Tag Archives: in yer face poetry

My greatest mistake

If I let you creep under my skin

would you forgive me for wishing myself to die from sin?

If I let you hold tight and folded into your arms

would you forgive me for needing someone to look to for my daily psalms?

If i had you ravage my body in kisses, linger fingertips over my flesh

Would you forgive me when I can’t let go unless under the influence of a narcotic

If I had to be the mother of year

Would you put me down when I fall from grace

I’m only human

That’s  my greatest mistake.

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Others peace of mind

I planned another attempt on my knees

Spoke to a God

Pathetic

Uninspired

Extraterristial

Daisy is no more.

A body emptied walking on egg shells.

Shocked mind

No purpose

too unkind.

Secret whispers

Willful whiskers

Silent sisters

Cause me to break out in blisters.

Words fail to recover my obsolete pose

Hesitant

Defunct

Maleficent

stream of wrong chosen floaters in crimson blood rivers.

white foam is my diffident

Illiterate

A hypocrite.

Angry cross dressers

hung by confusion

bungee jump without rope into a quagmire.

Prayed to a cloud God in an attempt to die

magnificent.

Lost, scared, dreading my loss of locks

inside I’m already dead.

Queen bee keeps me in fear

droplets of pollen

my rival is life

sincerely solemn.

A fraud

illiterate.

Alone decorated in red confetti

Enraged at my syphilistic minded inability to write even borderline literate.

Fits and spirits

rummy body popping misfit.

Failure to perish

shelf life insignificant.

Non academic.

A failure at talking transparent.

A liar

A thief of integrity.

A coward rumpled into a once upon a time melody

No solace — out grown to suffer from eternal colic.

Insignificant.

Stubborn push me over

‘cos it’s a waste of oxygen.

Recovery is overrated.

Trust when I say

I’m insignificant.

Footloose –

I lied and I planned

My prison is this world.

Let me go!

I’m not strong enough to serve the bee revolution cos I’m different.

Lonely.

Scared to never feel my bones.

Lonely.

Scared to lose my only love

My minds my terminal to Cancer.

Purpose – 37 years wasted in ignorance.

I’m not writer

I’m a fighter.

An enemy of my Self.

Uncomfortable with peoples apparent confidence in my ability to not give up.

Strength is not telling

Can’t keep a secret — I’m a fraud — I lost my soul to the devil 3 decades ago.

A ritual given freely to a demon I couldn’t please.

I’m insignificant

Why did I tell of my plans?

Damn do gooders orchestrating my life.

Suicide is the answer.

I’m dead inside

I’m a joke-I’m aimless — shameless

Engaged – remember to pretend to be engaged.

Life is a sham — there is no plan.

Fear makes me who I am.

A writer died on that table.

I shrink my words-

I am not who I say I am.

Leave me

Don’t tease me;

Hated

underrated.

People — I don’t get you — assist me — talking in skipped beats

a sham.

Daisy in the willows

I’m not a fan.

Help me disappear

not in another room with four walls

Damm you,Bee

you hold me rooted

Why do I love you ?

You’re my child

I am A mother on mute.

Lost to a cause

Petrol bombed mind.

A lost cause to

These four walls.

Life is a shore ditch with no applause.

Inherently stubborn

alive — so very sudden.

Cheated out of death

I don’t want to live

Stop saving me

Screaming to a society blinded

deaf.

Samaritan I’m your even,

my

selfish? , yeah

welling up in self pity.

Take my Queen — kill me — a paperless tree.

these words are not free

I cannot be

Fuck the world

Listen to my plea.

Let me die

damn you all

I have Cancer in my mind.

You live behind fake smiles and superficial styles.

The only time i ever felt free was when I wrote without thinking

I’ve lost my creativity

I’m done thinking

My rights taken from me.

Death embrace me

Comfort me.

Why can’t you fall in love with me?

Damn you all.

I am my biggest flaw.

Live for yourselves.

let me disappear into a shallow grave carved out of skin

Scarred by the welts of time.

A master of self distortion

Fuck the life-it serves no function.

All I had were my words.

Now I have nothing but a habit of crawling on hands and knees hiding from life’s sores.

I don’t want to be famous.

i want another chance to die — Fuck you

I’m possessed

I’m shameless.

Hospital and doctors orders

I’m not an animal!

I’m a ghost of the cult of the morbid.

These are my words

Damn you, Bee!

Manipulate me into loving you

If only I didn’t care

maybe i don’t

fuck these words are simple.

Not good enough

I’m the fucker with the guardian angel who won’t let me go.

Fuck you, you test me and arrest me.

