Tag Archives: education

Bloom

#GOATBAHS  

This guy can do no wrong in terms of creating a textured, engaging soundscape.

I’m trying to incorporate WRAP into my life.

My mental health took an obnoxious downturn.

The way I’m seeing life at this moment is that by having self-awareness of what keeps me well & knowing what my triggers.

Thus educating myself, Reinforces it into my brain by questioning what I’ve thought about . This helps me to organise the structure of my thoughts.

This will lead to knowing what structured thoughts to keep & discard.

Filter them more rationally.

Weed the garden in a manner of speaking.

I digressed a long time ago.

Wellness tools ?

What makes me happy?

Being around my daughter. Laughing with her and being more chilled.

By being more savvy and economical with money, I’m able to focus on my business with the retro clothes & handbags.

I’m wanting to engage with people in diferent ways again. I’m prepared to read and listen more to what other people say.

The sun shine is an element not to be underestimated in its ability to awaken our body and mind.

I’m communicating with my husband more. We have made plans to go out as a family . A simple movie & meal.

Time spent with the people I adore is time well spent.

This leads me on to my triggers that I’m falling back into my old ways.

Drinking too much/ any alcohal.

How I feel and respond or react to how I feel about myself after eating with my body issues ?

With an Eating disorder ( and like many illnesses), the only time people like you & me have a break is when we sleep.

If we sleep?

Sleep is a huge trigger for how I function.

It’s the only time we get a break from out thoughts & our life whom we share with others.

Willingly or unwillingly.

Please, fly with those birds who scintillate your soul into an exquisite murmuration.

Is it a blessing or a curse having insight into our various issues?

I’m keeping busy.

The sun is shining & I have a purpose.

Life is tough. I love to find the happiness that comes with the simple pleasure that my family and I deserve.

GOAT Coldcut

Coldcut -English electric trio (making electronic music for 30 years.)

This was the first U.K. act to release a sample-based record.

It’s so fine!

Its a mash-up of  James Brown, Public enemy ‘you’re gonna get yours’,

There are so many awesome samples. I can’t name them all.

Erm…

  • The good the bad & the ugly

  • Grandmaster Flash -the message.

  • I wanna be like you  -monkey song( classic sample)It all dope & fits with the sunny weather in the U.K.

 

I had to go check out whosampled.com  & their website states that the entire track contains 35 song samples.  Bwahaha!

 

 

They went on to do another track called ‘Beats and Pieces’ that samples Vivaldi (if you are into call centre music – just kidding)

Catch 22 #InternationalWomensDay

Fall – leaves turn shades of browns and greens.

my heart dips and I don’t feel that same sense of summer’s beams.

Alone. I look to my left. Creativity shines- glitter, stilettos- latex, white faux fur coats. All legs.

Like a string of pearls flung across a room,  a musky scent wafts across my midst.

Temptations persist. Glamour. Warmth is all I seek. Summer, why do you have to be so cruel?

I know if I cross over to the other side – I’ll be feeling the warmth – it will be pimped out inbox ring styles – I won’t have time to dodge the fists.

My body will burn up an exotic shade of hues. I will have no rest.

Hell is the other side of Summers gluttonous jazz bassline.

One hit. One vein. Blood – artificial nirvana could infiltrate my being.

I won’t have to think of the biting cold that is ringing in my ears. Muffled will be the ice cone, frozen on the edge of my nose. It doesn’t matter who sees that I have been seen.

Bus shelters full, spikes erect from the corporate underground – I can’t sit down. I know it takes fewer muscles to smile than frown.

Energy is all I have to see me through this cycle of undomesticated abuse. October may be  Domestic abuse awareness month.

If I hadn’t left my keeper, I would still have a roof over my head.

A blanket.

I would still be touched.

 Roughed up.

Better the devil you know – I know every one of his moves. I know when to dissociate –

detach my mind

from my body.

Floating above the marital, martial art stylised bed – I see myself and that devil I married, grabbing folds of my skin. He doesn’t notice the smell of the new conditioner I bought at Asda or how soft the sheets feel now they have been newly spun.

Dryer. I’m dry. He doesn’t notice the lack of moisture. He doesn’t notice that all of that fluid has shot up to my eyeballs. I refuse to let them free flow – I am not her. I’m floating.

Fly on the wall. Caught up in a spiders web. I have to watch. It doesn’t matter if I have a crick in my neck – oh hang on a minute is he choking me?

Leftover food languishing in the sink drain. He switched the waste disposal on to automatic.

Arrested, I am back in bed, under him. Time to vogue with my lips and give him a little pucker.

