The dwellers above know my heart drops
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,
on the floor.
temporarily suspended to ….
….Some random felony.
It’s a knock to the hard knockers
Mind, Been through turmoils deeper than this
It’s not a train smash
Live to learn
Love to learn.
Take a slice of peachy humble pie!
stick a candle in it
back drafted thoughts stumble into a sequence of:
tomorrow before I decide today’s the day I roll with Beethoven’s dice
What it is.
I’m right down
I’m shook up.
Corker’s prematurely conceived Pops
floods in axis allies
upon hitting terra firma
extension 20% proof.
I see the scars
I see how it ticks .
Tor- rratic , compulsive
Catch a rave…..
….for the hell of it.
Wicked witch erupts into flames
a myriad of Infinitum
reborn into a state of foreign flags.
mind buggery neuroticism.
Miss fittings making no cents—
it’s just me.
…complaining in the currency of words
inhaling scents of the civilised
sparring near the poplar trees
premeditated notions about a break somewhere near the beats of Her Mississippi.
an ashen head
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 –
eases the thoughts
dulls the senses — makes me talk
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…
Memories of my Tatty Anna and people
I have their wisdom.
I get it.
This is why I’m here.
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
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
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
yesterdays lined, wrinkled quaker?
Got to get this out
No masterpiece, please
don’t be led into illusions of any reasonable doubt 🙂
Take it on the chin
Pink champagne and rolls Royces is a means to an end.
The BIG issue
comes and goes.
reveal I care deeply about
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 .
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.
(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.
hits the buttons
on the rewind
let Soul come into its own being.
I write ,
cos I …
coveting Self-harm projects Noire-Esque shadows toxic terrorists
A mate asked me how another mate of the bygone era
travelled with ghosts
Recounted what adds up to know
she didn’t reply to
Skype hook up, across the Pleiades sisters parade?
Never hide my dastardly foibles.
Ask a question-Won’t decorate words with foliage nor flowers unless appropriate dis
Beast attire is required.
The weed, contagious, wild,unstoppable , tangible mess
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
pass it to over to #Throwbackthursday
a torch onto
sowing grains from OPERATION DESERT STORM THUNDER
.. is how
spazzing to the next phase
*Struggling with writing so I just wrote anything. Life, oh oooooh life. Life.
Posted on 2018-01-12, in power poets, writing and tagged Emotions, In Yer Face poetry, MY WORLD, Overcoming Writers Block, stream of consciousness poetry, word play. Bookmark the permalink. 8 Comments.