pycho phantic heathen

Write to recover is what I always say.

I’ve discovered,

Is  few of my words  leave me whirling with  – I’m proud to park,  pay and display.

Deals are made,

devils I summon.

People are abused, Charity leaps to a new order of Coven.

I write this way, with careless affray

to not lose a sense that words are tangible,

if  I work my fingers to imprint my genetic copyright

Confirming my DNA.

Some might say,

I try too hard

To write for better days .

Left to my own devices. I would live in clouds wrapped up in  grey hues-

a cemetery for all the left over  fillings

Thrown away, because of corrosive mouth decay.

In yer face!

Borderline – on the rocks.

I write to prove I’m far removed from serving  more time, in a straight jacket in New  Jack City.

Gangsters running around with silver bullet signed glocks.

I’v’e spent my better days basking in  previous glory .

Like butter it melts away the fear  of sleeping dormant .

One wrong box and I’d have been mistaken for a Tory.

Liberal with my words, eager to serve and love all my friends with creative pulses .

Tic tacs, I guzzle-colours textured in obscure.

I fight these escapism ,  inauthentic, paradise bomber  impulses;

To get high with — to lose track of time.

To think

I need a  potion of artificial wired, chemistry alternatives.

Usually these act as a placebo.

Serve to knock off my crown of  free willed determinism.

Courage lives in a mane,

a city  near Massachusetts

Puritans might discover I’m Freud in a ghostly slip.

I’ll be hung ,

Hands lie limp by my side.

Bled feathers  will tickle  the crowd-

Show I  bluffed my way into the inner circle of creatives who have a grasp of the

same

sane

 mundane

chain.

Heads up!

Forever chasing  the dragon of stream  of consciousness .

My thoughts fail me,

I’m beginning to think,

I’ve become presumptuous.

The kindness in others  words — to allay my anxieties,

Overwhelms me .

I tie my own tubes.

Disgraced.

I refuse to give birth to a dancer  with stubs for toes, phalanges pimped out to strike a  quivering echo-like ,   Margot  Fontaine pose.

Inner fear corroborate with the sinner without a legitimate C.V.

Write nonsense-

The Lakers swan to the crowd

I’m a nutter.

I’d   crack a prince just to see a picture  of  a colourful scene.

Abstract,

Mindful – in  the lines.

It’s not important.

Just a visual spray of shamanic chakras to impregnate the rainbow-I foresee.

Leprechaun leave my latin beats to breathe.

Mouth the words of soft brie , camembert and  wild boar.

Grant me a baguette —    riddle away, and I’ll gather my thoughts to satisfy thee.

Goddess Luna grants a cycle to merge with my  rites in fertility.

Thoughts exiled to Siberia-paid to be alone.

My government  saves me.

My soul

I will put down-

Though I know I won’t gamble it all away.

I win back my losses

Trust me, I know there is always another day.

Write, write , write.

Each word is a  middle finger at the writers academia  establishment .

I don’t want to be even  almost famous.

I don’t need a book with my name on it.

I blog merely to pour my inner most thoughts out — free up my world.

It’s about as poetic as I can get.

How about I insert the word fragrant?

I’m not academic.

My passion is not systemic .

Always in a position to sky dive.

Risks thought about

After I land in the hornets hive.

Stings heal .

It reminds me I feel.

I live by my words ‘cos I’m irksome and caustic within.

I was born walking into  webs of contradiction

and, now,

All I beg is for  is a hint  of credit

For expressing myself in this audacious fashion.

I’m not here to chat ’bout literary success.-

I’m already thinking about my post party dressed as myself-

the bodacious writer ,

Who is in fact a sycophantic heathen.

*INSPIRED BY A COMPLETE MELT DOWN IN MY ABILITY TO WRITE AND FINISH MY MASTERS*

 

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Trigger fish out of water syndrome

It’s been a while since I’ve done a non poetry /stream of consciousness post.

There’s been a shit load going on in the Willows, and every time I think I need to put my thoughts in a post-,life crops up. haha!  Life, damn you!

giphy

Since June  2016 ,I’ve  felt all the positive vibes I usually throw out to the right people shrivel up  into  dead  petals.

The fragrance  of mustard gas  toxins in my mind and body have knocked me out. I’ve tumbled  into a fitful slumber – ignorant to the   natural  effects of the  buzz of Life.

I’ve  become ashamed.

Ashamed because I was finally in the best place I’ve ever been in my life.

And I decided to self sabotage.

Here is the weird logic.

