Something about mortality

I may be known as an entity

Fear not for your soul – though you may be left with a serious case of dysentry.

It’s hard to tell if truth is what people want.

Franchement, I think it’s a habit conditioned by the school of the hard knock.

Supposed to mellow with age

wildness happy to forage

My abode is where it chooses to graze.

I’m not a sheep

Nor a bear

I’m a goat.

my thumbs oppose falling into line with most folk.

My every day hustling makes me wonder

if Beetlejuice would called his aside ‘everyday scuttling’..

That’s just some thought exhaled from an after toke

Time to get Kaned with Sarah

blasted

cleansed

psychosis

I’m craving for a skin

to inhabit.

Youth taught my body lusts after your version of sin.

It Could be a human or another entity

from within.

Perhaps the rambling has walked me in into

a Constable painting

Dear lord – nature is so fascinating.

Take me somewhere closer to my element

prefer to bathe in baskets of oceans.

I startle my self with the ability to form words

Genius ?

Nah – Apple found Eve – awoke her next of kin.

Mothers living with C.O.P.D.

need to breathe -allow the light to stay a little bit dim.

Not a metaphor for simple minded grey matter

Genuine love for those I lose to mortality .

Life is closer to Death than a rattle

snowed under morphine

garbling spit.

Is it painful to choke on your own saliva?

I admit it looks grim.

Pallid

cold

I’m not a fan of a cadaver.

I’ve applied make up to my dead grandmother

wondered if she was ever alive or if I made her up

Parchments of a book – I supposedly read.

The get-down

is hopeful

The break down is hurtful.

Hold my tongue

the insults pierce my heart

Trample it for being a erratic , thick skinned heretic.

Words fail me – I drift from the moment.

I pray to a god I don’t believe in.

I chant Allah’s name if it heals my mother from Death’s protege reaper.

Naive – I pray for the book thief to recount what it feels like to take a soul from this world.

Life is never easy

Oddly I thrive from suffering.

Maybe not all of us are meant to couple up

Some of us are here to show how to strive as one,

give hope to those who think a partner will make life easier to swallow.

I prefer to spit – mind my manners

Words are my only defense mechanism.

Call me a dreamer

but make sure you top up my grave with grains of she knew about reality .

Authentic chants – rise

Her passion stirred

shreaked from her initial gestation.I have a heart imprinted with carbon loaded memories

I don’t answer to the various names about my failures.

I’m the fallible one – who let a doctor murder my 5 month old son;

Then gave life to a child

She reminds me to breath again

How to end and begin?

Take it from me not all females can multitask.

Bob Marley had the wailers

Me

I have my thoughts , emotions and chaos.

Everyday

I move

I get through –

somehow.

close my eyes

wake up to a

another day –

face to face with my never ending pile of litter to get done.

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 2018-06-05, in EXPERIMENTAL WRITING and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

Feel free to connect or add your words & thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: