Category Archives: WRITTEN WORKS

These are my words part 10

propaganda tree

Random reflections.

We shouldn’t be afraid to reach our full potential in life and blossom. Yet we do. Are we so scared of decay and rot and to be forgotten? 

Seems that way.

We must not fight what and whom we were born to be. 

Why do I have to pick the one tree that I love, over all the other ones, that is only with us briefly?

A blossom tree

 

I wanted to get married under one. There is something so ethereal about them when I see them at the height of their beauty.

Falling petals.

The moment they seem most exquisite is when they are closer to death than life.

I see the beauty in death.

I see the beauty in life.

I researched what the Blossom tree has been used for as a symbol.

In Japan, in world war 2,

It became the symbol of patriotism to the Japanese people.

They too see how fleeting life is. All the more to live it with great deep breaths and with as much gusto and energy as one can.

LIVE!

 

What does piss me off is the propaganda the government spread around beliefs of the blossom tree.

As poetic as it sounds: It is said that people were encouraged to believe that when the souls of warriors died, they came back as blossom flowers.

A lovely notion but this is on a par with Roman rhetoric. It is a manipulation and I hate seeing the words – Nature and manipulation standing together.

But can the two exist without the other?

I think, let flowers live and be what they are.

Let us humans live and be what we are.

Humans with a  heightened awareness of the fragility of life,

are the ones that put the humane inhumaneness.

We don’t need to be any other but ourselves to stand out and be beautiful.

Look how magnificent we look when we coexist with nature.

Appreciate what we have today.

Our beauty in all its manifestations from the second we shine never leaves us -not even in physical death.

Yes.

It does transform.

Transformation is not a bad thing.

Revel in each one.

 

I

Always closer to death but rocking the Wabi-Sabi philosophy.

“Wabi-sabi reminds us that we are all transient beings on this planet—that our bodies, as well as the material world around us, are in the process of returning to dust.

Nature’s cycles of growth, decay, and erosion are embodied in frayed edges, rust, liver spots. Through wabi-sabi, we learn to embrace both the glory and the melancholy found in these marks of passing time.”

http://www.utne.com/mind-and-body/wabi-sabi.aspx

Beautiful because I am withered.

thoughts about faith

letting-go

The world globe doesn’t stop spinning today because our global happiness secret is something practised around the world, any time, any place.

SECRET TO HAPPINESS: Reign in the need to control everything and have faith

TRADITION: Prayer / mantras/ meditation

DATE: Everyday

CELEBRATED :Around the world.

I don’t know about you but I have always had control issues- my weight being a huge bugbear. I even want control over things like knowing what my Birthday presents are.  I mean I used to  hate surprises. I think it has something to do with knowing how to react. I don’t want to get into loads of  pyscho babble. Surprisingly 😉 (wink wink nudge nudge)   I do like surprises more than I used to. Lots of therapy did the trick 😀

The truth is;

Can we control the weather?

Well, if we  actually did something to help our environment maybe we can to some degree save it, but we can’t control if it is going to snow, rain, etc..

Can we control the economy?

No, because we already have a bunch of corrupt bastards who have a better hand in ‘controlling’ it – to be fair no one can control it but they can influence it.

Can we control Death?  No.

George Michael hit it on the nail when he sang

‘you gotta have a little faith a faith a faith aaah.’- that is how it goes in my head anyhow.

Faith  hooks an index finger under our chin and turns our face to it and says;

“It is what it is”

images (1)

Faith is always linked with Religion.  Whatever religion you can think of there is always some ritual of offerings, prayers, sacrifices and putting our trust in an unseen entity ,that we  believe has the power ,that we perceive we  lack to change things.  I have a saying about this – you may not like it but when has that stopped me  from being blunt before?

 By all means practice your faith and let me practice mine or lack of it.  I always get peoples backs up when I say,

” Why give some invincible God all the credit for my own hard work?  Credit where it is due. “

I’m  kind of kidding. We all need to place our faith in something when  there is the possibility of losing all hope.  The same goes for what we can and can’t control.

 My family have this in-house joke that my Grandad is up in heaven or wherever and ‘making bets and business deals with God’ .

