in a world centered around wired up individuals dancing to senseless  trance

The fury, the muster.

I fluster.

I  gusto in guster.

I make these words up for I feel the growth of Ire expounding in my dog – yeah, he’s called Buster. 😀

This weed puts in an effort when dealing with humans and technology.

Flee from this dystopic, utopic disadvantage in perceptive oncology.

The virtues of patience feed into my supply of Prozac and duloxetine.

This shit should keep me buzzing.

I shouldn’t have to  pay to name a star

A telescope is not in need to see whose receptors disassociate delafossite from the normal homo sapien.

Clusters of worry – mind map in colors I can’t pronounce.

I look to the future – fish eyes – sideways – breathing gills trumpet out the word: denounce.

Grasshopper legs glued to three lucky stripe trainers – The past needs to catch up.

 I’m in a zazen mind – self-improvement Tetris game – this retro girl ain’t going to get much tamer. 😉

Throw shapes at me –  Elsa blows tubular notes  of  ‘just let it go’

Keep your omega fish fingers away from me. I must move on, warm up.

I need my organic  glow.

Widgets, apps, cloud configuration tampers with my whacked out imagination

I can’t hear what you are saying cos I’m fired up on neurological cylinders shouting:  God speed – don’t talk to the meth head.

Frustration is conjured not by magic or by art – The modern twisted sentiment of living in a world of Mozart concerto’s lost to simpatico’s heart.

Strive for Success  – driven to please all my slave drivers in leather bind-ups.

The worst of them reside not in other homes but in my brain – senile resident wind ups.

Cover my tracks – Twiggy never reached the thigh touch gap.

Her phone got flushed down the toilet bowl talking to launch a brand new app.

Lost for words. I curse in contemporary verse.

I am contemporary – juxtaposed with an old fashioned queer like pose.

Take me as I am –  not facile – trust j’ai  complique.

The effort and work are worth it – I’m not some donkey punch with Barbie doll hair.

Local shag. com, you missed that site at the bypass.

My heart stopped beating when I saw the cadaver’s mask slip – gassed me up.

Tosser tossed me like a deflated sex doll on the tarmac-

a mere Carcass.

Look up!

One offer. This is what I can give you.

One chance to redeem your coupon – I may be a dreamer – you can carry on  with your infantile teasing

I’m schismatic  when it comes to how I reach the finish line

Who’s checked in first class to a welcome troupe of genuine, empowering people who know how to demonstrate what they are truly feeling?

*Inspired by deadlines, laptops crashing, building websites, fickle people and the urge to write some waffle

 

The Subvertist

*featured image photo credit-Francesca Woodman, Untitled, 1978 

It’s not every day one receives  recognition,

So thanks, Ramjet ye olde poetic punk for this solid admonition.

I love your writing style and sudden denouement friends,

If god should save anyone it should be those who seek to live for alternative ends.

I nominate those who welcomed me into their fold

2nd star to the Left, straight on ’til morning
Brave and Reckless
Howl Davies
Fallen Alone
lois e. linkens
Malicia’s Malebolge
Max Meunier- Dissociative Void
Mick’s Neon Fog
Private Bad Thoughts
Samantha Lucero
The Dirty Limerick
The Hero’s Inferno
The Lithium Chronicles
The Writings of Jasper Kerkau

Idle this journey is not- when we realize true énouement of breaking free from the mold.

Acceptance and humbled – I did not foresee this weeds place in the garden of life.

September 2015 – I turned  my face to the sun and bloomed, a unique individual, with  valid petals  to share with  society;

my heart need not bleed by stabbing it with a knife.

Opened up myself for all to see – vulnerable and strong -I took a risk and said this is who I am.

That leap found me on the other side, looking back -in relief,

I realized that nobody need accept me – I already had found within me – my most loyal fan.

Don’t hesitate, hit publish and know that you can.

God send the haters and their thoughts into a file befittingly named spam.

Inspiration can come from the experiences and people who we must never worry ourselves with that they never gave a damn.

Be an outsider, don’t conform to the norm if it doesn’t balance out with your body, mind, and soul.

You won’t stand alone for long.

Flip the anarchic bird and keep strong.

 Self-belief gravitates towards others who have a similar goal.

THIS IS MY ACCEPTANCE IMAGE   FOR THE BLOGGER RECOGNITION AWARD.

My favourite  painting of Wassily Kadinsky. I first discovered his work in 2005.

That is beautiful which is produced by the inner need, which springs from the soul.

Wassily Kandinsky