Hi Lo Perspective

*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

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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.

I’m fuming.

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 —

Y.ankee

O.scar

B.ravo

S.ierra –

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.

Agenda?

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!

socsbadge2016-17

Weeds need no moonshine

When you’r feel you’re hanging on the vine,

remember- a seed push forth a mighty sign.

You must  take the sunbeams and treasure what’s thine

Wild Kansas City  is but one destination on the sign

Take hope, light and lose the animosity ,

for inside there is no monstrosity

Get yourself  caught speeding in high  velocity.

It’s not a train smash —  no not a catastrophe.

When you’re stuck in the middle of time.

Jump off the fence ‘cos that’s doing yourself a crime.

Don’t you let commoners  think your words cannot define,

Your value , worth and dreams  are not benign

Take it from the apple tree

He allows fruit to aid in his victory .

oh don’t , hide yourself like a willow tree

Cry, but remember you have a destiny.

Everything will be fine — look up —  allow the clouds to throw some shapes.

Open  them wide , mind expand — understand the lessons from life’s true greats.

You’re already one them-slightly chipped — still most valuable of porclain plates.

Never doubt  what you can do —   take a leaf from natures golden ratio

You radiate when you guide the fates.

Lets’ lasso this  up and keep your spirit wild

Grow tall — never lose your inner child.

A silly poem  to spread to the crowd

Accept   her quirks  — light hearted ,silly sap —  never lose a day when she has smiled.

*I’m feeling less heavy hearted and more like my old self these days. I was inspired by the song ‘This little light of mine’. live, love, don’t hold as grudge. Remain true to who you are and you won’t stand alone for long.

A song a mate shared with me. Happy vibes. I defy you not to feel happy listening to this. 

 

 

i

 

 

 

 

The yo yo man

Girl bets he weren’t always  so plastic.

Fell deep into a pool of eyes that hinted at a heart full of fantastic .

The world is now a bit colder.

Sun shines even a little bolder .

Don’t know why son  pushed away the  great play to his heart when it only allowed   the   room temperature  to stagnate into a cancerous cadaver

now 30 years older.

Harsh cold facts .

Perspective  bound by smaller minds clouded in a haze of toxic, inner house attacks.

Girl weeps to know two doors down

son and mother abuse each other.

We  were all once innocent.

We all grow up  to the reality of life.

We all make mistakes .

Son hides  behind a pointed finger for a cover

to save face from only himself.

 No-one else

 not even the one he now calls his true blood brother.

Girl weeps

 walls whisper inferior

by the son 

 the pedantic,

semantic,

sexist,

passive aggressive

virus carrier.

Girl bets he wasn’t always so plastic.

How many more years is he gonna carry on sucking lemons?

sitting on  a pedestal of empty   cans

spitting out condescending  pips and belittled bits?

A hard,long way to fall

blaming.

Always taking the moral high  ground.

Amongst  the smudges of smugness

girl saw  a glimmer of  his original fantastic.

Lines crossed – militant gas -lighting to the ones on a lost path.

Characters don’t need to be shouted down at.

raise son’s ego so he can live amongst the Olympian Gods;

Temporarily.

Devastation – pride miseducation

can be the  only aftermath.

Girl weeps – reasoned  with her heart – trouble found her passing inappropriate affection.

Misdirected intention.

Hands up.

This time she won’t carry the  burden when she floundered  in son’s manipulation and rejection.

Players play a part.

Games lose all fun when the son only sees  people he can step on

Heighten an evoking,  abstract canvas.

  Draw out a new horizon.

Fickle foe.

A disappointed son

finds he has exhausted all misaligned souls of their energy.

Turns up the abuse and sticks a knife into a beating , drumming heart.

Blood trickles 

overflows the space with shades of reds and blue hues.

Trurh be told.

It’s better to have everything  to lose  and still walk tall with purpose

than to

 live an inebriated lie.

Hoaxing  folk with a demeanour of  nothing to lose.

Eventually,we all have to play our cards.

suffer the consequences of our  enacted desires.

Girl weeps  for the carbon copy spirits

consciously conscious of losing sense of all self .

Grab a hoe

dig for more dirt to throw on  misplaced bodies

 already buried vertically .

son’s light gets  dimmer.

The deities stole their fire back.

Girl  bets he weren’t always so plastic .

Spinning dog – hounding smaller animals with greater  spirits.

Poacher trophy show case

in a house of broken doors,overflowing ashtrays, side way glances.

Specks of dry spit spewed from another night screaming in an accusatory fit.

Close the curtains on the yo yo man – the son that once  shone  vivid, in the coat of arms,  bearing fantastic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nah!

Life update

 What a difference 7 days can make!  The only way I know to keep myself out of trouble is to scare the shit out of myself  – ha ha!

Write  to recover and then perform to recover. ;D

I’m moving forward again.

‘Fight the good fight’ as Charles Bukowski said.

Go big or go home.

The video isn’t great quality but I’m. sharing it more to reaffirm to myself that I have just as much to bring and give as the next person.

Something I jotted down last night. I’ver  lived in big cities and   many  small towns in different countries  (maybe some people can relate) and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m done trying to show others (especially people who live in small towns)  I too have my own ideas and share similar interests etc…

It doesn’t mean I’m better or anyone else is better than me  It means I am  who I am and the world is bigger than where I currently live.

I’ve been looking for a genre for the kind of poetry I do. I couldn’t find anything that I fit into. So I introduce ‘in yer face ‘poetry.   Inspired by ‘in yer face’ theatre.  That’s me and that is how I write and I’ve found a niche and I finally feel okay. with not being everyone’s favourite read  or person.  ha ha!

IN YER FACE POETRY –  first coined by me, Daisy Willows  aka Natasha Bodley – taking 100% full credit for it.  ha ha!

 

I’m finally going to take the advice of other people and get something published- not because I want to make loads of money but because it shows me that nothing is impossible.

So far when I’ve  applied thais  mantra to my thoughts and life  -It has worked.

My definition of in yer face poetry 

‘ poetry that is blatant, honest, provocative ,emotional and not pretty or fancy or written to hide reality.

DAISY WILLOWS

women1

 

‘ Don’t be disappointed if you get rejected especially if you have made an effort to fit in. Farms are driven by human chains to contain. It’s highly unlikely that an animal bred to serve will accept you , especially if you are an animal who was born in the jungle or the savannah. Adapt , be resourceful and keep your spirit wild and free.

March to the beat that allows you to walk side by side with others, to lead others, be led  or walk alone. Acceptance is but one way you feel secure and shouldn’t be a reason to stay in one place.

Remember those who wander and drift out of their comfort zone will always find kindred souls who get the idea that acceptance can be found in those who know security comes from within. Choose to roam and meet other spirits who remind you why you live life

. Don’t stick around waiting for people to get you or accept you. Keep moving and you will never be far from those who accept your different attitude, culture and traditions.

Embrace the misfits . They are the most intriguing and loyal spirits who will make an effort to teach you their ways and be as eager to understand your ways.’

 

 Daisy willows

The one word summary  to the above is this.

ROSA park

Back on track….  Thanks to those who have been so supportive.

I’m still a newbie at doing open mic but what a great crowd and I’m so honoured to have had a chance to share a space with so many incredibly talented singers, comedians, poets/artists  who welcomed  this blooming weed into their little home and embraced me like a friend who had been away travelling.

Apologies for the poor quality video. Will try and upload a better one but tbh all you see is the back of me ha ha!  Not very exciting.

Still waiting for my MA results but I’m ready for year two!

 

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.