Sometimes, when I feel like creeping back into my comfort zone, I retreat from all the people who  treat me with respect , encourage me to carry on being creative and love me , give me chances to rise and  make a difference in my own life and possibly in others. I become a scorpion in defence and attempt to  sting myself to death.

It’s a primitive response – commanded by his most rational Amygdala.

No chance I’m going to let anyone else crush me. Haha! I will do it myself at my own hands or tail… even.   

Suspicious mind sets in.

giphy1

The thing is my self destructive tail  shrank while I was living life allowing myself to be confident, taking compliments, getting ahead ,  climbing the arduous trek uphill, and finally relishing the view  on top of my own mountain .

I  had already  started the process of  adaptation, in response , to the good fortune I’d made in my life.

Let my guard down.

In fear of being who I have always wanted to be, I fleed with my stumped tail,  roamed the desert and searched  for a medley  of creatures and elements to crush me.

I know this sounds abstract.

I recently went to an open mic night for people in recovery from various addictions, and one girl  came up on stage  and performed a piece about her strange and unusual relationships with toxic people.

It’s almost like a  buzzword. I hear this phrase everywhere’

‘don’t let toxic people into your life

I do get it.

I understand  that I don’t need to be on drugs, or overdosing or starving myself to hurt myself.

sometimes, when I feel self destructive, I seek out people who I think need saving or who can help me escape me or they seek me out. It’s not something I’m aware of until it’s too late.

These people are attracted to me like gravity. Vice versa.

These people become a drug.

There is an allure, a peculiar drive to chase after them. Hang onto every kind word spoken , every sweet gesture.

Then when  they wake from a spell of disallusion- or they feel they have been stirred in the wrong direction,or  an ingredient they needed to feel good about their current situation is added too lightly or heavy handedly; They turn on those they see as weak and prepared to put up with their bullshit.

I liken this behaviour to a rather lethal bad batch of substances or hootch .

I  refuse to walk away,  I guzzle up swigs of insults and snort up the  all the flaws that make up my chemistry.

giphy2

Eventually, they take all their own self loathing, regret, frustrations  and issues and dump it on me.

There is strength and vulnerability in me. I’ve never wanted to build a wall around who I am.

I’m transparent.

I may do shitty things and its no excuse when I say,

I’m always upfront about it.

I always let the people in my life know what’s going on.

Where I am at.

I  tend to do this with people I have just met too. I’ve hid myself for so long. If people can’t get me from the start, then I’d rather know sooner than waste precious time.

It’s not an excuse to do shitty things to other people.

I choose to tell people what I’ve done/doing. Good and bad.

I confess, I usually  have a lot to lose -most of the time.

9472470aa2469ef2d22810e89b602815-depression-suicide-truth-quotes

 I’m blessed to have a small circle of  family and friends who are  ready to take my hand and help me out of the jungle.

Help me leave the ones who are in the thick of it ,simulated  and hanging out with  familiar,  estranged  animals. They are trying to survive.

It’s hard to take a knock. It’s facile to blame others for your setbacks. I’ve done that in my life over and over.

Many times.

It’s only when I decided to make a conscious choice to make peace with my past, and take responsibility for what I do now, have I been able to bounce back quicker from life’s trials and moments of fuckery.

It’s obvious, right?

 Blaming others for how you feel is hardly going to solve your problem ,is it?

I’m full of passion, empathy  and I can be blunt,I do speak my mind  and  I can be a soft touch.

Disastrous in the wrong hands.

It becomes difficult to keep my mouth shut and not  turn the remnants of my poisonous tail  on those who hurt me.

i-am-a-thug-and-i-will-cut-you-prettypussy-9626746

Passion floods through my veins. Bubbles over.I retaliate  especially after seeing someone else’s  imperfect life. After listening to their feelings and ideas and dreams. Reaching out and saying, ‘ I’ll be there for you’ .

These people usually say: I didn’t ask for your help – ( it doesn’t stop them from taking it when it suits them)

It’s hard not to retaliate when family, friends or an acquaintance who  I’ve trusted to divulge so much about myself, in things I trust they won’t use against me, because of our common acknowledgement that we listen, don’t judge and empathise.

I retaliate at hypocrisy and denial.

I retaliate  when a person uses ammo to hurt me and then cries in a murky pond of self pity  at what a scoundrel I am! 

 when I give it back to them- in their language. People dont like being spoken back to  in fluent asshole. It’s usually my last resort.

It takes courage and stupity  to allow another to  hurl a  barrage of abuse at you. This can be subtle- only you know it is abuse because of what it does to your mind and emotions.

