For better or for worse

how to be a good wife. 😀 😉

Cause less sorrow.

Talk less tripe

Paper,

rock,

scissors, or masking tape

Talk less.

listen more

love free from doubt

talk .

Decline an upgrade of

 buying into a get one free argument.

Another year passed.

Still eyeballing  the ferocious stye of the hurricane.

 numerous days swept by

side by side

Together.

Manage to keep one another extremist  sane.

Paper kites or paper cuts?

Endure and expand on our own perceived ins and out.

A  test to keep harmony on a scale

Genetically modified pesticide free.

Take one for the team

Roll over Beethoven.

Parasite recoils – breathless corpse.

Rise  scientific soul mates

Abandon host in search of a live love that remains.

 Keep it organic

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

Picking out unsavoury nuts  in an odourless panic.

Allergic reaction

 pause on moments passed

lovers instinctive need to recreate

happiness .

Words

displaced.

misplaced.

replaced.

Recapture the beast of time.

never once dawdling – unaware of its power to desecrate.

memory injunction

turnabouts.

Maple honey  squeeze  leads to a scent of forget me nots

Souls connect – diffuse the trigger  wire in the brain.

racing  against accruing

increased deficits

from   the memory bank.

fall

to the knees,

begging,

 ‘please cease fire’

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 😀

Raise your words. Not your voice

Dedicated to the gangsters inksters of the writing world.

Lifetime member of sudden death writer collective.

Butter them up to increase traffic

 then render them defective.

Noble people not saying what they do. It’s a performance of sorts.

It screams out – this scene has been played out far too many times.

Fucking over a person should be seen in the outdated queue.

What people do to advance their station.

Dishonest injustice.

I hold a person to their words – hence this unforeseen faction.

Beware of compliments paid by rubber silicone lips.

Not everyone understands that stars like Mick jagger don’t screw over those just for kicks.

I’m out of your game.

I am sharper and know your words scream dissident whore.

Sell yourself out to whoever seems to make more of a racket.

What happened to good ole fashioned honesty?

You fit well into the conglomeration Trump bracket.

Direct devices – mouthpiece – save your screams for another.

Fraudsters and clear ass wipers.

Bleached out.

 your ink will never see the light of day. Offended is the weed who loathes the fickleness of the collective of neigh

Sayers

sleuth

Take your numbers and deduce the ifs and the buts,

when all will recognize your true form.

The traitors to writers –  don’t teach our youth this  malpractice – unethical abuse

Power does not come in numbers -it comes from your convictions.

Surround yourself with rats jumping ship as soon as a comet brightens  Haley’s rights.

I say raise your words. This is just what I have done.

I am not a springboard to increase you, smite tribe.

I leave you to  unravel  your cohorts when you have  exhausted their  ink and deemed them a humdrum

I am not yours to use.

*Dedicated to a bunch of Inkster’s. I hope you get what you deserve.

*Title credit to ‘the get down’ series.

 

Sadie

Swollen lips pricked

send a  trickle of blood sauntering down her pale leg

Treat her with fragility and she may open up to you -with vagile virility – trust in her own common sense.

Let her tease you into bed, out layered by peels of laughter.

you could find yourself lying up looking at her naked body, legs astride,   in your bed.

Don’t try to stop her from controlling the ride. When Sadies on top you best stay on her appealing side.

All reason shuts down – arousal highjacks all senses.

Amygdala orgasms – her hands guide you to let down all defenses.

Light strokes vary speed and pace. Controlled movements-surrender does he when he glimpses bits of skin seen through playful lace.

Cleansed and tainted all in one dance of sensual explosion.

Sweat, red cheeks,   clothes abandoned, sheets ruffled into a mood of confusion.

Discard thoughts of pain numbed by oxytocin released from incarceration.

Eye to eye contact -Sadie’s initial taunts inspire events such as this cheeky body adoration.

Whispered petit amours, hairs raised to embrace all sensation.

Blood whips into a frenzy – the body climaxes into a bewildered orgy of elation.

Beating hearts enthrall Sadie to linger. All mighty mother nature – gave us each blessed finger.

