Go with the flow.
Instigate the wrong blow.
Cassidy never knows that what she reaps is what she will sew
Calamity caught stitching — a bleeding heart— on the floor in the kitchen
Screams and howls.
Blowing off steam.
If only this was some form of dream.
Think not .
Think nothing — don’t go over each scale unless you are retuning for the next —strumming.
Take a hammer to dead cartilage
What’s the point in discriminating?
We all dine in silence secretly trading under the table of Carthage.
Dead mothers — don’t miss them when they disappear.
Lucky girl-she is the true foe.
Deny a credible witness but accept one day of fake snow at Christmas.
If there is a will there is way-understand the burden is useless-all that we inhale.
Heads talk of the grand hubris of being impaled.
Brain dead wrote this amongst a pesticide raid.
Shades of locust. Supposed to be more focused.
Blanks fill this page. The dud is conscripted to engage.
Breath wanton to exhale.
*Just something I knocked up when I was in a bad head space a couple of months ago
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.
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.
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.
*WARNING GET THE VIOLEN AND CELLO’S OUT-it’s all very woe is me.*.
Here something to lift the mood? There is optimism lurking from the shadows… ha ha!
I followed a trail
To a rock with scurvy emotions inside of me.
Don’t know what to expect.
All the rage, ignorance, silence
bleaches the promise of a future sapling tree.
Astrology says we have a Destiny, and there’s a part
Who revels in the nostalgic quest within me.
Why do I shirk off those who encourage my rays to reflect outwards?
Why do I seek out on my impulses, toxins to detract from my light?
Keep me from growing into a burst of melody I can shout out to the cowards.
Confidence issues get the best of me
it’s just all about
It isn’t-it’s also about my husband , my Bella bee.
When I enunciated my vows last June-what a chirrupy day.
I didn’t have a clue what commitment to another meant
That I would be required to stop mid flight and stay.
Stagnant breathe, I cry out for security
Inside it’s all I’ve needed to explode into full maturity.
I write aplenty about letting go
The rage, the ability to let it stop over analysing my creative flow.
Seeking out what exactly?
Roses thrown at my feet every hour?
Incase I forget in my self and believe I am merely dour.
I crave a prism of connection and escapism.
All I want is to answer my own question.
What is my purpose?
The birds murmur in their usual stanza of cursive.
Have I ever learnt the language of civility?
Emotions have tripped me over
Surprised to appraise the sky admiringly
I’m chasing after the elusive high
Frequent in multiple forms.
Sometimes a shape in a human form of a fungi 😉
sigh, me and my warped sense of humour
Desperately trying to prover I need a holiday under my current demeanour.
the rage inside is never quelled .
I write and I write yet the tears continue to overspill.
Reticent to see what is standing in front of me
I look up
and despite the majestic scenery,
I feel the weight of my guilt-dissecting me into bits to use as flotsam at sea.
One small town to the next
Happiness is a state of mind
Not some hidden idealist.
A paradox of uncertainty
Believe in me-
The true person outside of my physicality.
I’m not stating I’m beautiful or full of grace.
I do believe I am unique .
This is more than a hope or a whim.
I don’t see absolute distaste when I glance at my face.
The simple moments, the words , the memories that won’t hold on.
I have a purpose-some path to walk without feeling triste
Emotional depths descend into an abyss — it ranks.
I adore the ocean ,I hate that I need technology to breathe in, and gasp.
I’m not a shipwreck lying on the floor who gave up and sank.
I’ve learnt how to swim and fight,
For what its worth.
What do I want with this life-streaked ,woven into nature’s tapestry?
Here ,little bird ,come closer unlock the coded language that will show this mystery is more than a pyscho spieling diatribe of empty soliloquised solecisms
Heart stammers .
Side by side a pack of soulless zombies.
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.
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.
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.
I’m having a nervous breakdown
No tear gas needed to see my features frown.
Give up, let go.
It doesn’t matter.
Give in , give away the words
I write from my inner chatter.
Pride may come before a fall.
This writer is mad and frenetic enough to bawl.
Sleeping alone with a furry bengal.
Live and breathing, nightmares shedding one too many a ghoul.
I live in fear of letting myself fail.
It’s more innate stubbornness that leaves my face pale.
I’m sick of over achieving. I’m jaundiced from worry.
Projectile thoughts invade my space. illegal immigrants hide in my quarry.
Work so hard and see no results.
When I see the rainbows end -I may watch the blood seep from my wrists.
The mind won’t let me have a moment off.
Fatal escapism needed
a dose fit for a carcinoid cough.
Every moment – liquid drains my lungs.
when talcum powder is blown into organs.
Mop up creativities flow.
I can’t breathe in this dungeon.
Get out of my way ,don ‘t look at me – snarl and bite a portion out of your flesh.
Vegan turn rotten, core bound up with an unnerved bile uprise.
Human machine venting for my inability to refresh.
Hold up my dignity
keep me in stents;
make sure I don’t end up in a coffin embellished with the last person buried alive.
A scene far too surreal and intense.
I’m a lunatic.
You scare me but dammed if I will roll over and play dead.
Like sand through the hour glass
blink once and the deadline is almost head over arse.
I’m scared of failure
I want to be the man to pull out exacaliber.
Merit and knighted.
how shallow glory is,
I’m far too short sighted.
Immobilized in a zombie fashion
Micheal Jackson thriller
Nearly forgot to yell ‘action’.
Take me to a planet fermenting in sushi.
I need a trip to find my very own mighty booshy.
Writing is my hoochie. 😁
Sights of sanity
conquest over humans infamy.
moving faster than the speed of light.
computers can’t process the spoken word
lose track of sight.
race to expose hidden epiphany.
vocabulary fails Athena from reaching success in the liturgy.
damn harmonisation – pomadera technique.
Time management -father grant one hour for those deaf,dumb and blinded
By the oppression tumble from the mouth of the libertarians speech.
hypophysectomise critical on the downfall .
Search engine optimises – tracks a perfect pitch call.
Saviour hear these mantras sent up in earnest.
it’s for the greatest good Nottinghamshire’spoorest.
Bath bubbles wait for a body that has matter .
69 spoonfuls of bio oil smooth out the stretch marks-
dissolves the fat cats.
Watch them scatter.
Enemy pilots covert zombie nuns in a pig stye
Overthinking- condensates these cloud tufted ideas.
The flow loses integrity – it stands for the lie.
Shaking bones to release the overspill.
Athena won’t be a subject to her own life gains and losses.
Stay true to her style.
No sounds of a Swedish rehashed assembly
lined out to bear all our crosses.
Stunted by the overthink- look away from her spinal index
a mind blinks in epiletic seizures.
Unsanitary insults tossed around,
a tussled rustle
Nomad hiding in the bushes
He doesn’t whether he’s angry or horny
Either way should fuck some common sense into her.
Spaces so tight it has to play its ordained key.
Sounds of queer folk living off Givenchy.
Rumours, ill gotten behaviour
pussy cat kneeding into yesterdays lingerie.
Not so much economical as busy with the normal day to day.
No digits on the clock,
time shows up in a 5 year old making intelligible sentences.
Forced to awaken from her slumber.
Time lapsed under the sound of a deity clapping out thunder.
what’s up with the pretences?
Athena peers into the eyes of a child not so new born.
whispers ‘listen with both ears’
Goddess takes her own advice and is graced with the miricle of life;
she succumbs to tears.
Finally managed to get up on the retrograde.
Trumped on an ally.
Her apoligies can still be heard in the fade.
Outed for having an opinion.
Offended the entire faith of chritianity.
exhiled by her father figure.
She stands her ground where other men bow their heads.
Money makes a human weak in the teeth.
One fine day the bull will take off his horns when in pause mode.
The eagle will descend and emotions will spill out of its beak
hybridisation is the result of such an offload.
Glitter , maroon -carpets may seize the day and fly.
Although the author of these words questions the reason why.
Calling out to a nation of intellectual breeders.
They never want to hire former institutionalised life seekers.
Whose truly deserving of at least the 90 th chance?
Some people don’t even live to experience their own wedding day dance.
Stuttering over each word. Tempted to cuss.
Athena refuses to get stuck in reverse.
Ready to fertilise blood with the dark night of the soul.
Athena never passes up a challenge
time to stop her before she’s crying over spilt milk
Betrayal overheard by a righteous all seeing mole living in a borrowed hole.