I’m perpetually unhappy

let me go

Let me finally be free.

I was born into the wrong world,

the wrong time.

fuck you all – I don’t want to be

Yet still

I’m too damningly kind.

Survival of the fittest — I’m a rumpled coward-a retard — a misfit.

Damn you,host — you saved me — when you should have save your breath for another.

I exist for others peace of mind.

*This is a work of fiction and stream of consciousness writing prompt for a character I am developing for my Masters.*

Love Cartel didn’t end well

sails set -flappers on deck- bags packed ready to dance with le mistral –

Prepare for signs of cursive scurvy , unorthodox rats.

a canary and a dove destined for a new type of island style

Known by the name king Louis of swing.

Roots.

Start over.

Allegiance to the flag

Pledge to acquiesce to the captain of this ship

He – the cardinal son.

She- Scarlett wife , tresses of a bedheader installs a navigation Wicca app aura .

Puritans on the other side of the reminisce  -wont flock in God’s pinitation no more.

Men blemished from wearing rosacea glasses,

They don’t mind if their ladies flesh is pricked by a stranger.

Possessive is not a prerequisite to all nature.

If she hustled away every coin for her current despicable appearance,

Would his fists mangle into the renegade degenerate?

He ,sitting on a cracked pavement, sipping beer 9% proof distilled hops poison

The brain canters away with a wild neigh, a hurdle jump to late to plummet off the mezzanine ?

Money talks .

Yes, your majesty,

The Queens face-discordant in all apparitions injects a dose of annus miribilis.

Scarlett wife Disorderly conduct causes a head to head, bollocks to a curtesy,

Sight convinces the reality of her hand gripping onto a can of mace.

No!

Artistic expression insists on splashfuls of colour of cans .

Expressive language told in graffiti.

Stand back — look at the words staring at you on the attack

What is respect ?

No dictionary to hand. Examples pour out without definition.

Pleasantries, thank you , cups of tea, good nights, mechanical nav app claiming

Quickest reroute to I love you,

Is it posse of homies fist bumping in homage to the lionized mane with blue blood paw

Together-slumber in king size

Flesh remains languorous to the swirl prints of human touch-

Mistaken identity chickens both fear to lose more feathers

Life division — soul mates obliterated by differences in decorum ethics.

Always the sophisticate — the crowd whispers nectar grains of gossip behind whimsical fans.

She is the fallen angel , notorious for the malaise in her head,

 she brings out the rapture of Yorkshire cows that hide udders with a noo noo ,

lactose free

Milked by onions far future veiled tears and a survival credits demeanor .

The pair adore the honeyed bee with cotton blue eyes –

the enigma who keeps their fates sealed in bondage

Arrange one another like a book end seeking outwards ,

a common agenda arise

Pleiades siren sisters heard mewing departing with the breath of dawn

tangerine hues , salmon pinks,

Creative muse leads the joint pair to rip at each other until both are mere bits of itty bitty jagged ,torn up pieces.

No clean break.

Wind takes a pile of their stake

Love ?

People fall out of love everyday.

Better opportunities appear in the sky line at sun

Save but for this,

Passion misaligned enough to impart a spiritual kiss.

Scarlet answers to his tonic inflections — atonement persists every other day.

White noise.

Static.

Erratic.

Chaotic.

Despotic

Erotic

heinous tumor clots the mind by a sprinkle of a spell hypnotic

The poltergeist won’t make a proposal with a smudging kiss -so dreadfully emphatic!

Compromise to exercise the practice of sabili.

Feverish tug of war discourse breaks out in lieu of discordant decibels strung out on opiate sentences.-

Night terrors channel the unblemished one onto hang mans cliff, one foot away she is from tumbling to the state of alone.

How can we humans get it so wrong for so long?

Hearts motivation is seeking for a state of a rose petal bed sensation

Yearn that the fleeting soul mate would over estimate his worth.

Indeed change his own faith perhaps even his fate.

No frown lines

Don’t mean no problems.

equality determined by duvet covered up underscores

Old Ben ticks a version of rock.

seize a raconteur to reveal a mandatory position of bondage-alternating positions to top-

Knowledge of new positions verbalized in consumption — a crescendo of orgamsic crowning

Don’t you think it’s fascinating we can live in cramped states and boxed ticks?

Fairies move out appalled by love birds sudden screaming in Tourettes tics

Strangers bound by vows and contracts have perfunctory sentiments ,

Know her soul — possess her ,emancipate her from well coined ferry man ferrying crowds over the river of sty.

she needs the force of a Minotaur-

Amygdala explosion — irrational welts to a few tossers , no burial for those who disrespect a generous gender-life givers-vessels for the lucky few

Respect is a two way street.

