Kalinda

When my Kalinda peers into his reflection he see’s jagged, ragged parts of a body

discombobulate

Staggered yet separate. -body parts sewn together haphazardly.

The truth is stranger than fiction.

How can it be!

his soul mate doesn’t mirror the effort in his deeds.

ffinger nails claw and pierce at skin -prolong hanging flesh separated from bone

VIP’s seated , assume an opinionated speculation into the art of this self destruct –

The blown up bags come from the baldy eagle, wearing a t-shirt that says ‘corrupt -will sell poison to feed my ego.’

Skullbones crossed.

Point in rage to pandora’s obsessive flirtation with suicide.

Maidenhead Hymen annuls her delusional animas.

Make her believe!

it helps her to inhale insecticides.

What is wrong with all that is her?

doesnt she get that her life can be more than a bargain plea?

why does every stonewalled chamber gather breathe from disjointed words,

instead of radiating from true love’s scribbled scribes in blank verse.

Write to recover. Recover to write.

Perform this pantmine on las ramblas , in the hope the days will turn bright.

Supportive cups hold up the excess mounds.

‘damn you look good, healthy, put some weight on’

Must she hear this now? or indeed ever!

It’s too avant garde even for Gaudy.

Face swollen from a sting with an arbitrary drone.

Monthly luna flickers up sheds of decrepit blood clots;

compund that to a portrait that makes her face plump–fits of

dis – ease

– please,

stop with the back handed compliments, hun.

Hands hesitate over arms once scrawny, cheek bones sliced inwards.,

She’s rather own her shame and reach every gaze at her in a state of lean chronic thigh gap syndrome

spongy Food floats

expands

-drowns all sign of hope.

enough self loathing to remedy it with a calibre of a gun.

Date with Russian roulette –

6 chance distractions from this body, this mind ,every part called forward into existence.

five rounds until she lands in the seat of a crash test dummy.

Grief , guilt ,

unpleasant to the taste.

fret bursts in beads of sweat – her few will revolt into petulant demonstrations of

why?

again?

how?

and when?

Get by on hope and luck and a fine mother hen

A good sized egg , pair of irises that delude her into feeling all her sins have been revoked.

For better or for worse

how to be a good wife. 😀 😉

Cause less sorrow.

Talk less tripe

Paper,

rock,

scissors, or masking tape

Talk less.

listen more

love free from doubt

talk .

Decline an upgrade of

 buying into a get one free argument.

Another year passed.

Still eyeballing  the ferocious stye of the hurricane.

 numerous days swept by

side by side

Together.

Manage to keep one another extremist  sane.

Paper kites or paper cuts?

Endure and expand on our own perceived ins and out.

A  test to keep harmony on a scale

Genetically modified pesticide free.

Take one for the team

Roll over Beethoven.

Parasite recoils – breathless corpse.

Rise  scientific soul mates

Abandon host in search of a live love that remains.

 Keep it organic

Atrocities often committed when primitive bare feet leave a  trail  mix of impulse.

Picking out unsavoury nuts  in an odourless panic.

Allergic reaction

 pause on moments passed

lovers instinctive need to recreate

happiness .

Words

displaced.

misplaced.

replaced.

Recapture the beast of time.

never once dawdling – unaware of its power to desecrate.

memory injunction

turnabouts.

Maple honey  squeeze  leads to a scent of forget me nots

Souls connect – diffuse the trigger  wire in the brain.

racing  against accruing

increased deficits

from   the memory bank.

fall

to the knees,

begging,

 ‘please cease fire’

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!

 

and so, they lived…

Life update

I’ve finally received my results for my 1st year, doing my Masters, in Creative writing.

Drum rolls.

PASS-with merit. I officially can use more random letters after my name — ha ha!

I  am now  in possession of a post graduate certificate in the Arts and Humanities!

giphy7

Wow! Amazing.

How’s this going to help me with what I want do?

I have a dream.

I do. 😀

One of my goals is to move back to France. They love people with diplomas. I hope to get a well paid job there. I need to book a trip to The French embassy later on this year. My husband has decided he is going to take on my surname and become a French national.  He’s English!

He’s not only English, he is  Northern, from  West Yorkshire.

d9ef31b42a30d50a71e1a3f446a1dfb5-yorkshire-humour

 

I need to register my Bella Bee as a French national because even though she is more English than I am. Born here.  English Dad and roots. The British government  will not give her a British  passport because I was ordered by her majesty’s court to  register her Fathers name on her birth certificate and now they won’t give her one!

Beauracratic nightmare.

I feel so uneasy about my family not having a passport. My entire life, It was drummed into me to always have my passport (in date)in case, we moved countries.

Which we did- a lot!

Moving on . ( pun unintentionally intended  :D)

What’s  happening in my life?

Loads of shit- ha ha! as usual.

I’m doing better –  I keep making a come back.  Oh, life – you little tease!

Dare me to live.

 Dare me to succeed!

Challenge accepted.

quote-you-can-t-shake-hands-with-a-closed-fist-mahatma-gandhi-83-29-01

 

Daisy’s mental health 

Yeah, it’s been.

up and down,

down ,

down ,

down –

up again ,

very up –

insanely manic,

toxic,

low,

not quite sure

,emotional ,

aargh why did that and that and that and ..

did I do that?

Those kind of moments, really.

 

Surely someone can relate?

Not happy about a medication increase in my anti depressant.

I don’t of any person who is on  (high/ highest legal doses) of

Two antidepressants

Two anti psychotics

Two anti anxiety tablets,

and sleeping medication.

I know  my health posse want the best for me.

I don’t bullshit them.

I tell if I’ve been using shit coping mechanisms, good ones. Thoughts ,feelings…

I made my psychiatrist laugh.

Go me!

giphy8

HE LOOKED EXACTLY LIKE THIS 😉

He offered me psychology therapy — again .

I was like:

‘Look Dr J, seriously every time I sign up to a pyschologist , they leave!’

 All my psychologists have left me half way through  doing whatever new pycho babble, current trend treatment , is used, to deal with folk such as myself.

One dude, fell asleep in a couple of our sessions.

So, I was like

‘ Listen, I know how to use CBT/DBT, I know how to communicate and talk. I know what keeps me well . I just want a cure’

Another laugh escapes from Dr J.

He is a legend.

A legend ? yes, but not a wizard 😦

He totally gets me and I feel I have a choice in medication changes etc..

I’ve asked to come off one of my meds because I don’t see the point of being on it. It hasn’t helped me.

These meds have affected my memory. I’m terrified of getting Dementia. I’ve been on (legal) tablets since I was 13/14 and I’ve never been off medication.

Never!

Talking about memory.

c804e39286ead01e85ea26a0bd9e197c542cde955af0819b32d4751746a7fe41

I’m using my creative outlets to start getting into the open mic poetry scene .

I love performing but my memory is really rubbish. I’m going to brave it by doing more live poetry next week. I’m excited. Nervous.  It’s all good.

I have my final year of my MA to keep me — super  occupied.  There is a lot of work to do. For part of my thesis ( check me out)

I’m thinking of using my blog to interview creative folk who live in my community to talk about, their work,  (durr!)  Creativity and their mental health. My photographer mate is on board to take pictures. Some people have shown interest — yeah!

My heads occupied which is good.

Fab!

Awesome!

How will doing this  help me with my thesis and final work?

Well, I am going to use this year of discovery and research on the link between mental health and creativity as an alternative form of therapy to cope with life’s unpredictable moments.

Then I  will have loads of inspiration to write a film script (120 minutes) on a character ,who , is thrown back into society after a long stint in mental /prison  institutions , and who is looking to find him/herself  and another way of being  and expressing him/herself  positively, in society.

The opening scene will kind of look like this

I have an ending – (a bit abstract at the moment) – saying there words:

‘I look around for the first time with clarity. And see I’m exactly where I need to be. Around the misfits. The beautiful misfits just like me.’

DAISY’S UN NAMED CHARACTER 

It’s all early days and I still have  4 scripts to write, a critique and a character  analysis on a famous playwright to do before the final chapter.

All in all. I’m alive, optimistic-ish, full of emotion, drive, passion , a pain in the ass but just doing my thing. 

All terribly boring really… 😀 

So, I am back!

I can’t commit daily to blogging but I have joined a group on Facebook.  

Shout out to Gary @ fiction is food  for adding me.

It’s a website for us!

BIG UP YOUR BLOG!

Bloggers.

 I’m  a newbie, its good be around other bloggers again. I’m hoping it will keep me  off Facebook and keep me connecting with people like yourself. People who use their time more productively. Doh, oh the irony.

One rant before I go :   I wish people would stop leaving public posts about my appearance on my Facebook.

If you ever happen to read this

I know you are having a shit time dealing with your own weight issues. I’m well aware of mine. Please take a look at yourself. Look after yourself first. If you don’t – FUCK OFF! 

 

That is a wrap.  I know. Hilarious! ha ha!

Thank you so much for reading

Time to step out and live real life..