These white sheets have turned red in his need to let off steam. I come out in blisters hovering underneath his vapour.

Turn my neck – feels like I need a box of throat lozenges for having to get all deep throat.

5 am flashing in stimulant green.

I’m 5 months pregnant. I am going to be late.

Grab the nearest decent clothes. Pull-on my Adidas trainers. Scrape my hair up into a ponytail.

Finally the motivation to go on the run. I don’t have to time myself. I know his schedule well.

An Olympic torch passes into my hand. I’m running for freedom. Liberty is my destination.

I can start over.

Spring – blues, violets, colours in a perfect union – uncompressed. Naturally dressed.

For the first time in months, I feel like I belong. I too am a medley of colours. I blend in.

Natures milkshake collects in my breasts –  4 months to go until I give birth to a miracle of pure life.

Not branded a colour – just innocence – a chance to see a light – work on my soul and tackle it all. This is the only cure.

Vanilla.

I am no Killer.

Life goes in cycles. It passes by fast. There are no traffic jams when you have to pick up your feet and walk.

Eyes cast down, belly protruding.

Christian volunteers crouch down next to me- hand me a card.

Die and be reborn.

They can help me. I just have to give my old life to our saviour. I’ve never met him but he sounds

Forgiving, comforting, caressing- a handwash with extra Aloe vera – calming properties.

All I have to do is offer my unborn child to him and I can enter paradise with the rest of my weary comrades.

Eyes raise up to the bitter sky. I’ve always thought whatever is up there twinkling and winking down at me is having a far better time than me.

My unborn deserves a place in heaven. Earth only promises scars and wild jungle roots to keep it grounded to the spot.

The ultimate sacrifice.

Did I fold in with this cult out of cowardice?

I will drink my poison.

Maybe this winter I will be reunited with the one that let out a sudden cry.

Lead me not into temptation. I lie down, no need to be afraid, child. I close my eyes and sigh.

Hope is my last premise.

* Inspired by domestic violence awareness month*

 

mainimage_0
OCTOBER 2016 (IMAGE SOURCED FROM GOOGLE)

 

HERE IS A LINK TO A  POST I WROTE,ON 11TH MAY 2016 , ABOUT MY OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCES IN A D.V. RELATIONSHIP , TO RAISE DOMESTIC ABUSE AWARENESS IN MY COMMUNITY AND   SOCIETY.

CLICK ON THE PINK HIGHLIGHTED LINK BELOW

THE FREEDOM PROGRAMME

*photo credit Rhode Island Francesca Woodman, Benjamin Moore *

 

 

A classless post.

A classless post

Throwback Thursday

They didn’t get why a white girl with seemingly everything would wanted to live a ghetto life – have black boyfriends and live in squalor.

One thing having class did help me with is get me out of a lot of trouble

Before you say money doesn’t buy

Carry on reading..

in all honesty..

Wednesday’s WOW or woe poetry prompt

Today’s creative writing prompt was tough. It may not be great a catastrophic arrangement of words but at least I had a go 😉

For today’s poem, use at least three of the six words listed below in your poem (title counts). Three is the minimum, but you know I’m going to try use all six of these:

  • sidereal

  • recruit

  • magnetic

  • compact

  • whippoorwill

  • carbon

    Writers Digest

Starry Intentions forgotten -blamed the sidereal;

Diminished hope hides a worthy recruit.

Bribe a whippoorwill -reclaim my song

for if lost -renders me carbonless.

insight’s breathe revitalises my garden

compact within . Evaluated beliefs reveal magnetic strength .

 

 

Have a go! Check out the link below

WRITERS DIGEST

for loads of writing ideas and writing shizzle

The power of choice

*Life is busy again -I choose to post this 10 days before I am “supposed” to because I think our MENTAL HEALTH needs care and attention every single day*

Inspired by taking a head ache tablet and the film ‘the Matrix’

It’s a bit abstract and simple at the same time.

Using the matrix as a metaphor to raise MENTAL HEALTH awareness and reduce stigma

What if I asked you This?

What pill will you choose?

img_20170930_191653_4141668701966.jpg

Remain ignorant about mental health issues ,or acknowledge and seek to educate yourself?

If you believe you have a brain and a body -then it makes sense that you have Mental health and Physical health. Both exist. Both can fluctuate along a spectrum of Good- Bad.

Yes. I am aware that the picture shows only one tablet. Think of this one tablet as how  the status quo deal with Mental health -good and bad.

I’m not saying there hasn’t been progress. There has. We have a long way to go still.

