Category Archives: STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS COLLECTION

Slinging Sleuth

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.

Instead,

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,

awaken you,

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 –

fun?

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 something?

someone familiar?

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 as you like

 

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.

Hockey team?

Feeling like I do

 Score as many times as you like.

Surrogate needed?

No.

Suffragette?

 Yes,

Suffer we must

those who refuse to eat and instead are force-fed  chickens on a battery farm.

Cow or Bull?

Shit,

Conflict.

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,

I have.

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.

Monopoly.

Monopolise.

monogamy.

Westerners sodomise.

How to end with a two-letter word?

 Shall I be a rebel and give not one but two fingers up to the rules?

Broken.

glass.

splinters –

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.

You two?

too?

or,

to?

or rather,

enter in to.

My Consent.

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-

 it flows.

Riding on a high:I think I can fly.

I hit the floor -head first.

 Brain cells die.

The illusion is no more.

Clueless.

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.

Syntax.

It ain’t hard to fill out my own sin award credit tax.

Register!

Therefore, I are pilgrim -like innit mega -sir!

Noun ?

Bitch,

 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 –

AH!

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’m scared.

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?

Now.

Present.

Past is a bit tense.

Future has been signed by my consent.

Got to the end – we all want a happy ending.

Sugar

I made this shit up.



Opium Boy

 


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….

Random generation of Procrastination

  1. Collect your  RANDOM WORD HERE 

News

Makes this tale mangy from substance abuse.

It rips at the soul-

 Makes censorship an ideal way to protect society

from the ugly truth.

Weak humans

Covering up their tracks.

Idle loneliness

makes for an abode

 Senses  summoned in to serve

 body possession

resembles

a genre of  the common trap.

Jedi modification

trance.

silence

or

Depeche  mode

Crazy contravenes with inner child’s freshly painted creche.

Dynamo

Isn’t as mighty

 Paired up with a jogger,

 a fit bit,

and a

radiant glow.

Three strikes.

When did time get so slow?

this temple-

Armour of organs in free harmonic flow.

one

Sincerely thinks.

Yes.

It is wise to know.

Faithfully your

beat  sets up another trap for

The inner mouse.

Eventually,

it will come out.

lose control.

No.

Leave.

Go!

 Big Ben caught in the designated zepherous zone.

 Failed  to save uncapped pressure

 Builds up into a deafening detonation.

Unintentional.

The inner logic was damage limitation.

The government ordered trench coats

  In full sight.

Tainted

 unprotected,

pollution seeps out from a  piercing moan.

Bridal mess   Sleuths about

 in slippers.

 Track tips far too early.

Nevertheless

behind.

Hands cover sight.

Mind convinced its temporary.

Blindspot.

Nevertheless

It’s all right.

Habits washed in  deficient  light

 credit token-

a  gesture.

kinder

More compassionate.

Guilt?

perhaps…

The decision fully saddled.

Vows  riddled

Wholly broken.

The course is  hardened terrain

Rumours rustle  barren branches

 summer shamed of its remaining leaves.

Scarlett

Stops

Shaded

Strangers

Point fingers in one direction.

Signpost makes a statement!

all-inclusive meals

Beyond

The border of Insanity.

Handstand

then

 the cartwheels-the body released from  tension

 Moment  of clarity

woe, for  the gifted

gasping on

thorn scented roses

Stoney  carves out

The centurion tone.

Inflicts an incident.

A beat.

A blockage.

A seizure.

 Arithmetic arrests Maroon’s motion.

Apprehended by fear.

Not one morsel intervenes.

homebound

Iris catches sight

 A distasteful  Discovery.

Host

bloody

broody

burnt the ceremonial toast.

Finally

Alone

A legitimate  excuse

 eyes wide open

 shed

Timely tears.

Sabali wabi sabi

SABALI WABISABI

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

Your kind.

Diagrams and graphic diagnostics aren’t “normal”!

Natural ?!

Necessary?

Merely for inferences and academic utterances.

Your Beauty is personified by playful events racing around your head.

Love it like you love…

…another human

Beings

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 ?

Step back.

