Category Archives: STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS COLLECTION
true love insatiety.
Two lovers with no fixed abode.
Pariahs to a culture in the quest for a monetary load.
Shelter over head versus security locked on the inside.
Freedom in exploring lovers to expel,
outcasts have rights to claim base to a premise.
Allow Emotion necessary feeds.
Inconceivable,two teens choose homelessness!
Increasing sorrow into the hearts of a young generations bliss?
The fault is not with those who choose companionship.
The system fails us all.
Digits in Information Data protected code.
Silicon domain ship drives the latex whip.
Norms of society don’t make for a decent person.
Laws in place to follow obediently -can’t find a pulse – humanity is cursing.
No religious books needed to teach us how to know right from wrong.
Morals are instinctive-passed down a DNA cell telethon.
Spirituality and science
is empathy responding in defiance.
Scrutinise the tramps
for he who makes not a wage sufficient to put in our governments’ banks.
Gleam citizens of society!
Feed your families by working for a legal, unethical corporation.
Where will you take your possessions when nature sheds a hernia?
Blood bank Sponsorship in need of a different type of currency.
we have lost.
Not long until we see all genders in mass hysterization.
Followers, likes, tags, social status
War on the photoshop Generation
insert a sultry slavering pavlova condition.
wear the no makeup look – wear less makeup.
no need for a two-hour trial and a tutorial book.
A means to an end.
Look at how we teach our children to defend
for one day we must die.
How can we continue to justify how we live life?
living in hope of being upgraded by united airlines,
feet up in the sky
‘on the high’.
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.
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.
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
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.
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..
Her individuality. Her style.
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.
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.
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.
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!
I know we all battle
Not every day is full of sunshine.
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.
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..
MO – Maya’s husband and daughter to MIA
MAYA – mid 30/40’s mother and wife to Mo
MIA -young child-daughter
(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”.
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?
Is it me?
Or is it you?
For the years we scarpered away like dissident spew.
Acceptance should come from our real 3-D form.
I find it in the eye of the cyber- sphere storm.
Thunder used to scare me
Evidence was heard with me on skid row.
Now, I love a good drummer, to play my heart,
so you too have to face it and know.
Who are my friends among so many foes?
You may know my name.
You may have heard of my doings.
Gossip is for the feeble minded –
Yes, but all it does is reduce you to what I call are my fewings.
Lacking in truth and compassion.
In denial of your own feuds.
It’s a shame you, fewings, have to shine a light on my silky nudes.
Paint a picture – tell it.
Make it your own.
When you get closer to the next ear,
make sure you credit yourself with what you have weaved into that picture and sewn.
I may be mad and success is giving me an incredible hand.
We all have to play.
don’t go eyeing up all the spades.
End up back to level one and start off as a one-man marching band.
Look into my eyes.
Don’t like what you see?
Well, my dear .. what is that makes you want to get the hell up and do the blitz and flee?
see your own self?
Feed your ego with ya very own distiller killer.
Rattle my bones.
I am transparent.
I know your secrets.
They are not mine to go and unleash like they are a target for a spent errant.
Ignore me if you must,
but then don’t go using my name in a scattered attempt to unearth some dust.
If you want it.
You have your own soot.
Talk about that.
At least you are sure to have more than half the goddamn loot.
Opinion is not the truth,
but suffer fools gladly,
if it gets you to feel like some kind of Mickey mouse sleuth
To be or not to be.
I could have stopped right there
Today I choose to be.
This family in all fairness will grow and grow.
Feeling like I do
Score as many times as you like.
Suffer we must
those who refuse to eat and instead are force-fed chickens on a battery farm.
Cow or Bull?
Why do men get to enter and exit when they want?
Why do women only have the key to the chamber with the will to want to open or not…
Which is better?
I suppose both is just as fair.
‘Blue balls isn’t a medical condition
Alas, if one must act this way,
A medical solution,
Used since the most ancient times.
an Antarctican blast of water
Ask any lunatic worth his marbles.
That one rolled right under the door.
Enough space for it to peek.
Not so fair when we cheat.
How to end with a two-letter word?
Shall I be a rebel and give not one but two fingers up to the rules?
a wooden leg tries to stick his in one hand.
Running away – I don’t want to see red.
rather break open the heavens
reveal yellow yolk hues
Crimson Fans snort in disgust
If I must
put a rose on the end and forevermore you will have my friendship,
on every level of schools, we enter.
enter in to.
My mind has been focused on simple acts.
I got lost in the tiniest of fish bowls,
now I have got what I want, my mind is on detonate mode.
123 – it feels like I’ve sold almost all of my souls.
Bolivian marching powder?
No, not that kind of blow
I need a fix to settle these nerves.I have to take it and there are no more chances to ignore.
My very core.
Paddling with or without an oar.
What do I know about writing?
I signed up for this,now it feels like I have sucked myself into my own suicide pact, by leaking out the gas-
Riding on a high:I think I can fly.
I hit the floor -head first.
Brain cells die.
The illusion is no more.