Catch up soon!

giphy9

What’s everyone else doing with life?  Blogging?

I’m genuinely curious to know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why did I eat That? 😀🤔

Why did I eat that ? 

Any cat will know I’m gonna scream bloody hell I’m so fat.

If only I meant it like I’m cool dealing with  a belly

extended like a starved, fledgling Biafran

Doesn’t mean I’m happy when the scales groan  

-too much mass. 

 

Why did I eat that? 

inhaled beans, and camembert cheese , tuna and pees

Hard core, non divergent, box ticking  Anorexic.

 I can’t throw up. I can’t use laxatives.

I sit with my new found rolls.

Puppy dog

not cute .

Eating disorder   you smutty little tease.

Why did I eat that?

Mushrooms to grow?

 Or shrink my stomach to  give off a sexy new  glow ?

Only so much fungi  I  can  mitigate when I’ve had an oral mastication blow.

This is not a pleasurable job.

Hands cover my eyes. No mirrors must  ever let me know.

 

Why did  I eat that ?

A memoir to torment my self – 30 tablets a day – neck it down

Sit on the psychiatrist  couch.

How about we  lose the meds, you give me the cure

I can show off a palatable pageant, non dentistry crown.

Why did I eat that?

I need energy, Cant go places without any juice

This ole devil gives me every sodamastic excuse.

The answer?

I’m feeling not quite right in the head.

I’m determined to  live out the next 30 years living free of   Bio-Pyscho-Social, self punishment  misuse.

 

 

 

 

The lure of fascination 

Write to recover

Don’t underestimate the power of a few choice words from another.

Still the mind-frozen ice bar decline

Mountain conquest-The victory is in the scenic  songfest

Emotions sprayed in clouds of mist.

A place so far from  the abuse of the daily grit.

Fight to recover — remember hope strives in another day

Feed and nurture this seed-give it an opportunity-don’t let another life sit and decay.

Losing time — people fragmented in a hazy rhyme.

Distance double flips somersaults. Impressive only till the sun dims less radiantly  clocking off to snooze-lay down with others in benign.

Can only write when thoughts form a Congo – order, progress-the dance in this words come from a heart who usually expresses in mime.

Inflicted amoeba-exhaling indignant carbon monoxide. I despise seeking out for the one’s cued up at at destination  ‘one stop’,Integrity lost standing mid line.

Metamorphose into a grey lizard , eagal or indeed be reborn as the mighty phoenix.

Third degree  burns — death — ashes to ashes worth the pain to be reborn into the matrix.

The urge to sin imparts thoughts to defecate-all held sacred in the church of integrity.

Not enough to know the meaning-practice is what gives this value its credibility.

Walk the straight line — fight the inner hate crime.

Searching for a divine sign-reason dictates energy must endeavour with one’s moral  retuning — to refine. 

Speak up for the light that waivers-clinging on to its last breath

Inspired by an element with the capacity to cause devastation or provide a clear path leading to expulsion ending in

 relief.

One wish to formulate all the intelligence into an honest medium of communication

History teaches-not all understand the world on multiple levels of perception of another situation.

Courage to flush  the contents highlighting the spiral of organic destruction.

One day at a time — one moment to lie. Craving for the mythical Elysium.

Compulsive tics  create a house of pain-exhaling tension-contain the nuclear feteus-natures own opium.

Losing track of the words that stumble — imbibed drunks-hungover searching for  a quench of delirium.

Evade – This is the time when courage fails to conquer life’s illusive temptations — the bell tolls-the seekers contort to fits of tingling.

Invisible to the faithful patrons in full  stasis cycle. A burden

a cross —

communication interrupted by Manic pleas to bear Atlas boulder with herculean madness lingering.

Cross eyed staring at the lit up pyres, 

smell of human flesh disintegrate into a ritual released for those travelling the unknown path of death.

Reason can’t imprint enough ink — memories inclined to dementia bouts of forget.

Last nights shallow breathing ,shadows taunt — loom over until the inner eye seeks regret.

Promises made in a plea of  chaotic desperation

Only to be forgotten the day after  the congestion lifts —   arise the sleeping urge to  compete with this  peculiar fascination

 

 

 

 

Head Mace

*Inspired by daily human observation* 

Citizens arrest a seizure

exploding out of her chest

Detest the demise of optimism- look aT that crumpled face

bereft.

Raging carnival trying to stay straight

‘Nature welcomes me’

Though not blinded by an attempt on her savage drinking spree.

Moments owned  in contemplation

Detest she caught a Jack Wills scent  immersed is  his idealised rave nation.

How many  t – issues to imbibe.