To have  someone  not understand how or why or  even care, that  they are poking my underbelly;

To try and  reason with a person who can only see how hurt they are – how what has been said  to them is far worse than what they have said, is frustrating.

Bashing heads  together-over and over. It becomes consuming and frustrating. I just want to record what we have already gone over, press play.

Stuck in a loop. Trying to move forward.

Attack!

Go away. 

Wait, I need you.

Welcome to radio station FM  mixed signal.

In my experience, I’ve met many people who are going through their own shit storm,and instead of looking to fix themselves they will  throw sticks at another’s issues.

Some do try and fix themselves but are surrounded by other toxic people who hold them back.  Their dreams and goals become more obscure and more difficult to make out.

The  other ones caught up in the spiral of habitual self abuse can’t help but bring others down with them.

So,

Why do I feed into these wonderful people who are full of heart  and pointed edges?  I can see they  are clearly awash with troubles.

Why cant I leave them alone?

 the nature of addiction is  compulsive and obsessive.

It’s agonising to know the psychology of toxic people and know what they are doing, feel immoblised and, desperately hanging on to my sense of self. The voice that usually stand ups and says

I won’t take this. I know who I am. 

is replaced by a mouth stitched up in apathy.

A shell of myself holding tightly onto hope.

Its not the person its their behaviour.

Hard to swallow until my passion and sense of justice regurgitates all their abuse, the cold words, the push and pull effect.

It’s hard not to expect people to be on your level- it is worth training your mind and heart to expect little from people.

Especially the people who let their guard down.

Am I the only one who can be around certain people and not feel self conscious?

 Not doubt  my intelligence, ability, my ideas and my very being?

I’m not left questioning  If I am worthy.

Then,

there are the people in full bkoen toxic mode, who will take all the positive energy from you ,and then discard you. It’s because they are   highly  absorbed  in their own life of misery. They know deep down they are better than their current situation. The anger is a reflection of the weaknesses same weaknesses they see in those they use.

 I say:

 don’t hate these people.

Most toxic people have good hearts, and when in a good place (if ever) have a lot of love and time to give to others.

By all means walk away from them, let them push you away.

Yes, sometimes we have to be pushed.

falling-off-the-cliff

Sometimes, we have to put aside the good we can see in them, and realise that they can only help themselves.

I know all this because I have been toxic.

I’ve done all these things.

We can all be toxic.  Always take time to refocus and reflect.

All experiences can help build on your character and teach you important lessons about yourself.

We are all works in progress.

36186390-368-k525336

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

Athena

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.

Soaring,

tumbling

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.

Soul laced,

racy,

its breathless.

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.

procrastination halts.

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.

A belief!

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

uh oh

time to stop her before she’s crying over spilt milk

Betrayal   overheard by a righteous all seeing mole living in a borrowed hole.

 

Talking head challenged a stroke

*Things/thoughts society urge people not to talk about or write about*

If you believe everything you read then I should have gone into the media business.

 Meg!

 thanks for this.  Meg is highly artistic and creative lady who only sees a hint of her talents.

She is a friend and the reason I’m writing this post.

song inserted to listen/lyrics at end of post  (optional) – It all ties up at the end……

 

DISSIDENT DAISY THOUGHTS

How to know if you are not a weakling sap?

You do everything wrong.

starve yourself, stay in bed, pretend everything is okay, hoover crap up your nose, watch and wait for your grandma struggle with death for 3 days.

Forget about what makes you well and happy.

Fallout with everyone you would die for

Think you have ignored your daughter’s needs  and are dismal parent

then, still say

N0.

I’m sorting out my priorities.

H20 AND O2  🙂

moment by moment

I tumbled a fair way -off the waggon wheel.

This is not just about drugs – in fact, drugs are probably the only dysfunctional part of me that looks so horrific and doomed because it is so visceral.

People can’t see my other issues.

Okay, maybe a bit of weight loss- not so shocking that people turn around and gawp. I cover it up well.

I slipped off the waggon – mentally and physically many months before I decided to reach out for coke.

Point is, I did a three-week drug binge – hated every moment of it.

It took the announcement of my Gran being given the short straw of life to stop fucking about.

She may or may not be in heaven. I hope she is.

This may or may not be a piece of fiction.  I hope it is.

Research for my EMA?   ( one of my characters is addicted to drugs and is homeless)

well, he was when I last looked at the script back in November…..

I told the supplier not to supply me. He respectively hasn’t and I respectively haven’t had the desire to ask.

I  don’t like the way drugs or alcohol make me feel or act. I don’t like how denying myself food I like and love makes me feel.

