Author Archives: Daisy Willows

My only foe woe

I

     have

taken
       a
few              tablets.

Prescribed; but more than  I usually allow myself.

I’ve been d
r          ink.
          ing .
I’m     

        furious at school.

Sent them a message .

I don’t want to interact.

I know I will have to be momentarily just dandy, for my bee when she gets home, however I may retreat
I don’t want to interact. I want to be alone .
I Hope to have a shower soon, sleep or be a perfect mom,  person .

A place – people feel secure , free , loved – not merely an abode.

My body has grown;my head – I want to disown.

I have no place to go
I can                   run away
Again

Without my own
Usual gumption.

Dis  
app     
        ear

from the lengths of life’s demands – another 25 metres * here I bloody go!*

Ad infinitum

There is no
Amen.
No peace
Nothing to burn.

My bras

need replacing- precious support to keep my dignity inert or is it alert?
We live in a millennial world.

I want to be .
I want to be not.
La vie en Rose
Simply….

All the regrets , the mistakes , the people I’ve lost.
I want to leave – die

Before you or my husband , mom and leave

                     Me.

         Alone .

As I am now.
It’s easier knowing you are still breathing

With an upside down frown. Said the cliché crow

I’ll engulf my darkness
With eyes closed, a mind blotted with discombulatory thoughts

aboundlessy

Thank you .

Xxxx

The crown of the Willows irrepressible woes

A moment – a weed – a daisy in need –
Is the last sentence a creed?

Who will ever know?

Except the one I title as this: my only foe.

Heads up

A coin has two sides.
Heads or Tails – it’s crazy how we let fate decide how our life will transpire.
Fate. Mate. It’s all overrated – celebrity ,drug addicted ,dead skateboarder – cremated ashes arise from the livings tears-earths most selfish empire.
Hawks’ is a brand name. I find his business methods something left to be desired.
Underhanded- an opportunist.
Monotone.
All alone.
It doesn’t have to be that way.
If we don’t speak we will never have our say.
Seems obvious right? Don’t hold it all inside – don’t delay – make a good go at it and relay.

Play the violin, a piano. Instrumental sounds.
Rap beats- car sounds reverberating – runners paving the tarmac with their well-trained feet.
Musical – emotional .
I ‘m touched by what I hear.
It moves my soul quicker than all the gold or silver in the world.
My words serve to validate all that I seek when I am feeling somewhat unworthy.

Why do we undervalue ourselves ?

The ones who should sign a cheque to get a re-evaluation – go up in our own self-estimation.
Destination.

Uncurl your fingers – point in whatever direction the wind blows, just walk wherever your finger lands, you can always change your mind if you hear the squawking of black crows.

It’s all there – in
Our head.
Our heart.
We are a work of seraphic art.

Goals achieved ?Celebrate them. Flaunt them -don’t sit there with your head in your hands full- tearfully grieving. You must not be deceived.
Keeper.
Sweeper.
Chimney poison ivy creeper.

Santa has decided to go for the crimson look for yet another year – What a heathen!
Life is a miracle . Look at your child – turning five , thirteen ,sixteen , eighteen.

I don’t care if she decides to run with the LGBT team or swap cuticle tips with the latest Hollywood cream queen..

Happiness.
Her individuality. Her style.
Her choice.
Role model.
Demonstrate.
Affection.
Reciprocate.

Infectious Laughter
Stars above – sit, wide-mouthed, in awe . Blessed to have sight.
I’m not Stevie wonder.
True, some say he was talented but he was not me.

I too am Original .
I too am visional.

Create.
Debate.

Open your mind to the possibility that money is nothing but worthless of your valuable time, scavenging around under the bed mattress, in hope of clocking an epic find.

It’s all relative.
That’s what the judge said.
In proportion to Age.

The solicitor offended his honour in his own chambers, pulling the ageist card to a venerable man .

His honourable threatened the organisation to pay out – headless chickens running around, not enough eggs or battery farms.

Overfed already underfunded.
Hegemony -sums in deficit- terminally defunct.

send them back to the Flinstones era .
Exile – a yabba dabba doo ban.
Regret nothing.

