The pain inside me remains the real deal
It’s a tragedy how I only cruise on wordpress when I have tears dripping onto the steering wheel.
The journey that promotes me to tap away is always inspired by an ill gotten day.
Deal with the past. It’s too easy to blame.
I swear, I look forward.
Stand up for where I go wrong and who I maim.
Revolving doors of asylum, inpatient wannabe beauticians.
Incredulous that my own mother
beaten by her lovers and suffered her own ills.
Thinks its better to throw me behind the institution with E.C.T. waves and the barbed wire.
Jesus had a crown of thorns – aesthetically cruel in their Romanic decisions.
It’s a loop on a loop.
more drama –
every week its the same song coming out in different shade of blue.
This won’t disappear by erasing my face from your mind.
My child is my glory.
You wonder why i can’t take this lying down?
instead I give you the flamboyant, cussation sign
Call the crisis team.
We live in a Theresa May ,Tory sperm infested government.
I’m not suicidal.
I’m not drinking
I’m not overdosing
Not taking drugs.
Merely holding myself at a metaphorical gunpoint.
I want to protect my family from the inner Iago in me.
Deceives and twists all the good my heart seeks to see.
A mighty herculean -blinded by rage.
Numbers are his torment – he looks to them like riches dripped in gold.
an obssesive compulsive disorder compells him to have less –
It must be all light and sage.
Alone , i wake up to the sound of silence.
No daughter to say good bye to ,
no husband plodding about drinking coffee and watching QI on rinse.
In Africa I would be welcomed for my rise in weight.
I’m not in Africa.
I’m in a mind fed on media, with distorted ideas about what to look like.
Social media , I hate.
Insight is a curse -Ignorance is bliss.
Two weeks away from my deadline.
Post graduate, Daisy willows , in the Humanities
I should be riding out to the ocean to collect my sun’s kiss.
I feel like I’m there for everyone- I listen to their woes.
I jump up and celebrate every time they make a success of their lives.
They shine so bright – I call them my ‘little twinkle toes’.
I know I shouldn’t expect,
then I wouldn’t ‘t get disappointed.
I keep up appearances until the night terrors pull me out of my bed, torture me under veiled sight.
filled with infected cuts and perceptions line up disjointed.
I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a family!
So, why do you get the hump when i have no other alternative but to call up the family intervention team?
I want my daughter to grow up without these bouts of fits & confusion.
the cycle of poorly managed mental health to skip a generation .
Enough with another ‘daughter following in her mother’s steps’ delusion.
There is more to the back lash of her tounge and callous remarks than plain old wickedness.
We are a narrative of complex emotions bound up, in a body of flesh and bones.
look beyond your eye line fall.
Seek and you will find a person who is not transparent -less.
Sick of seeking approval from social media one dimensional folk.
Cull the people who can’t see it for what it is.
it’s beyond a joke.
Cutting down on so called friends.
re catagorise my means to justify making ethical ends.
People see right through you
Unless your name is printed in black and white.
The best stars shine and go about unseen,
making wishes of hope seem bright.
Her rage tips over the sides – the current for those who get credit for being generico stereotype.
It’s all hype.
they barely even look alive.
I want justice.
I want the people who make a difference
to get credit where its due.
I’ve had enough of this fake bakery .
Diabetic shots brings out the bad assery in me.
I’m done with pretentious folk .
Emotional vampires who expect.
Because they think they precribe the ideal look.
Its sad, a shame.
Don’t get caught up in the superficial.
Remember, reality goes way past the fantasy of this screen.
Cos we naturally wired to be a human being.
We need to communicate
Technology has purpose – it’s not for living life in a kumbaya state.
So many lies,
people all have ties
That keep them reaching out for 39p tissues.
I’m here for authenticity.
Denounce those who I see,
in all their duplicity.
I can’t be good and kind to all that seek attention.
How tragic is this situation?
Goodbye to many of you.
who will never wake from your boggled eyed fallacy.
I don’t do this out of spite or even maliciously .
I see clearly what and who holds me back.
My sole purpose is to stay on track.
So good bye to some of those
I’ve met on my path
Good luck with your life and everything that comes with decisions aftermath.
I aint got no more energy for you.
My people, my life needs my attention. Arrears paid up –
Mini life update 14 days until I hand in my End Of Module assessment for year one of my Masters. 😛
I will have a post graduate certificate in the Humanities 😛🤓🤓
I have news….
A director (not name dropping) wants me to send him my script about the homeless couple.
I don’t think Im going to……..
Or maybe I should …..
I don’t know.
I’ve never thought I was a good enough writer to see my work brought to life.
It”s scary to think that success is possible.
Rejection is normal, but the more I distance myself from the people in my life who made/make me feel shit about myself, and my abilities, and my sense of belonging; the more I meet people who see the good in me .
I don’t want to feel like shit around people.