Society wants to understand IT and at the same time ignore that IT exsists.

We can’t have both.

 In my opinion,

to think you can live with both:

understanding and ignorance  is INSANITY.

This is what keeps us from understanding and evolving into the mental well being matrix system. 😉

‘ the body cannot live without the mind’

Morpheus from ‘the matrix’

Here is a link to world mental health U.K. website –

it has articles, blog stories and loads of information on MENTAL WELLBEING -good and bad.

I live in West Yorkshire, U.K.

support links for people in my community here

its OK to talk

Hope Mental health charity- Calderdale  recovery college.

Healthy minds  Calderdale services

Wellness

Recovery

Action

Plan

Information in the U.K.

I have done the 5 day  co facilliator  W.RA.P.  and I’ve done the 12 week  program.

I’ve been involved with many of these services  or know people who have in some different capacities and reasons.

I BELIEVE ENGAGING AND REACHING OUT WORKS.

I FIND WRAP HAS HELPED ME.

Invest time in learning about the Wellness Recovery Action Program 5 core values.

What is your understanding  of these values? Click on each underlined link to read another person’s definition of WRAPS core values

  1. HOPE

  2. EDUCATION

  3. PERSONAL RESPONSIBLITY

  4. SUPPORT

  5. SELF ADVOCACY   – (it took me a long time to understand this)

SHORT INTRODUCTION TO WRAP

 

My premature message for #WORLDMENTALHEALTHDAY 10TH OCTOBER 2017

 

SINK,SWIM,FLY,CRAWL-how I fought social services to get my child back

First posted 2015

Content: How I got my daughter back-  and issues of control/ being out of control

Well bloggers we are already into week three on blogging101 course. Today’s topic is about when you hit writer’s block and using a prompt and to make that prompt personal to your blog.  Let me know what you think.

MY PROMPT:’SINK OR SWIM’ 

This morning I woke up with a feeling of loss and  a heavy anchor weighing me down. I should have been buzzing. I was three hours away from meeting up with a girl who works with a mental health charity and to work together on a one off workshop to close the stigma between the volunteers and the people they help. Below is all I had to type this morning: warning alert: very woe woe woe is me and not WOW WOW at all. BEFORE I CONTINUE: It came about that THIS LOVELY LADY has recently launched her first novel. How amazing is that? I can’t wait to read it. 

THIS IS WHAT I MANAGED TO WRITE  YESTERDAY MORNING :

Why do I only see ugly? What is wrong with me.I can’t love my cat or daughter or partner cos I have trouble accepting me. Why is outer beauty so important to have when I see the beauty of people in all their different guises. My heart has been rung out . The salty ness stings increasingly as it courses through my veins. pumping –you are ugly  you are not good enough.Why now? why these feelings now? My next challenge – like a bull waiting , snorting – A Red mist descends. Red mist that at the end will be..  I had writers block I couldn’t think of anything poetic to say. All words seemed shit and I felt shit.  

So let me get real and tell you what is really on my mind My head has been doing 360 degree turns lately like that possessed chick in every movie about hauntings and possession.  Except it has been me not some movie.  My weight has been going up and  up – I have had no control. Even with me eating healthily. The numbers have  kept on  going up. I have been getting a  daily beasting from the  Goddess of hard core exersises -Jillean Micheals. No bullshit. No pansy-ing out. No quitting. I am no quitter.Not a sinker. No Titanic. Why is this fucker in my head fucking with me now. I’m finally getting somewhere with myself and what I want to invest all my working time in.

Yup, so I have really been struggling with my mind for a few months Isn’t that crazy? Me wanting to help people who are struggling? I’m struggling. . I had to let go of the figures on the scale. I’ve never done that. How did I  do it?  well,  I decided  I like eating (yes, Anorexics can like eating)  and I eat healthily  already so, I was not about  to go hungry and become ill again. No, this is my time. I wasn’t going to start taking overdoses to cope with the madness inside me – skewered. grilling me .It was bedlam in my head. True bedlam.

I stopped weighing myself every day. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT EITHER.  I carried on with 40 minutes of  an intense cardio workout . I didn’t carry on doing 3-4 hour workouts like I have done previously. I did not start monitoring my fluid intake.  In fact I did the opposite and btw  my skin looks the best it ever has. I had to get moving. Get out the house and live.  The critters inside jittering and chattering and  fluttering  chaotically in my mind could carry on.I  carried on with life.

I got out there and I followed through on my next goal. I have my daughter back . I’m already a student with full BA(hons) in Arts and the humanities. I’ve booked our wedding for next year. The one I was never ever going to have. I am finally in a place to help people.

