Category Archives: EXPERIMENTAL WRITING

The fable of Alison.

* A character who appeared in my head with a story to tell*

Paper, rock or scissors?

Choose one and you may win treasures.

Paper!

Congrats you have received a first year  wedding anniversary proposition .

I’m not even married – how is this a gift I can accept ever so gratefully, oh harry?

Will you marry me? I can make it true.

Alison threw a rock -aimed for the right side of Harries’ forehead- blood leaked out leaving his lips blue.

A twisty smile caught the ends of Alison’s mouth.

She needed a pair of scissors to cut out his heart.

Grim, I agree but her character is slightly Magee.

Squiggled by all the paper cut out men she’s collected over the years.

Paper mache collage project- in an attempt to fix her heart.

The glue worked better when she inhaled its fumes.

She would depersonalise from her very self and awake discombobulated- and rather confused.

This is the sad tale of how Alison decided she needed to repair her heart.

She flipped a coin that flipped her mind – all in one turnabout,

she came around -started singing the Hokie Cokie.

Her twisted jive improved when the moon drew in a little closer.

She could almost hear a beating heart – she put her hand to her chest and,

well, she fell apart.

Envious stares at Man Mickey Finn – his heartbeat loudly and glowered within.

He was her first.

The first attempt to re-enter the game of tick tockers.

Little did she know that this manic method would send her over to the bog marsh rockers.

Frozen on ice add a straw and a blueberry, she sipped her amorous bloody cocktail – Mary already had men gouging her blood every day.

Shaken not stirred.

Stern, she was shaking.

What did Mary’s conception have that made men fall head over heel and lap for her attention?

Frowned, knitted eyebrows – she added her rouge splash to the mix.

Men looked straight through her – perhaps she needed a bar of a Twix?

She had a cunning plan- not evolved or well thought out. She turned up her senses whenever men were about.

The throbbing, pulsating came not from the heart.

An alarming discovery – It came from below the waist.

Mary – scarlet virgin? miracle, my arse!.

Poor Alison only wanted to feel desired.

When she went for her next ingredient,

she baulked at its form and tried to appeal to its art.

Phallic and paternal it made her blush from the internal.

How would she get it to stay erect so she could snip it off when it was ready to launch and eject?

She tickled the floating accompanied planets and amusement came out in oohs and aahs.

Just a little longer, Alison thought blustered through scrunched up eyes.

 make sure you aim for the right glass and not the glass eye.

The navy would be proud of her solid sea legs.

She mixed this new concoction. so sure she was,

 she convinced me she was devout.

Up the straw, the gloopy mixture reached her swollen taste buds.

Horrified she spat it out – perhaps she needed to make it a little more tart.

She came across a nursing mother – whipped out her hunting tools.

Crying Babe clattered to the tarmac. Scattered Mother one breast left on the right side.

Shake it up and down the hatch. She waited for the rush of ardours to pour in.

Misery entered without a courteous knock. Sit down you gapless, toothy banshee of distrust.

Tears were rung around her neck -weighing in at a hefty sized albatross.

The grief of being ignored compelled her into complete disorder.

How could she end this frenzied quest without settling into a forlorn heap of a mess?

Then a thought rainbowed across her mind. It lifted the burdened clouds and she put her hand to mouth to suppress a giggle.

If no one would have her then she knew what was best.

Alison abandoned her empathy in the puddle of complicated attempts to gain acceptance.

She proudly took her first step into her role as the Queen of hearts.

If men wouldn’t love her, she would make sure they could love no other.

What a dreadful tale, is there are moral to end this fable – make it an epic!

Jesus wept!

I get bonus points if I end this and say she transformed – yes she did and serve this as a warning on how to never ignore the self- proclaimed piously.

My confessions of being a fraud

Icke Dreams

Generation of memes and meh.
No to negative – yes to positive,
change the bulbs and glow iridescently, no fear in being one light -solo- informative.
Skulking around caves in the fashion of  Scylla -drinking whirlwind pools of Charybdis
Not her usual Pret a porter a  la mode – turn away from the crowd guffawing Helter-skelter splitting glees.
Did she vote for  UN Born children?
What about those who are already suffering on this earth?
Religious fanatic family members – An atheist for president with a crab claw and a wry, outlook streaked with mirth.
Cut the cord from the past – hold it up -prop yourself up –
cheer yourself on – scream your message into a bottled glass.
Insist on declaring your right to say: I am not who you say.
List- notes, prompt references. You need not -unless these very people are the ones sending funds into your bank account, every payday.
Draw a line across the sand – Peripheral eye view – hawk soaring above a sand dune.
Marathon race – testing survival of the fittest – hottest month in the arid desert – sub-Saharan- month? not that of June.
Mighty ants group as a collective. Never for one moment allowing one obstacle to waiver them from their duty.
Poppies raining down – bloody thumb- well-read. Two-minute silence – she still texts -how dare you not honour the dead.  
Two minutes is not a political thread -laughing my ass off comments chav teeth, who forgot to take his healing muti and shine a light of intelligence into that skull in the head.
Vulnerable -always strong – try and break her down with sticks and stones – rain and the wind.
Horrific people – full of hatred and dark sunken, mercury-filled irises -enough to drive a sheep to self-flagellate and undo himself  – unpicking his very own skin.
Cry for our beloved world. Hear the chimes of a new era.
Revolt. We don’t need heads on a pike – listen to Icke and let’s do this in stages, don’t panic in terror and make another century filled with a book titled the great error.
Existence is futile if we don’t sing and make our voice heard.
Delicate and polite -always touches the heart of an old veteran hobbling in the dark.
Two minutes and then forgotten until another year reaches the pinnacle of its calendar date – aim that dart – hit the mark.
Remember 09/11
Years pass, yet terror still reigns.
Remember year  09/11
Nostradamus escaped on horseback – he never escaped his visions quick enough – did he reach the star north of Devon?
Unearthed relics of Bob Marley preserved in a jam made from  onions and clams.
Ethiopian coffee smells better when one has a fridge full of out of date, uneaten food – leave it for the dishevelled courtesan.
 Too small-minded, to make a leap of faith into the ocean.
Better to feel safe and stay in your  council estate fishbowl – causing waves of drunken commotion
Bid me this moment where I am tempted to salute the majority with a middle finger.
Childlike taunts – sit and swivel – yeah screw you dark Lord of ale so bitter.
This is exactly what the system wants. Nothing –  the same – no change –  it’s too tiring to find the TV remote.
Anarchist holds up two fingers in the name of peace -scowling -punk dragged on skid row.
 God save all Queens!
an attempted coup on her blood – don’t spew constricting germanic denunciations into one’s penetrable throat.
One must not gloat.
Yes to positive – Negative to know.
No, that’s not right we know negative should always be followed with a No.