Embrace every compliment, every kindness , every soft touch.
For you don’t have a clue just how much you have to offer,
just how much you give to so and so and such and such.

Disorganise?
Reorganise .
Make a treasure map – Find a weather app.
What do you value? Does it make you happy?

Elevator music- always smells of corporate candy -a chihuahua at your ankles, constantly snapping.
Don’t blend in. Stand out. Be fierce, Be proud. You’ve come far.
The underdog title has got a new replacement.

Now don’t hesitate.
Now don’t fear.
Take that hair-raising step . Success is attracted to you like static – you don’t need a lint roller to wipe away all of you. You’ve worked – you have put in the time.
Look at your face!
Amazed
I know we all battle
Not every day is full of sunshine.

Colours change.
People fade.
Some stay the same.
You are here to honour your rightful place next to your fellow man , women – indeed even that sodding goblin.
Two sides of the coin
. No, you don’t have to flip it like a burger. You have a choice. You always have a choice.
To give power – to give your free will away to chance – heads or tails .
It’s unbalanced , unnatural . Shed away the archaic scales.
You are in control even when you are on automatic.
let’s wrap this soCs up and affirm how hard you’ve worked -you have every right to celebrate your achievements. Stare people in the eyes – make sure that they are on your level.
Tell them -Let them all know.
Yes. I am.
Yes. I did.
Yes. I will.
When you do decide where it is that you are headed for next on the chessboard . Sing, dance ,shout -do a jig – do it your way.
Make sure you are emphatic, Charlie Chaplin style or simply be over dramatic.

it’s a funny life, innit?

I’m trying to do anything to keep my mind from falling apart,so I wrote this.
( I wrote this monologue  to try to help  me deal with today&  something * crazy* that happened a couple of years ago).

If anyone reads it , thanks .
If not – a problem or a few words shared – is a problem halved..

CAST
MO – Maya’s husband and daughter to MIA

MAYA – mid 30/40’s mother and wife to Mo

MIA -young child-daughter

SETTING

(MO lying on what could be a sunbed /hospital bed. Spotlight -Bright lights -glaring down on her. Darkness all around her)

MO: There’re so many ways I could start what happened that day, so many ways… Sometimes, I think the best way to start is at the end -the tubes down my throat, the experiments, the torture (beat) or at the middle: “You’re mad in the head, you are. Summit wrong with  ya. We filmed it. Caught ya red-handed, silly bint”.

(beat)

VOICES: What happened? She didn’t! I’m calling the cops.

MO:Then I think to start at the beginning but my mind -it struggles- it’s addled -it struggles to find an entry point that can start linearly if ya know what I mean. …
A beginning that will justify, lend a decorum of erm.. credibility for all those who were involved in a moment that changed Mo and Mia’s lives for… at least a few weeks.

I’ve never claimed I was perfect.. or do I wanna be. Always say..Well- not always, summit * I* say.It’s a motto -like something I’ve adopted as my own. Who doesn’t know the lyrics to Bob Marley’s Tune? (sings) I shot the sheriff but I didn’t shoot any deputy -ooooh ooooh ooooh. To get back to what I was on about. I’m not perfect, yeah. No mask ever is. I stick my hand up whenever I’ve gone wrong in my life. And I sure as hell will say when I’m not.

Them lot. *Them* next door. Neighbours supposed to be friendly like – not mine. They refused to take responsibility for the barrage of abuse on their part. Harassing me like I was the only one on the estate doing cuckoo shit, man.

They didn’t see me get abducted by them aliens -Truth: Illegal aliens.
They weren’t imprisoned by our laws. They didn’t want me to come to this world even when I begged them. Well, I could only blink. *They *could hear my thoughts. They knew I had been tossing a coin over the worth of my own life for many a year. The day it all kicked off, I was trying to be on my best behaviour- not screw things up like I usually do. It was a proper sunny day, I had my bikini on,  Mo blew up the pool. ( laughs) it was a plastic one – it needed air. We sat in the garden. I had a few drinks and summit snapped in my head. I thought , ‘right I’m gonna get on the phone to my regular geezer and score me a hit’.
Mo comes into the kitchen knowing full well summin was up, so I just said my usual spiel and before he could answer, I flew out the door, and  I ran over to *his* car. I turned around to go back to my house and there she was.