I don’t care if I don’t get paid I’m getting so much back from this.

You know what is even more chaotic than my recent state of mind?  okay -ready?  The training I have been put on to do, is all stuff I worked out on my own and with my family when social services wanted to put my daughter up for adoption.

Why didn’t they get HOMESTART in first?

Or THE FAMILY INTERVENTION TEAM?

How come they didn’t tell me about a 12 week course called called WRAP ( WELLNESS RECOVERY ACTION PLAN)  that helps a person put together a support package if a person’s  health starts to get distressed?

This is not some new concept or specialised training. It’s been going on for years and being taught in prisons and schools today. Why didn’t any of the social workers I know signpost me in these  directions?

I stayed up into   the early hours of the morning for weeks. Researching online to find an answer to convince  social services that I could be a mom and  have times when my mental health isn’t all that cracking.  In my research I came across something called ‘ the circle of protection’ (very Lion king – the zulu bit -youknow what I’m on about? an epiphany or something.

Why had none of these highly qualified social workers, guardians of the court, these professionals.. but me thought to put a contingency plan in place?

When my daughter  was put under an interim care order. obviously, I  attended court. The letter for the court date arrived days after the court hearing. I was lucky that I had my family to give me the heads up. I didn’t know that the  alleged assault charges against me , that had been dropped (because their was no physical evidence to suggest that I shook my 12 week old daughter) was only the beginning of  an incredibly long fucken journey home. I was like Hercules and his 12 labours.

Back to the morning of 14/12- Confused, in a state of panic -The former manager of social services – I like to call her Miss Hannigan-you know from ‘Annie’ the movie?  I swear she looks and acts like Miss hannigan – every professional I described her too- could not keep a straight face.

Do I hear happiness here?
Do I hear happiness here?

They knew exactly who I was on about. Anyway, so after court, the wooly and rather snivelly  cardigan came into view- like a red flag. Her voice was the second thing I noticed ,she sounded like one of Marges sisters from the simpsons.

I was like : Where is my daughter going? you can’t just take her from me!

She spluttered in that voice.  

Stop the drink- stop the shit and sort your life out . I wish she could take her own advice.

I found out about a 12 week group called the  FREEDOM PROJECT that was running in my neck of the woods. In a nutshell it is a 12 week group that helps women understand why we  enter and stay in abusive relationships. I took Miss Hannigans advice  and self- referred myself to my   LOCAL SUBSTANCE MISUSE TEAM and  I  engaged with a wonderful woman to work out what my drink issues were and how I could manage them. We tried various plans until we  both agreed  that whilst all this was going on, drinking was probably not going to be drunk for the ‘right reasons’. I went to every mother- baby group I could could go to.  I could only see my daughter 10  hours per week. I missed 7 contact sessions in 12 months. There was  a local contact centre only 5 minutes up the street from where I lived. I had no problems with anybody in that contact centre. Lots of positive feedback.  The contact worker who had become emotionally involved told us she had been taken off  as  our contact worker. Social services and my ex felt that the contact worker was being biased. It is not my fault that every other person who met him thinks the same thing. Whatever that may be.

So,a new contact lady comes on the scene. We did not mix well. It happens in life. I can’t love everyone 😀 Next thing I know and I was now taking  two buses to go and see my child – in a contact centre monitored by cctv like a criminal. This is how the dynamics of our relationship went. If I got on with spending time with my child and didn’t talk much with the contact worker-  she said I was being hostile. If I did chat with her -she said I was distracted and not mentally focused on my child. This contact person has no mental health qualification. Her job  is to collect children from carers/family homes and take them to  a ‘neutral’ meeting/ contact centre and to make sure the child or children get back home safely. She is a fucken flawed human. All her notes ( she was a fan of all the disney songs – those notes were just as agonizing to hear)  were being gurned  into the social workers reports.This is one opinion from someone who was not even qualified. It felt like she was there to prod and provoke a reaction out of me.

I asked the court to authorise  a hair strand test for alcohol and drugs  to be done. The test was only done 7-8 months after my baby was taken into foster care.  It came back negative that I was an alcoholic and drug taker. I am on prescription meds  so that obviously came up.  The non alcoholic levels  of drinking found in my hair proved to them I had drunk alcohol but not at the levels they were making out.From  the period  I decided  to go teetotal the levels had reduced even more.  It all  came back negative.

