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

 

 

 

 

Rag of bold

Stop having a go  at me, Miss ‘

Then use your intuitive and stop asking me if it’s okay to stop and have a piss.

I’m not your momma. I’m not your carer.

Any more of this inaction and I ready to to scare yer.

I’ve had enough of your lack of ambition.

Lack of adventure — you pierce my nerves with razor precision.

Take a risk, go gungho!

Dress to impress-

I’m telling you-to get on with the show.

I’m done having to prompt  you to use your mind

Its like ,dude-honestly – I’m about to implode from frustration — storied deep inside.

I can’t think for the both of us.

Seriously,mate – I’m strong minded-had to work out my way to suss-out

life

navigate

Talk to people.

A random  stranger!

Just don’t take candy off them unless you want to end up thinking you’re a KAKKA ranger.

I’m compromising with all the patience I can muster.

Yes, I’m hard headed, strong, independent-.

Blow the dust from your inner mind —  here, take my new sublime duster.

You have all the tools. I can’t speak for you.

Have a go.

Live,

experience.

Life is for living the most Avant-Garde show.

There is nothing wrong with being different,

But, seriously…

My hearts switching to scales that don’t under stand how to stay consistent.

Have some gumption.

Seize the day!

 What is the point in  demonstrating against  the unsaintly, Theresa May?

I crave excitement, adventure, moments and endeavours.

My blood goes cold when I see you stumble-a face frayed it tethers .

I can just about carry my own daughter.

Get on with life — or sign yourself up for the slaughter.

I may seem cruel and misdirected .

Take on responsibility for your perceived  sense of a pathway defected.

I love you, I do .

Yet, you infuriate me —  these four walls are suffocating me. You should understand one word from all this “blue”.

A colour to drive terror into the minds of  men

I’m living as a woman — a choked mind from  within.

I have my own issues. I stumble on this path.

Leave your issues behind you or tell every fucker about them.

What they think is not relevant to you moving forward.

Have confidence in your own self .

I’m screaming cos  you won’t make a move.

I know playing chess can take some rudimentary  decision.

Can’t you just side hop the rules and get into the groove?

I’m not asking you to be Kylie.

Flirt with her if it makes you feel Styley Wiley.

I’m doing the best I can.

Summon up that courage-I know is inside you-

Take charge and be that man!

 

*Inspired by #peoplejustdonothing 

Do or die

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 unsensational one dimensionals

 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

bipolar, institionalised,

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.

It’s.

Something.

 New.

No.

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 do,

 i do…

I do..

 life.

I keep up appearances until the night terrors pull me out of my bed, torture me under veiled sight.

 Days

 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.

 Fakery

 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

 reciprocate.

Technology has purpose – it’s not for living life in a kumbaya state.

So many lies,

people all have ties

Issues-

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.

selfish,

marred

 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 –

Well overdue.

 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.

 Be humble.

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

DAISY
Xxx

 

Star crossed other

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.

Forlorn, unhopeful.

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

her desire.

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.

Shamed

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.

Dramatic scene.

Bus stop revellers turn heads

eager for a spectacle.

hot tempered

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

society

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.

Nothing mattered

Only now,

another chance to show him- somehow he would think.

that girl -WOW! 

Fight for her

somehow.

over imbibed, arguments stippled in blackouts.

New starts

fresh

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.

Seasons changed

again.

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.

Birds out

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?

A dare,

 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.

 All continues

 winter clearly signaling death and rebirth to come.

His posturing lingered long in her mind.

She fathomed

reasoned

 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 😀

Look up

Signs of life cautiously peek around the jagged  wall. Gently  calling out that it is okay to be vulnerable and strong.

Look up, oh naked child of zombies heaven. Trust in the pureness of dressing yourself like the day you took your first breath – inhaled oxygen and exhaled carbon dioxide.

Life and death are intimately connected.

Fear .

So fearful of life.

Fear not to stand up and let your breasts fall beyond the pencil rule of if you need to wear a corset or bra.   😀

Remember ,death is unknown – it is a forgotten memory – another state of consciousness.

Believe in standing – blemished , untouched, unpolished , un- cropped.

Believe  that your natural skin color is right. Whatever color it is . It is yours and it covers you so well. Protects you from elements like sticks and stones and winds and snow.

Hair – leave the three hairs on your toe. Men do. It’s winter – allow yourself to be comforted by your own body and warmth .

You are a miracle. Don’t look away – you give a lot away .

Don’t regret what you give.

Don’t regret what you feel .