A part can disappear to a sudden gasp of disappointment clad in veil-hidden-

Though some part still exposes her skin announcing she’s prepared to paint a mural — decipher their own teasing ,high hopes for their Art.

He needs a stability, no hand palms lined with haphazard crosses-

Nor to the cosmos antagonizing the make up of her spirited sum

We – love is what ? a dessert homemade , multiple attempts to attain the taste of perfection

To understand the the meaning behind the effect of not giving a shit about garlic breathe.

We fall in love-

we fall out

We love-

we don’t love

Love shouldn’t have a contract of pre determined conditions.

Feisty souls-what will happen when they reach past there 30th mile stone?

All blasphemous bathe in water infected with parasites of bloody rouge delighted to succeed leeching on a new host — a corruption life draining feed

is this enough to see them through the next phase-a turnstile or direction that doesn’t rewire an IQ test

emotional intelligence — hear her lilted accent

Manipulations, guilt — disappointment-

She commands brutal truth in — communication

Not the bullshit that she is the get down momma.

Big up her soul — she won’t trust words wrapped in silk feathers made by the wife of the bent over farmer.

Troubled is this state of terrain .

life epiphany moments can unify a bond lost to an inventory of savage materialitisic scum

The body is infected

Damn woman, screwed up everything from the moment she puffed out a perfect Oh breathe , the day at her party of existence.

Which way to go?

Look at the neighbors garden — all flowers and herbs cultivated with hands green hue glow.

Tender, patience — imagine a perfect relationship.

It’s easy to forget the good times when Cerebus wakes up-

dodging three eyeballs — accumulate by the sense e of fear-causing blood to boil in heinous state of haemorrhage.

Reminisce the spaces with laughter , moments of frisson, an out line of a future that didn’t appear another gilded prison.

Vow to be a sensual, thought after action man

Vow to be a lady who will cite and recite her promise .

re read the words spoken amount attuned bird chirping,

Above an audience not hidden by a curtain-breaking down every wall.

They recite their vows

Explore the true meaning,

Speak them out loud

Reconnect – her proposal to fight for their future far from the hostile terrain cartel.

Maybe she wrote

Heard the one about instagram being cocaine delivery service ?

Meme- it.

Nah! I just go for the pictures, personally but the deep dark web -hides

mews of creatures -deep- internally.

My world luxed out with a sunny day.

A line scented with silver

made for an olfactory disguise – remnants of rotting fish odor .

Murdered a child – fetus borne out of a reflux screaming match.

Woke up alive -bloated tummy and a 5 month walking nightmare-

It’s a boy – he secreted into every orifice

Raped me

respectably

Allowed insanity to become my better face.

Overdosed on affirmations

never have regrets

Turned around and married a man likened to the son of god

Fallen angel -I am

The humor isn’t lost.

Lets do a rewind – I’m allowing requests.

Here I am typing…

writing – spouting off words

Maybe one day it will all make sense.

Force of drole

*writing to recover-writing to remember who I am. Writing and shrugging of the insults of so called friends/family

DROLE-this  world is a part of my repertoire

 seek it out

I  observe the stars bluster out a cosmic sigh

sun ushered in to greet me and says to me high

sunshine deflated-slips behind

coy eyelashes flicker

an  elusive goodbye

landscape sightings report the sun’s trickery

it can’t  revolve above or  under the  sky

Planet earth is cookie cut

flattened into shape

dictated to — its norm of a lay by

infinite  stutters unlace La Luna

part ways

  left heartbroken

creating ripples across water

Oft blurred.

 wanton to view her beguiling manner this eve

Don’t watch this space

It leaves room for an innuendo

genre style-

budgie budgets cos it’s an indie myna on the fly by

Gutted cos this  reads across as a novice  flatulently  windy

Lost confidence in his nature.

Stole a spirit

it wasn’t even mine

Finale parts the legs of barbie inbred s  in-laws.

Cheap cheap

underwear-blatantly reveals the remnants of a hookah   smoky blows

secreting a house ablaze

brush off an ashen doll-

pasteurized

vended  as Cindy.

Quality remains third degree sightless

to the echelons taken over in a hazed quantity;

I think I died.

I have imposter syndrome

These words dictate I’m a genuine illiterate.

Forgive me for attempting to write

I forgot about that critter sitting amongst its fellow mate-the 5 10 midget

Oi ‘Arry Potter quick diversion tactic-start finding the golden   quidditch

DAISY LIFE UPDATE

Life has been and life has not been. I’m still here. No amount of suicide attempts or general mismanagement of my health and life has worked. No grave filled. I’m alive! I’m divorced. I matter. I can. Miss being on here.