Fish have evolved and learned to grow wings!
I’m a fallen angel, feathers already in place.
I shouldn’t have a problem claiming my precious, idolised rings.
It ain’t hard to fill out my own sin award credit tax.
Therefore, I are pilgrim -like innit mega -sir!
fetch me my gown.
My mind is running on crazy adrenaline,
panic sets in and I am fucked if I can remember whose bed I am meant to be in.
Perspective just got that bit closer
It punched me in the face-
Invisible fists just came at me like a ghost –
Can I do this?
I seem to always get what I want.
Except with emotional IQ situations – I kind of let that one slip into the abyss.
So, I continue to create my own destiny…
Fate is for people living in a book of dizzy ,fairy tale necessity.
I feel the fear.
I’m not gonna lie.
All this sudden knowledge makes me want jump ship and say,
‘fuck! Au revoir, matie. Here, you have a go and steer.’
Fear is good.
It means I care.
Passion is good
It means I will probably fare.
So cool how I fooled my way into school.
This shit could still just backfire- now who’s the cool fool?
Past is a bit tense.
Future has been signed by my consent.
Got to the end – we all want a happy ending.
I made this shit up.
Ghosts floating through the mansion of my mind. It may sound like a great thing to own a mansion as a mind.
I can tell you. It is a place that never sees sunshine, there is dust everywhere, the piano remains out of tune. Every room has something magnificent to find
Dresses in one, jewels in the other, mothers little helpers, pills scattered everywhere.
There is always a ghost on standby ready to haunt me.. It’s like an old familiar melody.
I find no pleasure in any of these rooms. There are too many rooms, not enough signs and I am always losing myself in it.
Instead of running from my mind. I sit in the creaking rocking chair. Legs splayed,opening myself up to become possessed by anything .
They sit down on my favourite grey chaise longue and puff cigars that smell of lavender and twirl full bodied wine glasses filled with a deep maroon Beaujolais or à châteauneuf de pap.
I seem unable to move. I can’t move. If I could just ask them to leave .
One places a daisy chain on my head and tops up my glass of southern comfort. I’m sure I have stopped drinking. They know this as well as I do.
The irony is they are trying to make me live again. Drink if you must- anything to live, they urge….
This is their home. How can I cast them out?
They drain me, yes it is true, but they have been a part of my life, guarding me when I was still growing in my mothers womb.
I let them stay,
“SIT DOWN”., I say
Foreplay remnants stain the sheets on the various four poster beds. There is a new guy in town.
Has a bit of an opium habit. He hides away from everyone ,including me.
I have become desperate in my misery,
I seek him out .He won’t show himself.
I beg him to show me how. He can write the directions on a paper……
I think he cares. He doesn’t want me to go that far down.
I think if I am so far down the dragon’s pit;chasing ,what is a few more inches to the bottom?
Isn’t the bottom or top better than half way neither up or down?
I think he hid the ouija board too. He doesn’t want to be summoned because my will will break his……
In all honesty I think they all want the best for me. Oh of course they have their own agenda’s too.
They know how down I am but they need to go on outings too. They get bored so I get to be their cruise liner- my eyes are their oval windows ,to peer out of, their mode of transport, that shows them life still carries on even if they can’t be an active part of it.. ..
They called me a party pooper today. Sounds a bit lame.
They held a special party for me.
My least favourite party of all times- they all congregated in my drawing room whistling and pulling crackers and the incessant chatter nearly drove me out of the house.
Usually, the louder they are the quicker I try to escape – This time they lucked out. They will not help me find Opium boy.
I only want to escape with him.
I will continue to follow his musky scent until another scent sends my pulse quickening.
Another ghost starts to ask:
“Why do you want to be dead when your heart still beats?”
“Oh fuck off and cross over – you can live in my mansion of a mind but I will not be questioned – my mind my rules.” I reply
If I had gone would I have lost the scent of Opium boy?
Would I have cared?
Usually when I chase a boy that needs saving , I get into trouble….
Collect your RANDOM WORD HERE
Makes this tale mangy from substance abuse.
It rips at the soul-
Makes censorship an ideal way to protect society
from the ugly truth.
Covering up their tracks.
makes for an abode
Senses summoned in to serve
a genre of the common trap.
Crazy contravenes with inner child’s freshly painted creche.
Isn’t as mighty
Paired up with a jogger,
a fit bit,
When did time get so slow?
Armour of organs in free harmonic flow.
It is wise to know.
beat sets up another trap for
The inner mouse.
it will come out.
Big Ben caught in the designated zepherous zone.
Failed to save uncapped pressure
Builds up into a deafening detonation.
The inner logic was damage limitation.
The government ordered trench coats
In full sight.
pollution seeps out from a piercing moan.
Bridal mess Sleuths about
Track tips far too early.
Hands cover sight.
Mind convinced its temporary.
It’s all right.
Habits washed in deficient light
The decision fully saddled.
The course is hardened terrain
Rumours rustle barren branches
summer shamed of its remaining leaves.
Point fingers in one direction.
Signpost makes a statement!