I was in a very violent and manipulative relationship. This  ahem.. man treat me like something he found in the gutter. He warped my mind.  My mental health was exacerbated in that relationship. I dealt with this issue and I don’t want to say more on here out of respect for my daughter. He walked away when he lost control. When my daughter is at an age she can make and formulate her own opinions  that will be the time I decide to give her the information about her paternal father and seek him out and ask him whatever questions she wishes too.

I paid nearly £400 to do a parenting course online because social services stated I could not do a certain group because my ex was attending it and my daughter had to be over 5 years of age.  He got on it because he has two sons under 18. I got my daughter back under a  full care order -on the 28/04/2013 .  She was not even three  years old and all of a sudden I could attend this 12 week government funded parenting course for free. I had THIS IRO ‘professional’ come into my home and threaten me. She tried to wind me up because I made a comment about her not even having met my daughter and she was the person to ratify the adoption plan. She sat on my living room suite and re-iterated that it was her that ratified the adoption plan and still held that view.  If I had a problem with her then I could change  IRO’s.

I looked her straight in the eyes and I said “NO, you and me are going to see this through to the end” -It was like something out of a western movie. Eyeballing one another.

“Yes. we will” she puffed out her chest and chuckled to her ‘henchman’ .The person she brought with her to intimidate me. What makes me want to poke out her eyehole is at the final LAC review meeting she was hugging me and saying I had taught her something about people with mental health issues and  she realised how ignorant she had been. This woman works with dozens of cases like mine everyday. Mental health is not a new endemic in society. I hope ,you the reader can see why I am ranting at this..

I always say ‘ I hold up my hands  I am far from being perfect‘. I would actually like this to be emgraved on my grave. I have said the phrase so many times.  The thing is  but I put in the effort in and they did not want to own up that they fucked up and I wasn’t what they read on paper and what they thought I would be like. ALL PEOPLE WITH MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ARE DELUDED RIGHT? HAVE NO SENSE OF REALITY..

Here is my point, It didn’t have to go straight to adoption but it was easy for them to place  my innocent  12 week year old child. Blue eyed  with blonde hair and  not soiled and tainted from being ragged around a defunkt system.  No behaviour issues. An easy adoption case. They call it ‘twin tracking’

Ha , you should have seen the  guardian’s face when I told her that the chances of my daughter being adopted after being told that mental health issues run in her paternal and or maternal family drops. She was 25% less likely to get adopted.  Oh they loved me. My legal team were ace. I communicated and I asked questions and I researched.

As a volunteer I have a ticket to go to this PARENTING AND MENTAL HEALTH CONFERENCE

I hope a few social workers will be there to learn something about mental health .

I’m not angry. I finally know why I went through all this shit. now I  can do the professional training and help other people.  I’m not bitter- AM I FUCK?  Thank you social services for giving me such a hard time. It has led me to take the actions to   where I am in this new chapter in my life. I am strong and empowered and passionate and every time I have fallen in my life,  I get up.  Everytime. These other less invasive  helpful  services should  be taken into account and be brought to the attention of a person before they start taking kids off their parents and family without the full facts. I’m not talking about the families where abuse goes on. I’m telling you what I have experienced  There is so much wrong with the system. I’m gonna volunteer my heart out.

Thank  fuck for silver linings. I not only have my daughter and my partner and my beautiful  family and friends  to live for but I have been given a gift of knowledge and I will be trained to help people who need some support and advice. I must share this knowledge of how I got my baby girl back and how much I have changed and how fucken exhilarating and terrifying   it is but it is worth the fight. I’m not the only one. There are so many more who are terrified to talk because they feel threatened and bullied by social services. CHANGE  must happen and I will do anything I can to be a part of that.  If you have read this far. Thank You. Never give up your right to speak . I had a  ‘gagging order’ imposed upon  me when my child was a ward of the courts( This is the law in England) . I don’t anymore and I am well within my legal rights to post this.  I want to use my skills and my creativity in writing and acting to help people remember  how to communicate again and it is a right of theirs to have a voice…

P.S. I still am partial to a cocktail or two  when I’m not looking after my health  for one thing or another -usually for a dress to fit in to  go somewhere.

P.P.S. I have written a stage play inspired by these events with a Brecht like influence. I wrote it for my final end of module assignment for my degree at the Open university and I got a 1st for it.  I might put it up sometime . I might not.

Art of Protest

I’m no academic poet.

Talk  to me about about syllables, haikus – to be honest,  I can only hear the blood rushing to my head.

I started doing stream of consciousnesss posts in 2016. I’ve received positive feedback on here, and now I want to step up my game.

Just for fun, the social aspect and it’s a different way to express myself.

So, I did what I do best.

Wing it!

I went to the  poetry workshop, everyone seemed to know what they were doing except me!