Number 1 -Miss neighbourhood watch or should I say Ms curtain twitcher filming me. Things had been building up in my head for a while, the pressure, my mind felt full of cotton wool most days.

I wasn’t happy. I didn’t think about it and before I knew it: Boom, the glass window -her glass window shattered and…I was holding this great big hunk of Yorkshire stone in my hand. It took both hands to hold it.

Shit hit the fan.Police sirens were whirring, Mo,” I’m gonna get  Mia up to my your mams house”. They arrest me in front of her. She was crying. I was begging them to give Mo a chance to take her around the corner. Cos of Corona -like ,we had to wait for 5 hours to get me booked in.
My brain snapped in that cell. The police thought I had ADHD. I screamed for 4 hours. I was restrained by 5 police officers. I screamed until blood was coming out of my mouth.

The Crisis team was called and they said it wasn’t there ‘problem’. I’m well known to them -my social worker said- Well, I can’t remember.But everyone was passing the buck from one Flippin pole to the next. I got cautioned and was told by the copper to come back in a week. Next day-  Mo went to work on the day shift; Mia well.. she was staying with my mom. And I knew I had enough to do it. Do it properly. I had read the manual, it might as well have been titled ‘How to escape Planet Earth’. It was informative. I bought it online.

I bought myself a one-way ticket to another realm. That was it for me. I followed every step of the manual and then I blacked. Found myself strapped to a bed with aliens looking down on me wearing spacesuits. It didn’t stop. The torture didn’t stop. I even started to pray to a God I don’t even believe in. It was hell.

I thought to myself. This is it. I screwed up again. Its never going to end. The strangest thing was I kept on seeing this image of my mom. I tried hard to keep the image of Mia and Mo in view but it was my Mom’s face that I could focus on.

One minute I was trapped in this spaceship and the next I opened my eyes and I saw all white, even the people and no they weren’t aliens with big eyes and scary faces, they were smiling and perfectly human just like you and me. I tried to move my head to the left and there on a table, I saw a picture of Mo, Mia and.. my mom. 11 days later Mo was allowed to check me back into a familiar place: Earth.

He was mad at me for disappearing like I did but soon after he hugged me and we had a right giggle about me trying to convince him I’d been abducted by Aliens. Cos of Corona it turns out that the aliens with their headgear and silver suits on were people. They weren’t aliens, I mean they were strangers to me but… they weren’t trying to suck out my brain: my thoughts, my feelings, you know? They weren’t trying to take my life

They were trying to save me.

It’s a funny life, innit?

Character & mortality

Fear not to expose your vulnerabilities,
For those you seek to exploit know not
of your strengths
All are remarkable traits of your
personality.
Your mark on life
Your history
Most of all your strength of character
in your times played out in mortality.

Infidelity

If you took away  my infidelity
Would you let me have my way?

If these words were flesh
Would you  bury my  bones
Dig up the grains  of sand
Left
Over
Blow my spirit so the the people who could never  say
The bones could never declare
I existed
For a day
A season
Unless  you said I  was fair.

For  a moment
An hour longer than you dared to muster
To declare I’m  the loyal mare
I dare you to share
Laisse faire
For another day might tame
The girl who cared.
Or are afraid to .. …

Words are.

Words are an unconscious
token
To the art of life.

Saints need sinners

Everyone can feel like a
Nobody.

All it takes is a
Dose of creationist bacteria inciting
Ovulation;
on grounds countering humanity.


Freedom shatters pedalling gamblers.
Cards spiral up.
Hands
free
Offers new found grip on this moment.


Cha cha amorous
Latin her body speaks.


Acquaint within ear shot of an organic pulse
Inertia rests in patchouli scented tomstones.


Nobody sheds dull
the skin held in chains invisible.
Everybody still ignorant to the body disappearing into Huxtable’s fable.


Iris shows off her pupils under natural sun light.
Rainbow replenishes chakras.