So, I would rather be surrounded by a small number of those who are true and think I’m cool ish 😎😉.
Let the rest of world get their claws out in their need for attention, and to be heard.
Life is a blessing already
One thing is for sure. I will never work for fame. I will always work for justice and what is right.
I’m struggling, but never will I give up or give in.
This heart beats.
These eyes have fire behind them
She conceives words as they follow. Military soldiers conform to order.
Dissident few stutter in a withheld, race identity, chalk circle.
Her brain won’t allow her to move on.
Lamenting for a trusted source.
Collapses onto hot tarmac. Too tired to alter.
Melt her heart.
Resuscitate the breathe that gives her corpse a reason to impart
For a creative outlet,
Her own personal work of art.
Hands raking through her hair. Grip at the sides, pulls out a chunk,
She’s dating an alopecia hunk.
This funk makes junk.
Eyeball sockets sunk.
It would be better if she didn’t care if the words weren’t her own.
It wouldn’t matter if the characters didn’t continue to harass her.
Calling for their story to be heard.
Multiple attempts. She can’t cut out cardboard citizens.
Maybe in an empty space, yes.
Verbatim theatre could work.
She submits to an elusive entity.
Virtual paper work-enough to bag a colostomy.
Not been on here much.
The guilt makes her turn her head away.
She gets it,
She needs to reciprocate.
Sincerest apologies for not being present.
She’s surfing the web.
Googling data analysis and Lady bosses fine tuning their hold on her own grip.
She prefers to lie down on green pastures than make love, on a bed,of green bills any day!
Unfortunately, life says she has to pay in paper too to make some headway.
It’s all right. It will pass.
Shivering from the inside. Lack of carbon dioxide.
Waiting for the critical to report how much recovery time she needs before Muse Goddess ups and leaves.
It’s a look of a person. Shrivelled into crass.
Thought-rhyming is a pain in her ass.
She’s laying it down in quick dry cement.
she knows we all want to be that portrait
She’s a portrait too.
Has her needs
Open your eyes-reach out to touch her.
These layers of skin hide organs, bones ,
And a heart so tense-all it can do is wheeze.
“This is me. I can’t deny it.”
We all have a life.
Hers has become a familiar rendezvous with Alien Jackson sporting a mullet.
What does it matter if characters are Black, White or Hispanic?
Social realism settling on common ground upon its release.
Not for an escapist’s palate.
What is the state of theatrical politics, on the horizon, beyond that place we call-
Not even two Bonds can be saved.
Pearl earrings engraved.
Her gums are in recession.
Blame the bank and the Tories.
Her feminist views will place blame on those next in succession.
One larger – hangs limply from her chest.
Commit a mastectomy on her femininity
Humans fight terminal illness, homelessness…
How dare she think her position is dire.
Disbelief that that her renegade words follow in a Capitalist order.
She falls onto her knees,
Thanks Ashanti for her daughters.
Time to shove a half pill down some pussies throat.
Its nasty ,
Doubts whether deep throat works
She’s trying to stay afloat.
Her illness-the chronic versus the opposite divide
It’s her personal narrative that finds her margined between this blank space on each side.
Calm and serene.
A mother is reborn.
Lost for 3 days — late – couldn’t rise,
Her mind was indeed full of scorn.
Today, she waits,
Wrings out her anxieties.
Maybe new teeth will win her virtual friends.
Give her more appraising likes
Maybe, they will finally see that she is real,
rearranging her mask-unsure of what reflects back at her multiple ‘Me’s’
Her reflection is divided into pieces.
Cant fathom out that there is a whole entire being to examine
Jig saw puzzle unresolved ,
yet again crippled to her knees.
Fervent sweeping up of shattered glass.
For a figment of a second she saw an outline
Stories march in protest – for plot out lines, dramatic structure, scenes, reveal characters in lace
Just enough exposed to show.
Three more weeks, one year down-more time for unadulterated fun.
If you don’t hear from her,
Know she weeps every night into a whisky soaked bun.
It’s a metaphor.
Let go and melt the sun.
Cool down its temper. Versailles gardens make her think of France cut into a jambon quarter.
Carry on till the end.
All the books say she ought to.
Humming a song
Doing her thing.
A mere whiff of failure invokes convulsions from within.
‘Write for myself ‘
Truth , integrity and courage is the only way she will let herself be heard.
If you can’t accept her-carry on peeking over at her life, not mentioning if cuckoo finally flew.
One day, you won’t be able to tighten Ids screw.
*Inspired by a kish kash, Mish mash of nerve endings and beginnings .
true love insatiety.
Two lovers with no fixed abode.
Pariahs to a culture in the quest for a monetary load.
Shelter over head versus security locked on the inside.
freedom in exploring lovers spell,
remember even outcasts have rights to claim base to a premise.
Allow Emotion necessary feeds.
two teens choose homelessness!