 I went with my heart, my  emotions and willingness to try out new approaches, in tackling poetry for live performance.

It was a cool workshop – delivered  by a well established,British  poet – Matt Abott –

check out his bio HERE 

A  collaboration with  DREAM TIME COLLECTIVE. 

ART OF PROTEST

We went through a series of activities with the idea to have some form of a draft by the end of the  2 hour  workshop

The theme was political poetry.

Each participant chose a theme that they felt passionately about. I chose ‘Animal rights/cruelty. ‘

I got so much out of a two hour workshop that I’m going to share what I did.

Once we had chosen our theme/subject

we had to ask ourselves three questions

  • Who does it  affect?

  • How does it affect me?

  • Why is it important to me or to the world?

A Couple of notes I made:

  • It affects animals, people, ocean, planet

  • I’m a lover of animals, I don’t believe that we need to eat meat, or wear clothes or makeup made up of animal derivatives. Because of my knowledge of what animals go through to become a consumer product. I feel it  is unethical.

  • I have my own view of animals. I admire  how they are able to evolve and adapt, in a way, that doesn’t  have a negative impact on the planet .This shows me that humans could learn something from nature, instead of destroying our home.

2. What Matt stressed is:   that if we want our poetry to make an impact writing it to perform , we need a motive, a call of action, an agenda.

  • Who am I  delivering this message to?

  • What do I want to achieve?

Examples: Do I want to shock people, encourage people to look at solutions to the problem etc..

3)

Imagine a room( keeping in mind what your subject is) and put 5 points/Images using ‘show and tell’ language to come with up with  strong words.

Example:

  • tearing of flesh

  • frothing at the mouth

  • cramped

  • squealing

  • gunshots

  • insidious laughter

4)  Objective.

Place the victim/s in that room.

What are they doing ?

How do they feel?

Example:

I had two victims. I imagined a gorilla coming round from another bout of being sedated by electrocution. He was wearing garish make up – heavily made up blue eyes and bold, blood colour red lipstick.

My other victim was human – a female who happened to be dressed up in chicken outfit or as a bird. She had a morbid fascination finding herself in this  surreal room with this clearly broken ,macabre gorilla.

Next we had place ourselves in that room -observing what was going on

Example:

Horror, what do I do? , retaliate or fight or freeze. I was frozen on the spot. Upon reflection, this  is how most of society reacts to topics that make them uncomfortable. They become apathetic.

Next, we had to place the victim outside of that situation/ROOM . Different surroundings. Aware of what they have witnessed/ or know and how they react in a different setting.

Example:

I chose the female ,costume wearing bird human and put her in a cosmetic store. The emotions that came to me were  conflicting – this victim of societies idea of attaining beauty is thinking ‘ ‘I have a choice’

The next stage was to  put these  ideas into the poetic form.

Make a poem.

 Always keeping in mind what we want the audience or how we want the audience to react.

We were directed to to start to put together a poem of no more than 50 words, or certain amount syllables. The aim was to keep it short.

Keep it punchy.

On topic.

I wrote about  100 words – possibly more.

It’s okay.

Then we had to cut those words in half – 😦

I ended up with 46 words.

This is the  end product .

Carnival time!

Gaze  in the mirror.

Blue sparkled hues 

Red paint 

Blood fondue.

Do I look pretty enough for you?

Tearing of flesh.

Bleached in acid 

Gorilla Art

Reflection never part

Do I look pretty enough for you?

The true freak in this show is 

, indeed YOU.

Daisy Willows/ Natasha Bodley

 

 

 

 

Times up. Workshop over. Get back to real life  😀

Now, I have another to approach to  poetry when  I write.

Worth it.

Go me!

Have a great weekend!

 

pycho phantic heathen

Write to recover is what I always say.

I’ve discovered,

Is  few of my words  leave me whirling with  – I’m proud to park,  pay and display.

Deals are made,

devils I summon.

People are abused, Charity leaps to a new order of Coven.

I write this way, with careless affray

to not lose a sense that words are tangible,

if  I work my fingers to imprint my genetic copyright

Confirming my DNA.

Some might say,

I try too hard

To write for better days .

Left to my own devices. I would live in clouds wrapped up in  grey hues-

a cemetery for all the left over  fillings

Thrown away, because of corrosive mouth decay.

In yer face!

Borderline – on the rocks.

I write to prove I’m far removed from serving  more time, in a straight jacket in New  Jack City.

Gangsters running around with silver bullet signed glocks.

I’v’e spent my better days basking in  previous glory .