True beauty
Illustrated by the refusal to keep a voice hidden


Saints need sinners. New mantra forwards a thinker.
Embrace beats without hesitation.
Life moves along with or without your participation

Line of Deliverance

In the shadowed shades of my blues.

I tenderly look for another who I can summon as one who lives life in honour,

Of all that is true.

Those who speak the spoken word in all its iridescent hues.

Colours drape my inner wardrobe.

Yet, I clamber for my grey, nuances of noir.

Catastrophizing all the whites for showing up my yellow gnashers.

Against a blustery pale backdrop of mountains blanketed by capped ice.

Brazen, I stand on the highest peak.

Cheeks misted by tears.

Contemplative in being joyful for the moments of inner peace.

Cast out this unwanted wardrobe.

No more colours in clandestine!

The drab shabby (not so chic) curtains concealing my true identity.

My makeup is not for every entity.

I’m asked to write the truest sentence I know.

Hemingway knew a way to interweave words worth more than bread made from the finest patisserie dough.

Scraping pennies to get by the hard knocks.

We do what we gotta do to get by.

Poverty causes ‘bros before hoes’ and ‘chicks before pricks’.

Keeping my pins steady as balls curve to nebulant sides — it incites fear into my inner stream of consciousness, dialogue conflicts –

Savaged by doubt and insecurity.

I’m on a trip with a Make believe demeanour.

One to conjure up more stamina and longevity-

To warn my inner Hecate to hesitate before she dare pro-curate.

Write to recover through seeping, bandaged wounds.

Riddling the mind with infectious curiosity,

To want knowledge is the power I crave.

It’s my security.

Droplets of lonely anguish torment my darkest spell.

I am the white temptress tempted to awaken the beast inside.

Though, I know it will be the catalyst to an eternity of mocking turmoil.

My final destination is not the country I occupy.

I’m an immigrant

I’m a traitor.

Colonised and imprisoned by outdated Imperialists.

The world is full of egotistical folk in full throws of the delirium tremens.

Murmurs of fragile Life keep me close to the fire.

It scintillates what I know is inside — lying dormant.

Ready to drive out the cancers multiplying with faces frozen,

In that blissful look of the ignorant .

I raise my sword.

It bleeds ink.

It is my heart : my deliverance.

I can’t fathom another way to jolt my instincts to kick out, and rise to take another breath.

I’m the one who needs these murky waters to survive . Forget I too need oxygen and gills to stabilise my Eco system.

If my world was captured by a drone;

I would want it to show me evolved into a hybridised pro-humanity amphibian.

Swimming side by side

dolphins & whales ad infinitum.



Life Dash

Our life is  entirely summarised  by  a dash.
Wtf?
It’s obvious..
1981- insert date of death.

Everything that we do within those dates define what we accomplish  and who we become or don’t.
One small dash.
two dates
Engraved on our tombstone is what makes our life signicant in this life to others…

That dash between the years is what we did or didn’t get to do with our life.

Or maybe I’m talking  crap…..

Probably the latter ..

Sincerly ,
Daisy

Pink Shaggy

*( inspired by my garden& watching my washing dry. I tried. Ha ha!)

Pink shaggy rug

  freshly spun 

New man with a Brazilian just looking for fun.

A hanging basket.

 No drills to screw it into the place 

Hitting  my alphabetical lah lah

Sublime.

Momentarily  on a bent knee phallically,  potted plant lowers its fees. 

The law of gravity serves the man

 The feminists of this generation … 

Look within

Some bushes thrive on moisture..

 Those lil weeds grow faster than  mother’s ducklings -highly strung.

A bush with no name but heavily influenced  by the 70s – missed the bell bottom end of Fearne cotton’s 

runny tum 

A gnome is a gnome by any other name 

unless you call it a gargoyle then you’ve followed the rules and found yourself an OG 

Spot 

under the bridge – you defecate   graffiti will pay for shelter:

A fedora hat,purple blush hearts,a stiletto , glitter ,fire 

Even for your sin.

Looking into the eyes of a monster BIG mama bush -I daren’t trim her  

fear she will suck me right in her tush.

A relic of tears

 A blaze  my malbora stallion.

Clearly I’m flaying

Sincerely,

The Ending.