Shrouded Sun Screen
*photo credit Francesca Woodman, Space2, Providence, Rhode Island, 1977, © George and Betty Woodman*
‘Always wear sunscreen’ – comes from a song.
Wisest life advice I’ve ever heard?
‘Don’t read beauty magazines they will only make you feel ugly. ‘
Quoting like I’m toting.
Screens -Scenes. Teams. Streams.
Rhyme it out until I get an inspiration to scream.
I Love screens. What to watch?
I never wore sunscreen.
I went under the artificial tan beams when I hit the isle of Blighty.
Cancer, I probably have.
The world is full of it. Boasting in its insidious arrogant fashion.
We can’t slip away from this malady.
Life is a parody.
Stage screens. Projections. People hustling and bustling about in the form of shadows.
Cue: Audio – people chattering, laughing, Christmas jingles pop out like a pack of Pringles.
‘Once you pop you can’t stop’
Stream of consciousness interrupted by my very own human Bee.
How you doing ? – A total Joey from the series ‘friends’.
Beware of enemies posing as your bros and sisters. Cut out cardboard fake, one-dimensional pranksters
Politics have got me in the corner of a boxing ring, cutting teeth on my mouthguard.
Betray my thoughts and beliefs when I mention the pantomime that is crawling underneath the flesh of America’s skin.
I don’t want to share any posts on this farce. Spread more hate and give more time to something that makes me want to spew my guts out.
Angry on behalf of all that is left of humanity.
The stupidity line is growing longer than the start of the poverty sign.
One screen dividing the people and oh wait they are all in the same queue.
Branded – I can’t stand it.
Fuck Kim K and K west and all the KKK’s and the rest of the Hollywood bandit Muppet crew in folly land with extra zest.
All lives matter. Seriously?
I’m about ready to pack my bag with the bare necessities. Head out to the jungle and live life with my true fellow earthlings.
If I could grow fur, I wouldn’t need sunscreen.
What the hell are we humans even doing here when we can’t even adapt or evolve in our natural surroundings?
Destroy, conquer, divide- it’s a woeful stuttering thought.
Soon we will be paying for the air we breathe.
“Water is not a basic human right” Just a thought from Nestle.
Stop polluting what was given to us.
Stop changing the screen to the scenery you want the commoners to see.
We are dying.
Hairdresser fed up of listening to other people moan. She applies for a job to treat people in a morgue.
Now you listen to me!
We all need to talk even if it is behind a screen – a mask.
I’d rather bleed from my eyes than cover my true feelings, opinions, and thoughts.
People can laugh. I don’t care.
Scan my soul and I will pass every scripture criteria to go to anyone of your chosen heavens.
I reflect what I see in others. We are but mirrors of another.
Despise me? Something inside me resonates with you. What are you hiding?
Drawn to me? remove the smokescreen – brave soldier-admits and refuses to deny that we all share common dreams,
feel similar emotions.
Have days when it’s all commotion after commotion.
I scream – a throwback to the bairn I never intended to wean.
Heartless – that would mean I am aimless.
I’ve had my eye on a spot. That takes more heart and commitment than spouting out hateful, denounced rhetoric.
Grief- ridden, sick chick.
She should have grabbed the knife.
She should have locked the door.
She should have put more clothes on.
She should have done the cha- cha- cha.
Would it have saved her?
Polo – life mint- raspy breath in need of sprightly death.
It’s fun to dream. It’s even better to live it.
Protection – duty to our children- the ones who love us.
I say be reckless -not with others hearts- but be a part of the movement to dine with the Ming dynasty, hovering somewhere above, a local art museum, in some loco town down in Acapulco.
The song I was on about when my thoughts were rambling.
Posted on Dec 12, 2019, in power poets and tagged Culture & identity, Emotions, humanity, In Yer Face poetry, MY WORLD, Nature, rants, Reflection, WRITING. Bookmark the permalink. 31 Comments.