I don’t like what the symptoms of my issues does to my personality, how I behave when caught up in it.

People slip everyday.

How many accident claim adverts have you seen lately?

Slip up, is what meant. 😉

Most people don’t talk about it.

What have I got to lose?

I have everything to gain.

My integrity.

War is peace

Truth is Freedom……….

Ignorance is strength ? 

ha! got you 

George Orwell is a pseudonym  😀 

My family…….

bloggers who know the real me – bloggers like Meg.

People in my real life may read this and go………………

I’m not telepathic and I never ever want to be.

I DON’T GIVE A FUCK, WHAT YOU THINK. EXCEPT TO THE ONES, I SPEAK TO BUT I ONLY SPEAK TO PEOPLE WHO GET ME.  ( maybe that would sound better in a ghetto lingo)

I’m on the mend. I still have issues – just cos I’m not hoovering shit up my nose doesn’t mean I’m  100% healed.

What about your business Daisy?

Business is growing.

How did you support your habit?

I rented out my body …

(FACT OR FICTION )

does it matter?

I have a personal account and a company business that is separate and I have another issue where what I would spend on food gives me overflow money to spend on prostitutes, porn, dunking doughnuts, Cider, cars, gambling, clothes, shoes,  drugs – illegal and legal self-medicating.

Yes, love a bit of Erotica   – Anais Nin 😉

 

The point is the waggon is not electric and it is in sight. I’m running alongside it.

What about your Master’s degree, Daisy?

Doing it. On track.  One more scipt to write and year one down.

I can tell you -100% truth that having mental health issues and reverting to my default coping mechanism has done NADA for my creativity.

Me being me and writing from my heart and keeping my head just about screwed on is why I have managed to come out of this with flowers blooming out my ass.

I digress.

Bit of a rant…

Thank you,

Meg

for the tag.

I TAG (optional)

BROOKE @ THE UTOPIA UNIVERSE

CHARLIE@ CHARLIE ZERO THE POET

I LOVE A CHALLENGE.

I LOVE MUSIC.

Combine the two together and I have put myself up for a HEALTHY CHALLENGE.

It’s going to be a busy couple of weeks sorting out the funeral with my Ma.

I need to help others to dig myself out of my own shit storm.

I’m committing myself to this challenge because I can.

A song I currently love is this

It gives me hope that the youth of today are thinking like this young lady.

Enjoy…..

 

[Verse 1]
My quiet observations on the bus city people lost trust
Maudley’s out patients are shouting with the pavements
They looking rough can’t get to grips so they end up looking worse than shit
Maybe if I can see who there talking too I might talk to them to so they can prove
The spirit never lies but before I get to try the clouds open up and let god cry
Why is this white lady nervous cause 3 black youths come on so she checking were her purse is
Make me feel nervous like they ain’t my country like they don’t really want me
But mummy always love me I never had a daddy it was me and my mummy
Mummy was my daddy I can either cry or see it as funny
How you can have a child and then just leave
Now I’m walking around with my heart on my sleeve cause I’m effected anytime anybody leave
You can see my scars and hear my silent screams
I been reading books to analyse my dreams and to me it seems
The only chance we get to make sense of it is when we put our heads down a little bit
That’s why I’m spitting it cause each one teach one and you can take it how you want don

[Hook]
Right now I got a lot of work to do
I gotta smooth out my edges
Eat more veges
Listen to my elders
Vibe with my peers
Confront my fears and
Finish this album
Right now I got a lot of work to do
I gotta represent the youth
Speak more truth
Eat more fruit
Get wise with my years
Confront my fears and
Finish this album

[Verse 2]
But it seems I get side tracked it’s like a mind trap I get a call real late bout were the foods at
Cause certain man a certain place got certain food to taste so my Nikes are laced
And I was never really one to stay awake through a working day for them little bit pay yo
This nine to five is just killing me slowly but quitting is for quitters so I wait until they fire me
But now no one will hire me cause I got more lies in my CV than a pro’s had STD’s
When will they see I was born to reign entrapment is my pain I need to feel alive again
I need a man that compliments my style overstand I’m this way until I die
Has ambitions of his own so ovastand i don’t wanna be alone I just need a little time in my zone
This one goes out to my shotters in the alleys were all brothers and sisters were all family
All my sisters trying to raise there babies all the youth man with court cases crazy
It’s like the smarter you are the bigger your worries stupid people are lucky trust me
This one goes out to my people with ambition I’m still learning I’m still trying but for now