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

Misunderstood

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.

Resist apologising

Dismiss you have the good view

Change your world

Thoughtfully

Refuse everything

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?

The harlot

Heathen!

Thieving!

Scheming!

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.

 

Slow down.

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.

 

Questions?

Answers!

“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.

 

No payment.

Just talk.

Do the right thing.

She tries but her heart fucking stings.

 

Blue eyes that pull her closer.

She pulls away because she knows that he can let this go and invite around a medley of his most champion party voters. 

She champions you as she always has,

 She respects your need to get your life in order.

When you  left you,

You never even looked back.

Just another 2 weeks of holding onto your sac.

Its cool.

  When she plays with fire, what must she expect? 

 a bunch of free fries to go with her  Macccie D?

Had more time to cuddle. 

The best part was the silence.

It didn’t feel awkward, it felt right in the wrongest circumstance.

Feeling alienated from my family.

My friends.

Blue pills and champagne soften the blow. 

 Why are we celebrating?

Her perfect timing on how to right and sort out the logistics of it all and tamper with a heart is an epic disaster

-given to me by another.

No butter required!

The harlot pays her own way, just for the record.

Feeling impulsive, doped up and feeling not too shit. She thought she would wake up in A&E –

Some source has greater plans for her.

I don’t know how he can bear to look at her. 

She wants you to know that she  loves You G

the You! fallacy

THE YOU! FALLACY 

Just jotting my thoughts. I’ve been prompted to make a complaint.

little four eyes when you were half your current size -why did you doubt yourself so?

Looking back to a densely plotted past – hazy.

What would you have done knowing all people doubt themselves even if it means you becoming the foe?

‘Have no regrets’ – the tagline of the present.

no regrets, no regrets, no regrets.

When you are looking at granny in a catatonic state, unable to walk or talk. Fragments of images of people now gone, tell me you won’t wonder how life would have played out by taking assertive bets.

Complaints department – sizable queue. 

What can we do to answer people’s feuds?

Create a passage for people to commit to taking responsibility for themselves, sign that in ink and wrangle with their own moods.

Blame everyone.

You!

You,

and you!

well…… the list unfolds until it reaches the flaws of flooring.

Fingers pointing in every direction. Buckle up, prepare to look within and see how far you can go when you begin to see only you can change your state of deploring.

Control comes not from puppeteering others. Cut loose – let the strings fall.Let people walk,

hell! let them figure it out-  leave them to crawl.

Worry about how you are going to make it. What you need to do to advance in the dance – motions to elevate and bypass the savage instinct to maul.

How many complaints is your God of choice dealing with?

in Her brassic attempt to fulfil everyone’s wish

Did it ever occur to you to get off your indignant knees to check out the employment vacancies for extras needed to help your  God succeed in appetising your particular dish?

Stop giving control to others to fix your problems. You have a brain, how much has been wasted?

Think of the energy and time used in a  futile attempt to get people to see your view,

the moment before the curtains go down you have become the finale unstitched,  obtusely basted.

What do you do to make this world a better place?

What do you do to help us people stay in the race with human grace?

Life is never going to get easy – you’re never going to be 100%  fulfilled. There will always be a doughnut sized whole to fill.

Do you even know what it is you need to fix yourself?   In monetary terms, you will have to pay for your own self- advocacy bill.

Money, time and energy well spent making you a person who can figure out how to make sense.

Dig deep and take a deep breath-  Don’t be afraid to be a master of your own success.

To run away from your potential achievement will be your greatest offence.


The unsensational one dimensionals

 The pain inside me remains the real deal

It’s  a tragedy how I  only cruise on wordpress when I have tears dripping onto the steering wheel.

The journey that promotes me to tap away is always inspired by an ill gotten day.

Deal with the past. It’s too easy to blame.

I swear, I  look forward.

Stand up for where I  go wrong and who I  maim.

Revolving doors of asylum,  inpatient wannabe beauticians.

Incredulous  that  my  own mother

bipolar, institionalised,

beaten by her lovers and suffered her own ills.

Thinks its better to throw me behind the institution with E.C.T.  waves and the  barbed wire.