Like butter it melts away the fear  of sleeping dormant .

One wrong box and I’d have been mistaken for a Tory.

Liberal with my words, eager to serve and love all my friends with creative pulses .

Tic tacs, I guzzle-colours textured in obscure.

I fight these escapism ,  inauthentic, paradise bomber  impulses;

To get high with — to lose track of time.

To think

I need a  potion of artificial wired, chemistry alternatives.

Usually these act as a placebo.

Serve to knock off my crown of  free willed determinism.

Courage lives in a mane,

a city  near Massachusetts

Puritans might discover I’m Freud in a ghostly slip.

I’ll be hung ,

Hands lie limp by my side.

Bled feathers  will tickle  the crowd-

Show I  bluffed my way into the inner circle of creatives who have a grasp of the

same

sane

 mundane

chain.

Heads up!

Forever chasing  the dragon of stream  of consciousness .

My thoughts fail me,

I’m beginning to think,

I’ve become presumptuous.

The kindness in others  words — to allay my anxieties,

Overwhelms me .

I tie my own tubes.

Disgraced.

I refuse to give birth to a dancer  with stubs for toes, phalanges pimped out to strike a  quivering echo-like ,   Margot  Fontaine pose.

Inner fear corroborate with the sinner without a legitimate C.V.

Write nonsense-

The Lakers swan to the crowd

I’m a nutter.

I’d   crack a prince just to see a picture  of  a colourful scene.

Abstract,

Mindful – in  the lines.

It’s not important.

Just a visual spray of shamanic chakras to impregnate the rainbow-I foresee.

Leprechaun leave my latin beats to breathe.

Mouth the words of soft brie , camembert and  wild boar.

Grant me a baguette —    riddle away, and I’ll gather my thoughts to satisfy thee.

Goddess Luna grants a cycle to merge with my  rites in fertility.

Thoughts exiled to Siberia-paid to be alone.

My government  saves me.

My soul

I will put down-

Though I know I won’t gamble it all away.

I win back my losses

Trust me, I know there is always another day.

Write, write , write.

Each word is a  middle finger at the writers academia  establishment .

I don’t want to be even  almost famous.

I don’t need a book with my name on it.

I blog merely to pour my inner most thoughts out — free up my world.

It’s about as poetic as I can get.

How about I insert the word fragrant?

I’m not academic.

My passion is not systemic .

Always in a position to sky dive.

Risks thought about

After I land in the hornets hive.

Stings heal .

It reminds me I feel.

I live by my words ‘cos I’m irksome and caustic within.

I was born walking into  webs of contradiction

and, now,

All I beg is for  is a hint  of credit

For expressing myself in this audacious fashion.

I’m not here to chat ’bout literary success.-

I’m already thinking about my post party dressed as myself-

the bodacious writer ,

Who is in fact a sycophantic heathen.

*INSPIRED BY A COMPLETE MELT DOWN IN MY ABILITY TO WRITE AND FINISH MY MASTERS*

 

loop of mankind

When I think of the word History, I think – ha ha!

No- erm….

I think of all my experiences.

I think of all the times I never listened to others, all the adventures -risky and dangerous -that I took myself on.

I think about where I am today – or rather how I think about my personal history.

I find it useless to blame my parents or ex-partners or people who abused me at whatever age- not because I don’t think they had an impact on some of the decisions I made in life.

Some people were held accountable either by the law or good old karma and others went and still continue to go through their own life shit.

I can’t do anything to change my history. I can’t make a person talk me  ( I can try to and have done) or love me or want to know more about me.

I find the more I rag at my past or people in my past – the less productive I am in my present life.

When I come to terms with say, a childhood experience or heartbreak/betrayal and  I decide to forgive (not forget);

I’ve seen how this conscious act to look ahead instead of looking backward has helped me deal with my past, in unexpected ways.

Classic example:   I was very hurt about the relationship I had with my Dad for many years and then, when I decided to focus on how I could try and move our relationship forward, Life found a way for us to have some kind of relationship.

He lives in Africa. I’m in the U.K. and I really love those silly IQ tests /knowledge tests on Facebook and so does my Dad!

 It’s our time together. It’s a way I have found to get to know my dad, have a laugh, feel connected to him and it’s helped me see my Dad as a human.

 I have been able to talk with him  on skype and let him see who I really am- Who I have grown up to be. I’ve had the uncomfortable ‘I don’t know what to say’ and worked through it. 

This is just one example.

I think if I had carried on being on the offensive – not being contact with him and thinking and feeling whatever it was I did, I don’t think I would have some part of my Dad in my life today.