Sadie gives when she feels she can un-ribbon her mask of distrust.

Not many have broken her hymen soul – merging adoration and lust.

Needs fulfilled don’t ask her how it was. Look into her eyes, see her smile, her face will not betray her mind.

She doesn’t have to answer with praises of technique.

 Trust in yourself that Sadie has tasted the best delicacies she can find.

Tongue provokes once soft nipples – get it right and she will let you know if this entices her.

Spontaneous love.

All time suspended from her world,

you may lose yourself,

 entangled in limbs.

She doesn’t need your confession – though she smiles at the gesture.

She knows your lip service is filled with the original grace of binding hymns.

Sexual creatures come out of hiding when treated with respect.

Learn to appreciate art and learn to appreciate a woman.

Learn what is and isn’t a subject.

Study her and she will catch you out when you least suspect it.

She can conjure up a fine table in a laboratory with you as her primary object.

She was endowed with gifts of pleasure and seduction from her first breath.

That look, you wonder – what could she be thinking?

Maybe you unwrapping her with delight saved her from an eternity of slumber floating face down in a river of Styx death.

*Inspired by Gustav Klimt’s  ‘ The kiss’*

unlike a Patsy in the woods

Every door closes on him.

Preying on vulnerable open wounds -healing will never begin.

Investigate those eyes before committing to a reprise.

Listening to melodies – Sirens come with mixed genitalia -long hair is but one disguise.

take a ruler to the heart – measure the worth of sufferance again.

Sever the connection – scatter archaic ashes in rivers – imposing artificial zen.

Follow your path. Look at how far you have climbed.

Never forget the struggle of clinging onto that mountain – raging, over-imbibed.

How many tears must you swallow before realizing he only wants you to taste his edifice?

He will spin webs of verse -words veiled in lust just to share his murderous impotent vice.

Remember the reality – the aftershock of his insults.

Remember the silence- the disrespect – the calculated spasmodic my mind has no google map  whereabouts

This is a wake-up call – a reminder – It is not just you- he has chosen in an attempt to toast with a contrived roast.

He suffers from genuflecting self-esteem issues that cause the desertion of Hells own residential ghosts.

You and he are not alike.

You and he are not alike.

You and he are not alike.

You have a mind that looks for the good- seeks to find friendship without shame.

He has a mind that will convince you are ruined to think two genders can reasonably rhyme or mime  without the bane of another unfulfilled echo of  ‘I just came’

Take this negative,

filter out all color from this overspeeding thought.

Look at the skeletons – black and white – bones tell the history of those who he tried to thwart.

He’s alone for reasons he alone can only answer for.

Keep hold of your bright light for those who offer you a light when they sense a dull veil surround your core.

Gentle men and women don’t give ultimatums laced with sexual innuendos.

Sing this kumbaya to those ready for climatic conscription conditioning,

volumize the colony of desperados.

*dedicated to all the toxic pricks I’ve ever met. You taught me how to recognize your kind well.   Namaste*

 

Soul Selfie

Random thought on a Monday morning

I see a lot of articles about relationships and other people giving you tips/advice if you are dating the right person if that person loves you etc..

The last one I saw – not on here , I will mention.

18 signs you have a good man  and a keeper!

He-Love-Me-Daisy-2.jpg

A thought suddenly  occurred to me:

If I need to go through a checklist of 18 signs written by someone else that I am with the right man/partner, then I must be with the wrong man because I am already doubting I am with a good man.

I decided to trust my gut instinct and scroll past the article.

I already know the answer.

I have a good man. I don’t need another person to tell me 1/10/18 or even 100 reasons why I know I have a good man.

I get it that people do fall into bad relationships and sometimes don’t feel able to Trust their own mind.

I have learned to trust my instinct and go with it.

A true journey of self-growth has bloomed in the Willows.

How liberating.

” Trust in yourself- the first thought that seems right is usually the right one- don’t second guess your ability to know what and who is best for you” 

DAISY WILLOWS

Just a thought.

giphy-1

Back off to read Blogs.

Have a grand week and trust in yourself and your own decisions

 

 

 

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