Why allow increased suffering and sorrow into the hearts of a young generations bliss?
The fault is not with those who choose companionship.
The system fails us all.
Digits in Information Data protected code.
Silicon domain ship drives the latex whip.
Norms of society don’t make for a decent person.
Laws in place to follow obediently -can’t find a pulse – humanity is cursing.
No religious books needed to teach us how to know right from wrong.
Morals are instinctive-passed down a DNA cell telethon.
Spirituality and science
is empathy responding in defiance.
Scrutinise the tramps
for he who makes not a wage sufficient to put in our governments’ banks.
Gleam citizens of society!
Feed your families by working for a legal, unethical corporation.
Where will you take your possessions when nature sheds a hernia?
Blood bank Sponsorship in need of a different type of currency.
we have lost.
Not long until we see all genders in mass hysterization.
Followers, likes, tags, social status
War on the photoshop Generation
insert a sultry slavering pavlova condition.
wear the no makeup look – wear less makeup.
no need for a two-hour trial and a tutorial book.
A means to an end.
Look at how we teach our children to defend
for one day we must die.
How can we continue to justify how we live life?
continuously living in hope of being upgraded by united airlines,
feet up in the sky
‘on the high’
*FEELING frustrated for multiple reasons. Still waiting for my TMA 3 mark. Started on my EMA for my MA. I’m doing act two from ‘the homeless teen couple in love’ script that I started way back in November 2016. I’m still 100% passionate about finishing it, however, I have learnt a lot about writing this year. I’m going it act two with a new approach.*
MUCH LOVE TO ALL OF YOU ON HERE.
THANK YOU, TO ALL THE NEW NEW WORDPRESS BLOGGERS FOR YOUR RECENT FOLLOWS.
I’ve so many blogs to look at. Welcome to the willows.
A place that never stays the same.
Don’t know if that is a good or bad thing, it’s how this mind works. ha ha!
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
This choleric temperament pillaged every time I stand my ground spasmodic
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,
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.
wooden table – fraternise with education.
Anxiety levels cut off all circulation
Leaving all my bluds homeless without an occupation.
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?
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.
why have thou forsaken me?
The only God I ever thought could fulfil and denounce all insipidity.
Creativity- my muse. usually, I type -words flow not perfect but in some sense of verse.
Can’t swallow – I’ve been cursed.
Another person knows the truth – think I want to go back up the birth canal first
over thinking rhyming words – music, hoovers, the energy is far from an ideal haven.
Look above, hear the wings flap – a freak migration of the black wings – inaugurate the raven.
All exercise comes from my smile – I’ve packed on the pounds frowning lines overused, flex around my mouth.
flex around my mouth.
Drop dead. A blow to the head. I’ve lost it. Muse? ditched me to become a stitched up cowboy down south.
Swallow guilt in packs of threes.
Music to my ears -guilt shake me, blood seeps out -donation date in arrears.
doubtful mind -caution mindfully what you attempt to incite.
Confederate vocabulary union matched up on a strike
No more smiling faces in sight.
Each word resigns – there is nothing left to type.
No tears pouring down his face. There is no moisture to wipe.
Studpity rots the brain
no more stories when a writer runs out of grain.
Shadows – I cower away . Shadows induce carbon monoxide attack
Clamp down on every thought – seize all my gear-leave me with not one solid fact in tack.
the writer who dunnit
Honesty is courage
pride myself on not hiding behind kabuki masks
yet, I’m still hiding in the dark seeking out my whereabouts.
A familiar name being called from a place I know I felt zen.
I can’t manage to summon the courage to get in with the rest of them.
Success should be kite high skittle eventful,
not something that drains your blood, depletes energy,
life? I’ve become resentful.
If Honesty is courage
then I should be a maned lion.
Here I get to sit and watch the world roll on by
prefer to roll down the blinds. Shade the light from my remaining eye.
Shut out the sunshine.
how dare those bright beams try to tempt me.
Keeping up appearances,
easily done as long as you don’t have to face people in reality.
Has my reality become so virtual?
Is Second life all I’ve got?
Would I even register if I have ever logged on?
I haven’t felt the grass on my bare feet for so long.
I forget every hour that goes past I can’t go back and hold on.
Fooling who ? nobody only myself.
A pick me up just so I can wash my hair and maybe pretend to care.
Where did I lose my carefree air?
I eat more than 7 fresh fruit and veg a day.
I can’t control the outcome.
sit in the darkness listening to melodies that once soothed the soul I carved out of pure love
Hugging onto a unicorn- hoping for a fantasy to employ a mimetism of what I once sung.
clear skin , bright eyes and oh so much wit.
What is done is done.
We tell the world to learn from histories lessons
we struggle to learn from our own
A paradigm of obstinate sin.
No words can express how lost I am within
embrace me on a whim.