It is by being naked and bare that you are able to connect with everyone you meet- – every crack in the wall is a sign that you have fought to reach out and make yourself complete.

You embraced the air- you fought to feel – you fought to care.

This prison is in your mind. Don’t fear to blossom, sweet soul. Don’t cover your mouth. Smile and laugh – you captivate the world with your unique laugh and you give other people a chance to respond and feel bold.

Rings can’t bind you,   in truth , the earth is probably flat.

Your arm symbolizes a crane – you are the hope that can only be the change.

embrace every fear.

Say yes to everything you feel will move your forward- will cut the strings of setting you loose from the puppeteers, brainwashed in stagnant gestation.

Walk silly, bounce -be flat footed . We all walk in our own peculiar way.

Don’t hide – don’t hold your breath – you deserve every single breath.

Your heart is your greatest ally – your mind is brilliant – allow it to think – allow your thoughts to come out in speech bubbles .

Be a comic, a novel, a flash piece of fiction, a stream of consciousness – don’t hide that captivating mind.

Your tears have kept me alive- nourish yourself – replenish your needs too.

Drink and rehydrate.

Eat and don’t allow barbed thoughts to intrude on your time to  re-energize.

Time won’t stop. You know it only moves on with or without you. So look up and look at me. See your reflection and see your soul is pure -forget about what has been.

Own every line, every dent, every scar on your body- that is your own personal narrative and don’t be ashamed – it is what makes up your flesh – you are not a character you are a fully fleshed out person.

You wounds are your path , your trail, your journey. Create much more if you want – but be gentle.

If only you would look up so I could see the color of your eyes. If only you would smile – would it reach up to meet your eyes?

 

 

* Today’s stream of consciousness was inspired by LINDA G’s word prompt ‘YES’ and a random  image that I googled of  someone’s work I admire. Thank you, CAKE for always inspiring me and pointing me to Art that I connect with.

Francesca Woodman 1958-1981

socsbadge2016-17

I believe,to create something different we have to do something different.

Have a have fab weekend.

You have a voice and a mind and a heart – use it. Don’t let others intimidate you. Be free.

DAISY 

XOXO  ❤ ❤

 

Hidden and Bound

words tantalize her  very mind.

every adjective ,every noun resounds in the primal part of her -hidden and bound.

Let loose to its device it would seduce a nation of puritans .

Her sin is her lifestyle.

She  heard this from the one  who set her mind free with tempting condiments.

Honey dripping, swarming bees pollinating with a delicate fleur.

opening one up to her fullest bloom – Every species took one look at her and at the same time uttered the name: Allure.

Saucy enough to steam  rouge to her usually pale cheeks.

Thoughts of rollicking in clouds, scented of  meadow dew satin sheets.

Thorns might sting when they draw blood from the skin,

only you will know if it is worth pursuing the unrequited ache from the arousing pain consuming you from within.

Tempting, stealthlike- scented  whispers , send flowered vines, to contain too much movement, from  your limbs .

skin on skin contact  is pure.

where is the shame of needing  to remember what it is to live -fill the arid ,parched crevices, in need of moist hymns?

Trust, this fleur won’t hurt you, not even when  you tempt her with mental visions that send her sweet nectar  into a  frenzied hive  -alerting drones, intoxicated .

Merely, one queen combing  her hair – let down your guard -let go of the bumbling confusion.

She can  protect you,stop you  from ignoring the drumming of  what your heart truly  yearns,

 Connected by an  incongruent rhythm , a dance you  both control by merely partaking in making up the infusion.

Lilac and lavender -fields of frivolous laughter and secret ,coy smiles.

Lay down in fields born out of mother nature –   her approval aligns your contoured bodies  by joining in with earth tremors – exasperating your gratified sighs.

Free spirited, close to the ocean. She wants to be entangled – one body -a symbiotic union  of something quite close to adoration.

Waves of emotions to deep sea dive in. La Tresor de la Mer – reeds, fish, seabeds ,caves to navigate together – dive in the deep end to begin with this exploration .

How to know if two souls are meant to keep the other lit?

 A meeting of minds – a meeting of many kinds before one can promise the other that somehow  they can see how it will come together and fit.

Hold your breath and enjoy the ride. Don’t struggle against the motion, the tide , leave la Mer to her dramatic side.

When you stop fighting and accept that water was 9 months of your   first gilded breath.

Will we know if,

 we are meant to glide and soar and tumble in the same sky -with nothing to hide -publicly side by side.

*photo credit Christine, Jules (Julianna) Tomei