Do or Dye

Sitting on the roof top trying to tell myself I’ve not misbehaved.

Blush rose hues creep up my cheeks and I know my hearts desire is unexplained.

I look at the stars — one always stands out brighter than the rest.

I say to myself — there goes my next conquest.

With liberal wings and green peace in my heart ,

I know for the sake of inhabiting my skin-unconfortable feelings will always play a part.

Forgive me for  being free spirited and seeking out a bon ami.

If I had testicles would  my new gender let me walk free ?

to be me?

It’s a plea.

I love what I desire .

I desire what I love .

I hate it when my sanity decides to imitate a neat whisky on the rocks.

Truth be told – I know I’m getting old .

Disambiguous feelings about the path I tread.

May my daughter’s laugh always bring me round to the sound of present day clocks.

Murmurs of hesitation .

Live my life, have a voice, and sail away

Where else do you think I would choose for a holiday destination?

The one I never have to come back from.

It’s me inside me.

Dare to take a part of me — feel my anticipation.

The specials-the after math.

Told  off for  my impulsive reaction.

The fact I’m conscious I am typing these words-

I feel inauthentic in how they roll out my mind with a hesitant tense formation

Words rise up ,around me – Jab me and a jeer me to dare say whats on my mind.

I’m not a child and I’m not venerable just yet .

So I swim against the tide of the alphabet soup.

Clarity I seek.

One tidal wave from forcing myself to write these words down;

If only to reinforce I have my own sound.

Sound as a pound

Scared of clowns .

That’s better-Socs — that’s my deal.

My contraband.

How I get from a-z- without reaching out for the  plan involving illegally, prescribed Ativan.

Banned from my perception of the elite.

Breached my licence to complete…

Should I hit delete?

This is my beat.

I won’t let me beat me down.

Self is the worst enemy-you know how it ages your reflection

scowling in a frown.

She’s back in business now . Wah da da da da — the song clearly has relevance in my sense of decline.

Fall 8 times — get up again.

Who am I to want merely blend in?

I was born to be a Bengal feline.

Character building — life coach ,I sense my patience won’t let me vote for your reality T.V. yoke.

It makes me sick.

Confession .

Watch one episode and I will mutate into just one more cockroach.

I’m on the down line with a mean upper hook.

Priorities in order.

House work infected by the pox — aren’t you glad you vaccinated your park life children?

Let my demon free to infiltrate the anti’s, confront them with the disease bitten book.

Have a say — what’s the worst that can happen?

Speak your mind — illegal aliens might just descend from that planet called Saturn.

Write to recover. Write to escape.

Shake up your mind , dare to continue —an inner ongoing live debate.

Not for hate — you make your own fate.

Feeling Anxiety. Too worried about what John Sax’s might reveal to his munchie  queen.

Know thyself and be true to yourself.

I’m not going to change my character to fit in with society’s latest heart melt.

Superstitious mind – I earned it in walking my path — did you see my black belt?

Stand up for who you are and what you believe in.

Some may consider me strange but have you had a look at your inner heathen?

The entity is back — no wheel-dealing with a bad batch of sugar coated crack.

6 million ways to die — choose one 

That came from a song – Who am I to sit around and hide?

 * DEADLINE  for EMA  Sunday night.  *

 

The song -contains  some cussing and may offend feminists …..  😉 Maybe not this song 😀  Idk.

The get by

Writing to get by

It’s that or sudden death – I merely exist or throw myself off gullibles bridge.

Splat –

Acme would own up to my incredible fuck ups blowing out trails of smoke.

Enticing my inner bloke to forget about the matriarchy and live off some clean toke.

It’s not important what we type or write about.

It’s survival for me that I spit these words out.

I can’t rap – Maybe one day – I’ll be in a head space

you know me meeting up where its at.

Until then I”ll write to recover,

Remind at least one other –

Yes we have to live in order to die

Die in order to live

Our mistakes

Our successes

are us merely being human.

Master piece this is not.

Usually

my stream of consciousness shakes up a nest of serene syndromes.

It’s all making sense – typing ,doing what I know instilled in me.

A teeny bit of common sense

We have it rough

we have it smooth.

Sound experiment avec Nicknack wack track maker

My latest Garage Sound ,spoken word with awesome help and instructions  from my mate to push myself and my own boundaries.

Do not fear  you will make many

many mistakes.