Called her his inbred so he could remain high

Sensational arrest

No mirror to attest to the beauty she finds.

searched google maps for Scalifax’s finest hearth.

Should she lay down to rest?

Wait for a sudden epiphany?

Her mind can’t take twocker  ignition games from kids still wet behind the ears,

straggling their momma’s rancid pyjamas

Searching for a place to settle in between her knees.

Scrumpy Jack persona

she assumes

Is she really a cut above the estate who try to convince her they have answers to all the clues?

She’s not like them.

This species are not her brethren.

English cider tasters of blood from a irrefutable provider

Knock heads against tombstones and concrete walls.

Green-eyed,Winkie  slept behind a grill gate to keep out the flybys.

Vulnerable heart -veil lifted from day one.

Chinese whispers of some busy blasted scum

Common decency leaves the palm of her hand -slaps a face hard – its body turns

enthralled at the chance to appear overly occupied.

Enjoy chillled !at 6 percent 

Bad move to guide to her to her own whereabouts

She paid for her own calm connotation.

Guideline on  how to  avoid walking  into a web of sin

Tanned face betrays  that her heart hasn’t felt  akin.

There’s nothing of substance behind the beer goggled eyes.

Monotone life

get up

get dressed,

smoke a roll up

take a sip of the brew that simulates a disguise of content.

She’s not one to say she’s any better than these numbed, train fare skivers

Fun when a teenager…..

Numbers on the  increase –

She thinks they should at least have figured out how to suit up and boot up

Yes, use your all your  ties.

Bound up in this place of besmirching death

Positive energy sniffing up the vibes

conflicted as the amish addicted to meth

Red ant crawling up her thigh

more focused than most humans she has the pleasure to relate to

One mighty jump off this stony  hearth would not be

how she would want end her life

not nigh.

Sun in her heart

Moon never far to seduce her into a twisted cadence with

legs defiantly apart.

‘The settle’ calls her home –  shrieks filled with the ego of the Saint Lies -a Spinne.

What business has she pollinating with  the  bees?

It’s her playground too.

She won’t  let the bastards inject their humdrum existence –

unleash their quiet, unpalatable disease.

Point fingers at an indecipherable colour or sound

The ku klux clan live but one gate from the smack head who sleeps with the blood hound.

Remove these walls ineffectively

Family values, Adams apple samples the hit of threes company too

Humour her, she never  preached to know every pelvic beat.

Extend a hand

Forget not

that one gaze will settle reflectively

Don’t make another feel uneasy

Solely because it’s you who feels Queasy.

Smirking at them playing it cool

Do they think she is a brassic , court  jester fool?

Indulge  them she does.

but only because she knows the truth

They live a life that’s  ambiguously impenetrable.

The difference between the simple life and herself ?

Empathy.

Compassion.

An open mind.

Sentiments branded on her – costs three lifetimes in wages to wear her kind of fashion.

Attempts at making her feel she is wrong and potentially illiterate.

It’s beyond a joke – she plays naive – she knows  they are a hoax

She treads through a land full of tossers

Pity not more of them get fired off into a land of terrorist moshers.

Feelings misgiven

This drink was an attempt at a pitch

It’s not her style.

impetigo limper

brewed up to tease pacman eating jack and jills in a ditch .

Irate she  saw integrity  in one other smothered core.

Ineffectual – yapping up intoxicated mummies three day old pyjamas.

Think it’s an accomplishment to shove her mistrials in front of her face?

How many more fuck you’s  and put up’s must to deal with?

Momma doesn’t need their  drama’s?

The issue with people who stick together in stitches

is that without an audience -without a chase

they will dangle that carrot

especially when their  life is on the down

squinting them  into the glitch.

They need her kind more than her kind needs theirs .

Empty out  the contents of a full can of scrumpy poison

One factor in blurring all boundaries.

Is it fair to intoxicate nature with man -made hootch?

She’s repulsed – she sees them all  their stark naked  form

such is her clarity

who to label as a warning ‘ there goes another douche’ ? 

ethics, medics, system of values- it’s an appeal to their humanity.

Need to get out

Get out of this space

She can see she’s playing into this heinous fate.

She makes her rules

She breaks the rules

only because she knows them so  well- lets state she knows how to present the look of

I’m off my face 

Temptation heel to her command

She regrets inaction of  strength she  usually ordains

only this time she lacks

Fuck it , she is done with the cloud of visual  mace

She’ll get hammered at a location ,

on her request,

digest

satiate

Can she have a mirror?

Third eye awaken to  the true head case.

Photocredit Francessa woodman