Jesus had a crown of thorns – aesthetically cruel in their Romanic decisions.

It’s  a loop on a loop.

more drama –

 Every.

Week.

It’s.

Something.

 New.

No.

every week its  the same song coming out in different shade of blue.

This won’t disappear by erasing my face from your mind.

My child is my glory.

You wonder why i can’t take this lying down?

 instead I give you the flamboyant, cussation  sign

 Call the crisis team.

We live in a Theresa May ,Tory sperm infested  government.

I’m not suicidal.

I’m not drinking

I’m not overdosing

 Not taking drugs.

Merely holding myself at a metaphorical  gunpoint.

I want to protect my family from the inner Iago in me.

Deceives and twists all the good my heart seeks to see.

A mighty herculean -blinded by rage.

Numbers  are his torment – he looks to  them like riches dripped in gold.

an obssesive compulsive disorder compells him to have less –

It  must be all light  and sage.

Alone , i wake up to the sound of silence.

No daughter to say good bye to ,

 no husband plodding about drinking coffee and watching QI on rinse.

In Africa I would be welcomed for my rise in weight.

I’m not in Africa.

I’m in a mind fed on media, with distorted ideas about what to look like.

Social media , I hate.

Insight is a curse -Ignorance is bliss.

Two weeks away from my deadline.

 Post graduate, Daisy willows , in the Humanities

I  should be riding out to the ocean to collect my sun’s kiss.

I feel like I’m there for everyone- I listen  to their woes.

I jump up and celebrate every time they make a success of their lives.

 They shine so bright – I call them my ‘little twinkle toes’.

I know I shouldn’t expect,

then I wouldn’t ‘t get disappointed.

I do,

 i do…

I do..

 life.

I keep up appearances until the night terrors pull me out of my bed, torture me under veiled sight.

 Days

 filled with  infected cuts and perceptions line up disjointed.

I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a family!

So, why do you get the hump when i have no other alternative but to call up the family intervention team?

I want my daughter to grow up without these bouts of fits & confusion.

the cycle of poorly managed mental health to skip a generation .

 Enough with another  ‘daughter following  in her mother’s  steps’ delusion.

There is more to the back lash of her tounge and callous remarks than plain  old wickedness.

We are a narrative of complex emotions bound up, in a body of flesh and bones.

look beyond your eye line fall.

Seek and you  will find a person who is not transparent -less.
Sick of seeking approval from social media one dimensional folk.

Cull the people who can’t see it for what it is.

 Fakery

 it’s  beyond a joke.

Cutting down on so called friends.

re catagorise my means to justify making  ethical ends.

 People see right through you

Unless your name is printed in black and white.

The best stars shine and go about unseen,

making wishes of hope seem bright.

Her rage tips over the sides – the current for those who get credit for being generico stereotype.

It’s all hype.

they barely even look alive.

I want justice.

I want the people who make a difference

 to get credit where its due.

I’ve had enough of this  fake bakery .

Diabetic shots brings out the bad assery in me.

I’m done with pretentious folk .

Emotional  vampires who expect.

Because they think they precribe the ideal look.

Its sad, a shame.

Don’t get caught up in the superficial.

Remember, reality goes way past the fantasy of this screen.

Cos we naturally wired to be a human being.

We need to communicate

 reciprocate.

Technology has purpose – it’s not for living life in a kumbaya state.

So many lies,

people all have ties

Issues-

That keep them  reaching out for 39p tissues.

I’m here for authenticity.

Denounce those who I see,

in all their duplicity.

I can’t be good and kind to all that seek attention.

selfish,

marred

 How tragic is this situation?

Goodbye to many of you.

who will never wake from your boggled  eyed fallacy.

I don’t do this out of spite or even maliciously .

I see clearly what and who holds me back.

My sole purpose is to stay on track.

So good bye to some of  those

I’ve met on my path

Good luck with your life and everything that comes with decisions aftermath.

I aint got no more energy for you.

My people, my life needs my attention. Arrears paid up –

Well overdue.

 Mini life update 14 days  until I  hand in my End Of Module assessment for year one of my Masters. 😛

I will have a post graduate certificate in the Humanities 😛🤓🤓

I have news….