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Honesty is courage and since I got the heart of a lion then there’s no sense in lying
I portray my life over violins no matter what it brings least I’m being real
When I look at my future I fear failure I fear the fact that you might not like me
I know I’m skilled but just maybe slightly what if my light don’t shine so brightly
I’m scared of that I’m telling you the truth I’m scared of that
What if the doctor said you couldn’t have children
What if the system they tried to topple what I’m billing better living for all my ghetto children
And I don’t mean were you live I mean your state of mind
Cause ghettos not just a place ghetto is a vibe
And I don’t need no boastie words or complicated flows
If I know what I gotta do then I flow
But sometimes I get tired sometimes I lose faith I guess that’s the reason that we got to church
Cause when you at the bottom of the barrel it hurts need something to believe in and God works You think spiritual is just hocus pocus what you really saying is you have not noticed
Inside us all is a silent protest you can acknowledge or ignore but me

SPEECH DEBELLE – FINISH THIS ALBUM

ANAIS NIN IMAGE CREDIT

Perspectives

If shades came in pigmented blues

Would the world recognize the significance of color as opposed to hues?

Would living in color stop it’s either this or that?

Would gray get a chance to convince us to investigate?

Would crashing into a slick  navy

crude and  lost at  sea,

Inspire old fashioned candy knots to carry us all back to safety?

If black wasn’t so noir

Would fashion dictate less to those in the savoire?

Would flags become less patronizing?

and white flags more entrancing >

A hue is a hue by its very name

A color can decide to change and play  – a child-free game.

Rich in reds and rich in Green

 Would we see who indeed profits from wealth – would we want to change this scene?

Would hearts come together under a purple strewn night? 

lovers take pleasure in dancing in the rain and seeing each other in a different light?

Emotional attachments are often aesthetically pleasing

only to the one who is eyeballing the muddied one’s  high pitched squealing.

Clarity of light sought in souls and not in places of a questionable heaven.

admirers eyes to skies

solid legs still rooted in the ground

unifying all genders of brethren.

How wealthy we are  to have  a landscape of color

Don’t ignore its beauty in the search for another.

 

 

jjj-2017

WORD PROMPT ‘BLUE’   HEAD OVER TO LINDA G HERE

 

 

A sweep of consciousness

Polish face lifts

immigrants on a striking shift.

Release the scent of the maximum sedative.

How many wrongs make a right in a world indulging in a  toupe wearing predictive.

In the slums – she bares her teeth.

rips at her tights.

Hoping to show she can cough up her own weight when she’s challenged to cognac fights.

Be funny! 

Be sunny!

Rhyme like a dimer who thinks life is one giant inflatable bunny.

Spring in her step – she waddles a concubine to the left.

Eating her mushy peas and the renmants of a palate once cleft.

oh, come all ye faithful – fish nets, voluminous hair.

All that makeup gunk and dressing attire scream out they live in a world in scenic bare.

Boxed tight in – creativity swivels to an allurer.

Betrayed by the one she led down consciousness  – hostile intruder.

Be funny!

Be sunny!

Genuine, inspirational, honesty appeals to an egotists intellect.

How much funk does one consume to come to believe in this deficit?

Character assassination -Emotions maul – pall bearers shuffle on knees.

a clear casket in mind – drunken on herbal skies, the night before the shaman declares he indeed sees.

Truffle this slice with something so nice.

Be happy!

Be funny!

49 kilograms of crystallized heart stacked with genetically modified, combed honey.

Pest in my side. No great thought- a merry flow tilts to contrive.

This is what you get when you reach out for a pair of ears to listen to what you wish others could see through your hide.

Make it a happy ending!

Tortured with teddy bears, candy floss not fit for human consumption

Connect the E numbers – ADHD charged disorderly suspected of the ability to function.

Write what you know.

Know what you write

For old times sake, can’t we just make up and redo introductions without resorting to repeats of historical dramas televised late in the night?

Spirited away from a despicable raven heart that galvanizes.

Bloody, pumped up

clogged up arteries.

Whimsical bird   – an indulgent Eliza

Do little.

Timing is everything, nothing, and something.

If she could just make a connection – could she expose the trilogy cycling stationary in the ring?

She gives a damn but it is probably not what you think she has planned.

Convolution confederate.

marvellous toast dictates who should ordain an anthem to strawberry jam.

Drummers in a sweat lodge – chanting druids beating on stones, let the sow lose her intelligent piece of three-year-old jambon ham.

She’s not a funny writer .

She writes what she wants to – it’s weird and it’s messed up but it is fucking fun.

Sanity is a line just beyond the blur – hasn’t it ever occurred to you she writes to live for her?