The border of Insanity.
the cartwheels-the body released from tension
Moment of clarity
woe, for the gifted
thorn scented roses
Stoney carves out
The centurion tone.
Inflicts an incident.
Arithmetic arrests Maroon’s motion.
Apprehended by fear.
Not one morsel intervenes.
Iris catches sight
A distasteful Discovery.
burnt the ceremonial toast.
A legitimate excuse
eyes wide open
Does it need to be said
Because the Media makes you think your makeup is inappropriate?
If you are horrified to ask Google for mental health support
You know I’m here to tell it — (once )’for a cause not for an applause’
To avoid the pariah of your mind.
Who you are is important for your wellbeing
Beautiful you are because of your malaise.
It’s about what you think.
A unique template for peace of mind.
Alone-thoughts are you,
And yours together.
Others’ opinions must dance alone with their shadows.
Fathoming the world is relative to your state
Diagrams and graphic diagnostics aren’t “normal”!
Merely for inferences and academic utterances.
Your Beauty is personified by playful events racing around your head.
Love it like you love…
Those who have numbers and words yet can’t calculate when there’s enough unsaid.
Needs are experiences.
Feelings are needed…
Interpret the world through the vessel of your spirited Self.
When skies hang drab
Do you dazzle because you can see a scattered horizon of hope — as a possibility ?
When the Others tether connections
Tumble into an abyss —
Can you see their limits ?
Allow them to be.
Is your world subject to scrutiny because of how you interpret human nature?
Do you deviate from society’s accusations of what is the trending status quo?
What if the box you live in is… outside?
What if you build a bridge
Bearing a cross
Over to acceptable taboos ?
Breath prescribed by an arched smile.
Diagnose yourself Beautiful- because of your laments.
Before time becomes an absolute Obsession
Forecasting the outcome to the finale to the play of ‘This is your Life’.
Take moments to repose.
Free yourself from the expectation
To be your career
To win over the Marvel comic genderless hero.
Deprecate your expectations to finance your inner Happiness resources.
This entity is inside your realm of Consciousness — restless
Trodden and stamped into a standing pose.
Moments of reflection pace
Forwards then backwards
Are you what you want to be?
Can you begin a journey if you don’t understand where you are?
Certainly living up to some other lifer’s calculation should
Pause your being into a statuesque introspection.
To dismiss your guttural instincts will unravel you at the seams— out-thread you out of your very own mind.
Success comes from mapping out your own directions.
Hopeful-to wake up to another day of understanding ‘This is your Life’.
Your ability to comprehend, foreshadows your failed attempts to claw out of the darkest pit.
Sounds of the ocean lap to your melody.
Nothing that you feel about Today
Can conceive the trembling murmurs cut off from the guillotine of your Sanity.
In all of your figurements…are you determined to act out your suicides because you fear your inability to state your arousel ?
Who you are
Is that wrong?
Thoughts preempt if everything is filled in with Leftism.
Dismiss you have the good view
Change your world
That threatens your Passions —
That provokes beta beatings whistling out of tune.
Precious notions find a sense of disambiguation before the matter resolves itself.
Do you tell others to respond to what you fail to question?
Where is the perversity in watching the death of your inner Flinch — to conclude this delusion ?
What if you won’t be the canvas that contains an abstract spectrum fading you out of your very own Self ?
Look on at those who shrink into their frames bled of every shade of hues
Is this what you want?
A woman who professes to be authentic
Yet all she does is make herself look pathetic.
The heart connects with what it wants.
Mind comes in with that rational thought of ‘you can’t’.
Deserve to be kicked to the gutter.
She can’t even summon up the courage to talk about it.
It all comes out in a garbled stutter!
“Believe in yourself.”
“I know you are scared.”
She only ever wanted to see him fare and succeed in his own concept of desired wealth.
He says: “We can’t be in the same room as each other”
For he and her may just tear their clothes apart again and enjoy skin on skin contact -She loves to discover.
She walked out like a harlot.
Made her bed and
Oh, how she lay in it!
Thorns are necessary to feel the pain of her errant milkmaid, hay, rollicking moment as Charlotte.
She is not some good little girl who knows how to carve a lie out of it.
A piece of her heart is not with her.
She left it with another soul she is not allowed to bother.
What one wants the other has,
what the other wants the other has.
Be a happy family.
You are going to have to rip this ‘party girl’ crown off her to get some sense of loyalty.
She is the betrayer.
She shows what she reaps.
If that means loss.
Then I guess she needs to stick to her decisions and take the leap.
“Look into my eyes,”
“did you feel it?”
Or is that her reading into things too much and getting smogged in the thick of this illusory bet?
Illusions and fantasy are all played out fantastically in the mind.
Put it into practice and she gets to be the one who has to deal with her foibles and his own “diplomatic” declines.
She is going to make it through it,
no matter what she does.
She is here for a purpose.
Let’s make sure it counts and is worth it.
The harlot – the whore.
The one who felt wanted for a whole hour more.
Do the right thing.
She tries but her heart fucking stings.