It’s okay not to  have your shit together first time around or even your 50th

C’est la vie

My mother called me

My mother called me a narcissist

I delayed ringing an exorcist

Eve didn’t want to admit she was too affronted by the orange county housewife

I’ d laugh if it weren’t for the affray

the truth is I’m a direct line of self sabatageoust

my mother called me a narcissist cos i killed myself

she didn’t find it funny when i told her to go along with it

She didn’t get it.

I take up my place as a a dyed goat dressed in sheep

i wonder if I can make it .

i forget

language-so i bleat instead of weep my tears.

Kooky heart

Oh how did this happen to me
The girl from some other foreign city?
Wiley enough to make a plan
Cunning and soft of heart -all my eggs bled before the start of labour
Before the sun came up.
It hid her pain, all the clots of her smiles.
She would coocoo again
for her soul was of one who couldn’t quit even when they told her she was dead.

La fripon- Flopsy Ears

Death rattle

Reminiscent of an uprising of crickets ready to battle

Stare at a puffed updiamond heart

Drumming inside an empty cage. Birds ripped apart.

Gargoyle  stares ignored.

Folk bumble about unaware what is in store for us all- eventually.

The breathe of Hades-

Lingers then makes a dash for scant flesh and bones.

Meat is not this gods instrument. Lust causes call for more drones

Sponge, moisten  parched parted  lips

Raven signals the ire of its whips

The ones who don’t loose it in bedlam excite

Death.

Invites all loved ones to rally round

Stands by door. Stands back.Admires its ownpower.

A moment to savour for a while more.

Every door closed,  each breath cloys

Begs for enough fare to cross the distance to embrace elysium air.
Today everyone shall know how close we are to parting from brown soil

Lamb,hatched chickens,babies born in  Cumbersome air.

the cycle must  complete before we can emerge reborn

Death is inevitable  as necessary as life is to the Cumbaya

of springs first show of petal.

When you look at the beginning of this  new dawn

Know that when you stand back in awe

It is because you have felt the chill of winters soul depart

Shed a tear for the snowman who brought  our youth so much joy.

Appreciate death. Stare it in the face

The sun chants

 count in rosary beads

tomorrow never dies.

Trying to type something while listening and watching my  grandmother dying.

Rasp

Gasp

I support the assisted dying law.  This is inhumane.

A selfish farce.
Happy mothers day

Wherever  you go

Wherever  you roam

I hope that it is a place as magnificent as earths revellers make it out to be

Ma petition fripon. J’taime xxxx

* What I wrote waiting and comforting my ma and my gran before she passed over

When OCD became messy

Shout out to LINDA G stream of consciousness   – check out what it is all about here

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Caught out -over indulging on sexual delicacies.

Orgasming, glow in the dark visuals projected onto her Fantasia cranium mental ceiling.

So novel.

Walls cave in – was it just lust  that caused her to make up all this fuss?

Why did she do it?

once. twice. three times?

Her heart was consumed. ‘Rose-tinted glasses’ a voice shouts out  and presumes.

She thinks there was real depth to some of her proclaimed emotions. How can she even look at another confectionary when she already  has the sweetest deal?

Her dowry is  her  very own Wonka factory.

There was no excuse for her to set foot out of her mind and demand to feel more satisfactory.

Does momma know her better than she does ?

Always want what you can’t have!  5-year-old  drops to the floor.

Toys R us.

Not leaving till she comes outs with  a red, tanked up, M&M replica bus.

Ready to dice herself up and fling herself into a blender – sexting, texting -somewhat fulfilling,

but not having anyone  else to indulge with afterward, leaves her with a rebellious sense that can only be satisfied by means of  tangible  bondage style correcting.

Honest to a breaking point.

Target those she wants to anoint.

Commitment. Did  she truly know what she was taking on?

She realized her demise when she demanded the same form of commitment from some other, partly innocent feckless person in an ‘ I’m- doing -alright‘ disguise.

Bonfire night explosions went off in their usually tranquil  home.

He sat back too long ,let her spirit roam and defend its right to move within another astral zone.

 Kitchen sink drama screams ,sweeping up the spindly staircase.

Mother clocks eyes with her child, rubbing her slumbered eyes – runs to pick her up and wipe away salty tears from her face.

Heart beating wildly. What has she done.

The sickly cost of seeking out more affection afflicting her  startled young.

Time to move forward.

She has respect, love, honesty, faithfulness, a family, laughter and more than she ever thought she deserved.This place under the shady protective arms rooted to the spot – she truly earned

Time to act like a true woman, tend to  her man and family –   like one would a tree – keep those roses -tidy, pruned – this time the tree still stands .

May lightening strike her heart and torment the rest of her living days if this time she hasn’t  learned.