A director (not name dropping) wants me  to send him my script about the homeless couple.

I don’t think Im going to……..

Or maybe I should …..

I don’t know.

I’ve never thought  I was a good enough writer to see my work brought to life.

It”s scary to think that success is possible.

Rejection is normal, but the more I distance myself from the people in my life who made/make me feel shit about myself, and my abilities, and my sense of belonging; the more I  meet  people who see the good in me .

 I don’t want to feel like shit around people.

So, I would rather be surrounded by a small number of those who are true and think I’m cool ish 😎😉.

Let the rest of world get their claws out in their need for attention, and to be heard.

 Be humble.

Life is a blessing already

One thing is for sure. I will never work for fame. I will always work for justice and what is right.

I’m struggling, but never will I give up or give in.

This heart beats.

These eyes have fire behind them

DAISY
Xxx

 

Old soul

OTHER WORDLY .

Unfathomable to relate how a portrait of an unaffected cherub

mirrors

a forgotten dimension to

the paradigm LONER.

PENSIVE – angelic eyes

unfreeze momentarily — expressions animate the oil painted canvas.

Voice barely audible -mouths out to me

Who is this new persona?

Blood of my labour sworn to tell the gospel TRUTH.

Astonished -wrinkles crease — at time ‘s wildfulness to penetrate her innocence—

She’s not looking back at her youth.

BULLIED

The cycle continues-

Elders blame the outsider for a lack of faith in conventional —Spirituality.

ELDER peers down through an intoxicating incensed haze.

Measure me up.

Squares me up.

On humble grounds

I stand a full head above her broad shoulders.

Closer to her divine maker

pious prayers hail down

the blame game

the name game.

Tortured soul seeker

Scarpers for the licks of hell’s flames.

trips over underwood

poltergeists log a strategic placed guilt ambush

rotting the core of this circle of life’s CONTINUITY.

AUTHORITY ISSUES.

Time will decide whether we are cosmic twins born 3 decades APART.

This is her descent  to destiny .

roughly sketched into this world-

pallid , charcoal smudged into silence.

An artist confronted with his frailty to conceive life.

Mourns the leftover clots of a being.

Miscariage – remnants of nurture -a mere puddle of blood outlining his corrosive flaw.

A splattering of colours, tears stained by remorse.

a howl of def toned melancholy

The artist sips a cup of penny total tea.

recomposed.

A sighed relief-

she has -AWAKENED.

ALONE – – is she fated too?

-The rebels never conforms

Transience

Stricken by the awareness of my own

MORTALITY.

 INQUISITIVE betrayed by her translucence

frown rouges her cheeks in introspection.

familiar strange words

Alienation effect prompts a impulsive turn around

the past

curses

damning this  loner to truly see.

An epiphany of divine INSIGHT

UNDER or OVER ACHIEVER perfection adorned with feathers of liberty –

don’t try to please anyone!

A storm intervenes obscuring the BIGGER PICTURE-

Save that energy

for life

is a gift and

It’s your greatest fight.

RESPONSIBLE for so much — tempted by earth’s seasonal affective disorder

Why does she have to be mortal?

Wings hook into shoulder blades

Reduced to a puppet attached by silver linings.

aerial view-

panoramic

circular murmuration

obsessive.

Eyes strain ,blood shot.

Wind exhales mustard peppered vapours

orchestrating sight to follow a new PERSPECTIVE.

WISDOM revealed by the crooked halo’d questions

glitterer

shimmers her every inflection.

the yearn of experience — to keep heavens babe toothless , unaware of the survival evolution taking place

Within.

TENACIOUS – I overlook her every smile

from above

stitched up my heart

remains

the scapegoat

the seeker.

until a moment forces me to find a burial ground

Unwillingly close my eyes –

the universe screeches –velocity erases all time.

Formless parts full up spaces amongst the dirt.

await for these settlers to wipe all memory from this life.

Old souls are never alone for eternity.

We have one another to rise above our hurt.



knowledge is power, wisdom is happiness and truth is freedom