*If you want to find out more a bout the inspiration for this piece and raise awareness against all forms of violence and abuse-Trigger pictures of me looking bruised -HEAD OVER HERE
If not read below.
It’s not Saturday and I’m feeling non conformist. I guess its kind of my way.
Haven’t done much this weekend — except nursing bruises, swellings, scrapes and down right painful blisters on the mouth.
The lows of last week found me beaten to a pulp like a survivor from a war jump.
Didn’t get no gangrene or scurvy-I suppose that’s better than dying on a row boat at Dunkirk – on sheets of ice.
Spinning around not a La Kylie Minogue mode.
I’m over the worst of the beating-
I “secretly” hope these two bastards gets their come( t)uppence.
It would be easier to get high and escape from the down side-
Look out my window and the skyline is blocked by housing estates.
Crumbling – it’s always a better view at low tide.
Three a.m. wake up calls for months-every time.
The creative freaks come out so, I suppose I’m in good company and I will be..
just fine. 😀
Physical strength is the only thing that let me down in this fight against the Alphas.
If guns were legal I think I would use the second amendment to plea —
Give at least one of the limp cocks a belter.
Only one would be laughing — this bruised weed — always making sure her brood is out of the firing line;
Standing in the shelter.
Ballroom blitz and shammy with my king.
Oh how we will dance!
— cowards should carry around organ donor cards.
On second thoughts, who would want the innings of someone who can’t fight to their own strength —
Run little boys to your Audi and drunk mommy-
The one you beat up on a regular basis.
You think this is a female annihilation version of the crusades?
I’m low not in mood but my body says — sit down and feel your boo boos
My head says life is for living.
I don’t want to walk out of my house,
like a beast or looking like a victim of domestic violence-
Here comes the freak in an endless hued complexion of distracting tutus
The highs are the times when I hear my child laugh, my husband he bathes me and kisses me tenderly,
loves my sense of spirit when I look bloody unsightly.
In truth I look hideously ghastly—
Green beans and asparagus — home made by La Bonne chef, ma Mere.
I struggle to eat more than ever, but I won’t let two stomped out cans put me off the future horizon I’ve cut out —
The scenic view from here is a — plethora of orgasmic sight sees.
Lows inevitably come with highs.
I’ve accepted a hand
taken that step off the top roof.
The next time I’m up their , I’m going by lift.
To dance and rub shoulders with people channeling the same level — hearing a sub woof.
Clearly better days ahead.
Wasted time on talking pin heads.
Its fine, its mine, Its life.
Yesterdays news is on current recycle mode.
This Mary Poppins has already started making UP fresh linen beds.
A break from the toxicity of incurable idiotism — helps me see far up the winding road.
Perspectives easily imagined —
There goes a heavenly striking stair case.
It may not lead to a conventional heaven .
I’ve already stated my unorthodox ways right at the beginning .
I missed the word that rhyme ending three sentences up,
So, I’ll close SOCs by stating:
I’m recharging my load.
I’ve missed LINDA G’S. SOCs -today’s prompt -High and lows
Good to be back – Take part its fun – heres a link!
Though lightness may fade.
Forget words wasted on ill gotten behaviours.
Stuck in a quagmire?
Want to send out the vigil of hope.
It’s in me.
Buried under a thousand haunting ghosts.
Make this a cheerful post.
What is disarmingly charming in this world?
Open my eyes,
Be interested in gazing outwards.
Look back at the words you have’ written.
Be inspired that you wrote them!
Don’t let snide comments sneakily sweep through the back door,
Prevent you from expressing your self.
Sometimes, words in simple dimples are all we need
Who are you writing for?
You have your unique style.
Don’t neglect that self respect cautiously peers out, perched atop , the rotting,
In the basement.
Confidence drips tears for the days when his best foot turned all heads.
Don’t worry .
When has it ever been so difficult for me to type and write and hit publish without a second glance?
Only when caught up in dusty webbed rags of self-doubt.
Shadows change according to light.
Don’t be intimated by what is a mere reflection.
Remember shadows can’t exist without a living body,
Take the power back.
Don’t hide from those who sigh — in disproportionate contortions of their own path .
Happy lights-faeries delight.
blissful smiles stippled on faces
There can be no ulterior motive.
Worry about your own if you are confused about life twists and mysterious genders.
Guilt sprouts up-GMO crops
Pesticides cause all matter to infold my mind
Crucify my time?
flowers give sentiment to humans lost in nocturnal spaces
Eye sight not evolved enough to adjust to a new fate.
Decisive in what I decide will make up my next jungle adventure.
Armed with words and a benign bravado.
I don’t back down to monsters of carpathian.
Audacity and gumption are my greatest weapons.
Shout me down,
I will test that phycology straight back at ya.
Threaten me or one of my own,
I will stand up and defend my home.
Bats of fear — circulating above.
Blood, don’t clot on me now!
This is my fight — yet I won’t battle it alone.
So much I want to put down.
Not in stream of consciousness
No more ashamed of how far down I free-fall into the squid ink mouth of the abyss.
I gripped onto natures own boulderous 😉 safety net.
I seek to retrace.
*Something I wrote in stream of consciousness and then decided to work on it a bit more*
* boulderous-made up word — combination of rocky and bold-
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
time to stop her before she’s crying over spilt milk
Betrayal overheard by a righteous all seeing mole living in a borrowed hole.
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.
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
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.
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.
Bus stop revellers turn heads
eager for a spectacle.
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
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.
another chance to show him- somehow he would think.
that girl -WOW!
Fight for her
over imbibed, arguments stippled in blackouts.
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.
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.
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?
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.
winter clearly signaling death and rebirth to come.
His posturing lingered long in her mind.
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 😀
If shades came in pigmented blues
Would the world recognize the significance of color as opposed to hues?
Would living in color stop it’s either this or that?
Would gray get a chance to convince us to investigate?
Would crashing into a slick navy
crude and lost at sea,
Inspire old fashioned candy knots to carry us all back to safety?
If black wasn’t so noir
Would fashion dictate less to those in the savoire?
Would flags become less patronizing?
and white flags more entrancing >
A hue is a hue by its very name
A color can decide to change and play – a child-free game.
Rich in reds and rich in Green
Would we see who indeed profits from wealth – would we want to change this scene?
Would hearts come together under a purple strewn night?
lovers take pleasure in dancing in the rain and seeing each other in a different light?
Emotional attachments are often aesthetically pleasing
only to the one who is eyeballing the muddied one’s high pitched squealing.
Clarity of light sought in souls and not in places of a questionable heaven.
admirers eyes to skies
solid legs still rooted in the ground
unifying all genders of brethren.
How wealthy we are to have a landscape of color
Don’t ignore its beauty in the search for another.