mice s-c-c-c-atters

The  dwellers above   know my heart drops

my soul

slips

shatters

s-c-c-c-c-atters.

bloody, Man  on the dance floor

I’ll murder  a bass line, a beat — a melody

anything to revive  Spiritual harmony.

 

To remember  Life has the nectar to extract the sharp,

jutted pieces

Lies

on the floor.

temporarily suspended to ….

….Some random felony.

It’s  a knock to the hard knockers

Mind, Been through turmoils  deeper than this

And survived!

 

It’s not a train smash

Live to learn

 Love to learn.

 

Take a slice of peachy humble pie!

stick a candle in it

flame ignites

back drafted thoughts stumble  into a  sequence of:

tomorrow before  I decide today’s the day I roll with Beethoven’s  dice

Hindsight is…

What it is.

A vice.

Sappy Heart

I’m  right  down

I’m shook up.

 Corker’s  prematurely conceived Pops

floods in axis  allies

 snap

crackle

foams  memorising

postnatal

pregnancy

 bucks

fizz

flattened

upon  hitting terra firma

Context –

text –

ex..

tense

extension  20% proof.

I see the scars

I see how it ticks .

Tor- rratic , compulsive

ranting,

Catch a rave…..

 ….for the hell of it.

Wicked witch  erupts into  flames

a myriad of Infinitum

reborn into a state of   foreign flags.

Eternal

mind buggery neuroticism.

Miss fittings making no cents—

it’s just me.

…complaining in the currency of  words

sweetly

inhaling scents of the civilised

sparring  near the poplar trees

premeditated notions about a break somewhere near the beats of   Her Mississippi.

Floating

 Rubber tyre

frames

an ashen head

limp

Body

Dangling

Christ,  it’s only a baby!

Child, can it be worse?

Blue Mondays are not  my agenda

creditors stand back – I am but a single unit of rebellion defender.

random bollock -isms —utterances –

Hoo Ha!

 eases the thoughts

dulls the senses — makes  me talk

Talk.Talk.Talk.

blah blah

Bah!

goats cheese chops into

 a nightmare slice of Brie on the free.

 

Fright mares  trapped in  uni Korn  band of a dreamcatcher

Aw, Twinkle toes!

kitten crawling sideways…

….Funny mad-hatter.

Memories of my Tatty  Anna and people

not here.

 

I have their wisdom.

I get it.

This is  why I’m here.

Purpose.

 

to show my portal to failure often leads to serendipitous moments —  a hand of passion I encourage to caress.

Winning on the squint is relative to Iris’s pupils —

 cantering- against a backdrop of visual vacant

scents

Purrs

 Jolted.

My heart s-s-s-s-stutters —

 waves  of  blood crash  around  my private chambers

The same the place I learned  how to   save her

Self.

It’s mere words, a jumbo-hybridization of  Nonsense.

It’s just a mark on a piece of virtual paper  or ….

Is my soul marked

sincerely yours,

yesterdays lined, wrinkled quaker?

Who knows?

Got to get this out

No masterpiece, please

don’t be led into illusions of  any reasonable doubt 🙂

Shout

 Take it on the chin

Pink champagne and rolls Royces is a means to an  end.

The  BIG  issue

comes and goes.

 rants

reveal I care deeply about

many

 many

many

things

Bobby Dazzles them to

 a cluster hand adorned in bejewelled rings.

How  is that  over half the Tories are pro the death penalty?

what sick .. (look up to the sky, palms raised upwards)  made humans want to kill?

Then resurrect a self -portrait frowning

Poor wee   Frankenstein!

Heightened sense  this create-a   monstrosity

clearly feigned formal  introductions to the mode a La clandestine .

The overseer has a warped sense of humour

 

Warped sense of humour.

Warped sense of humour .

warped! warped!

 

Flappers ‘

Echoes

Pass down a  blue  gene predisposed to erupt into a   malevolent  radiation activist

digging  up a sizeable  tumour

a  ‘Mwah a ha ha inhales too much reverberation’  character

straight out of every epic  Brechtian.

 episodic

(pant) oh, mime!

Nothing will stop.

Nothing will stop.

Nothing will stop

silence my voice.

 

Tomorrow’s another day to appeal to a chapter inspired by

The equestrian deity

parle in grande Mal thumps.

Time unpauses

 hits the buttons

on the rewind

let Soul come into its own being.

 

I write ,

I write,

I speak

I speak.

I stutter.

Mutter

cos I …

…it

Matters

 

coveting Self-harm projects  Noire-Esque shadows   toxic  terrorists

Enter

via

 terminal stockholme

synchronising  me

within.

minutes

A mate asked me how another  mate of the bygone era

travelled with   ghosts

fluent in

A.sshole-ism.

 

W.ater

O.ver floweth

L.ives

Recounted  what adds up to know

ledge.  Intimate,

she didn’t reply to

Skype hook up, across the Pleiades sisters parade?

Too much

in

form

May Truth

Never hide my dastardly foibles.

 

Ask a question-Won’t  decorate words with   foliage nor flowers unless  appropriate  dis

cretian

Beast attire is required.

 The weed, contagious, wild,unstoppable  , tangible mess

horizontal on

an overdose of reality.

 

Infectious   swine influence-a -powers

Rangers in sight

Glocks are invincible  — frenemy of the night.

Sub motion orchestrates the design of my Scarlett duress.

Per chance, it’s lunar monthlies or….

the  blues mourning for a

haunting with  Madame  Tristesse

 

Relay!

pass it to over to  #Throwbackthursday

left

passes

 a torch onto

 a  Choker

sowing  grains from OPERATION  DESERT STORM THUNDER

This,I  confess…

.. is how

I

shuffle

one

foot

forward

en -route

a   walk

new,

spazzing  to the next  phase

 out

critiqued catalyst.

 

*Struggling with writing so I just wrote anything.  Life, oh oooooh life.  Life.

About Daisy Willows

'Words are my everything' - Jon Wayne . A writer of poetry, stories, stage scripts, fiction, border line poetry & freestyle works, Music reviews, Guest Features/interview & shout outs. She is also passionate about raising anti-stigma & awareness for Mental Health. A trained co-facilitator in Wellness Recovery Action plan by Mary Ellen Copeland Natasha goes by many moniker names-Daisy Willows, bahtuhkid, GOAT2Bdazee. She has had a colourful life. Travelled. Natasha co-owns a second-hand clothing & accessories business -La Bella Bijoux Ltd Natasha was born in South Africa & is a French national. She currently resides in the UK Natasha Bodley holds a postgraduate in the Humanities. A BA in Myth in the Greek and Roman worlds & Advanced creative writing. She also holds a Foundation degree in Acting performance. She is currently working on her first novel (semi-autobiographical creative non-fiction). She has published one short story on Amazon called 'Number one' Connect with Natasha Collaborate with Natasha & feel free to Communicate her too. Light, Peace & Love!

Posted on 2018-01-12, in Experimental Writing updates, power poets and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 8 Comments.

  1. damn. this is great

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Superb, my dear!

    Liked by 1 person

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