Should he have reached out? I’m not even going there.

The point is I know how to reach out to people, I know I’m in control of me.

I don’t always get it right.

When I think of certain people and situations I’ve caused or found myself in- I can be confrontational and maybe those people aren’t ready or in a place to be a part of my life in a way, I want them to be.

It’s hard for me to accept other people’s choices.

 I don’t give in.

I’m stubborn.

The people I make time and effort for in the past or now- I do genuinely care about these people.

Eventually, I have to respect that not everyone wants me around or likeS me or …..who knows what they think!

 So, I have to suck it up – cry, refocus my energy and live my Life.

I don’t forget these people.

I often want these people to succeed even the people who made life hell for me.

The people who tried to bring me down – one  example,

At my hen do. I was looking good, my mental state was great and I felt good about me and I had an energy around me. I invited a bunch of friends out and one of the girls who I met through a relative – made the remark

” You’ve put on weight haven’t you”  

My mates were horrified knowing how far I’ve come with my issues.

 It took a couple days for my rage to kick in. I had it out with her and then I decided this girl has a LOT of her own issues.

Her life hasn’t been easy and isn’t and I’m not going to fall for it.

So even today, I big this person up. I encourage her to achieve dreams. I’m not best mates with her!

  Fuck, I’m not stupid. ha ha!

I need positive people around me.

I just realized that she saw something in me that maybe she didn’t have and it’s easier to try and bring a person down than be happy for someone.

Not everyone is on the same level of thinking you and I are on.

We all have a narrative, a past, a history. We deal with ourselves 24 hours a day.

Sometimes we try to escape from ourselves,

We drug ourselves to get away from ourselves.

Be it with sugar, food, cigs, weed, prescription meds, alcohol, crack, spice, legal highs, extreme sports, sex, porn, money.

I’m glad I’ve had people run me down in life.

 I’m not ecstatic about it but I can see the benefits of it – looking baaa ack over my shoulder…. ( like the song)

I am a person who is genuine, I have empathy, I filter my judgments, I forgive, I set boundaries, I reset boundaries.

I know what I believe in- what I am passionate about.

People do still challenge me.

 I’m  an observer and I ‘ve learned how to respond to certain types of people. Some people need to be spoken to how they speak to others.

If someone doesn’t get me -I’ve learned there are many who will and do.

I just put myself out on a limb and it feels like torture but I hang in there -until I’m just about to give up, then somebody or something comes into my life and reaffirms what I believe in.

I’m not saying my beliefs and values and the way I live are right for everyone but they are right for me.

I know what I need to work  on and I do ask for help.

January is coming to a close –

no more Just January Jots.

 

jjj-2017
 

JusJoJan word prompt – history

 

 

I’ve enjoyed the word prompts. I never know what will come out of my head.

 

It’s sunny and I have lots of work to do and I’m feeling optimistic, scared and determined.

Thanks for reading

 

The girl who silenced the world for 5 minutes

*REPOST*

 

In 2008 I watched this video of 12-year-old, Severn Cullis-Suzuki,  delivering a speech about the state of our planet and a plea to humanity at a global U.N. conference

I’ve watched this 8-minute clip of a 12 yeard Severn addressing the U.N. more times than I can recall.

Yes, she is idealistic and sounds naive at times. She is only a child as she states. I just wonder why people like this lady are not into politics & leading the world to see a new perspective.

Actually, she is involved in politics She is one of those rare individuals who dedicates her life to making positive changes without the need to be put on a pedestal & looked up to in awe. She is behind the scenes. She doesn’t need a camera or a podium to talk on to make a difference. She walks the talk as the saying goes.

She is a human being making a difference. Where are these qualities of altruism to be found in global leaders in government?

We follow the blind to seek the light.

 

 

 

Here it is

The point to all this is that I shared this video on my FB personal profile and  received a fair comment

‘Wonderful, inspiring girl but what good has it done the world?’ 

This prompted me to do a bit of research on who and where this girl or lady is today.

Read more about this incredible woman

HERE  – you won’t be disappointed. Follow people like her & maybe we can salvage our planet. Our home.

WOW!

12108227_10153145360281932_1010247663735366815_n
IMAGE SOURCED FROM HERE

This empowering person continues to make positive changes to healing our world. She has a vocation. I hope my daughter and future generations follow her example.

 I  sent a message just to say keep up the good work and got a reply!

As if!

Here it is

 JOIN EARTH CHARTER- Values and principles to foster a sustainable future  – You can keep your money to yourself if need be – just be a part of the environment you and your family and loved ones live in!