That’s why we surrender.  There is no address we can Google, no appointment we can make to visit our God of choice and talk business. We don’t know if our ‘prayers’ will be answered -so we have to take comfort in hoping that our Gods are merciful.  There is always the middle man – priest, witch doctor etc..

Personally, I prefer to go to the direct source.

This is where faith can ‘move mountains’ – as the saying goes. The  direct source  of faith is inside us all, no matter what religion we identify with.   When you get on the plane for your vacation – you place your faith in the pilot to get you to xyz destination. You don’t ask him which God he answers to. If we need surgery we place our trust in doctors of all faiths because  in my opinion all those faiths lead to one source.

images

 For what it’s worth,I believe in something more tangible – I believe in energy. That energy doesn’t discriminate. My faith is  in knowing there is scientific proof  that there is kinetic energy. I believe when I release any energy I am holding hostage inside me in the form of thoughts ,emotions etc… it helps me direct my energies  outwards into the cosmos.

So, when things are not going so great, think about what it is that you can truly control and cannot control. This post is not about religion. It’s about taking ownership of what you truly have power over  that can make a difference and letting go of the things that you can’t control.

Example:

You can’t control it if your partner cheats on you but you can control how you respond and how  you let it play out.  You decide the outcome –  you may decide to never place your trust in another person again. You can also summon up hope and have faith that things will get better over time.  Your heart will mend.

MESSAGE: Unburden yourself. Who ever  you place your trust in – be it  a God, an Angel, the four elements, energy, allow them him/her/it  to lift the weight off your shoulders of  what is beyond your control.  Only then can you truly move forward and be free.

 

(ALL IMAGES SOURED FROM GOOGLE IMAGES)

 

Melody of those in the Same boat

My cow bells are a little bit off par
My serenade seemingly won’t separate the stars

They’re dying
Earth bound

Trees won’t surround my natural state of being.

Everything I feel
My inner sight.

I’m meant to be singing a stream of consciousness of my inner plight
To gloat I’m on another planet.

If only I knew how to consistently cope

In this moment
In this dimension
I might have a bit of hope.

A full fleshed 3 D character would awash with the flostam
Starting from the Knee deep creeping up to reveal my fragile throat.

I’m you, man.
You are me, men and women.

We’re all floating in the same boat.

Different directions
In water we still get soaked.

A place we try to fathom
No .
stake as our own.

If not to deem ours authentically
Then atleast to titillate to titivate
With a decorum of sensuality

Mike banana

I don’t believe in a day a tee.

I don’t believe in a die a tee.

I believe in emotions.

A parable.

A moral .

A story. A lesson to learn.

If I listened without interrupting ( never filmed my candidates on camera) I would see my past ignorance for intentional hind sight ah.. pause… ( episodic moment).

Should have put a hashtag

(#) may cause seizures * bright lights * drug use * misuse * violence * harsh violence * .

Film censorship can be deceiving.

I watch many films primed or netted for my viewing,

I see the warnings and see violence ,

Albeit sexual violent violence I need a bit of tuning.

I started this off topic ness from listening to a past recorded conversation. I’m out of my depth .

I see

I’m out of my depth.

Now..

I’ve a 6 4 2 bounce back pillow from the silent sisters who muted on their way to the unseen pleides.

Piroutte mode.

Did I lose you to a Mike bananas T- shirt that the mad republic would ask a beetle to submerge These words to a submermarine …. 7 dots of dismal drivel.

Iil

Love less -a pense poem

I’ve never done this type of poem. The format is straight forward.

Title 2 syllables

Description 4 syllables

Action is 6 syllables

location 8 syllables

ending 6 syllables.

And the final rule is that it can’t rhyme

LOVE LESS


it won’t hurt much
scrub off the scent of his odour
bleach the bath with your morning shit
love costs more heartache

Passion less magical

Cats demand cuddles
A clean page soaked in wasted words written in yellow ink
The music falls on deaf ears
Unread unopened books will let me down – or will it be my imagination?
I glance around the room of despair comfortably numb for three hours until a child smiles for her mom’s unfounded fears.

Untitled

so inept by a blackened imagination
colours wither away, winter outsmiles
stilled yet not frozen. those exhiled frowns en route stragglers exhiled to Siberia.


I’m desperately desolate that these nightmares took the by pass . Limits to hope of revelling in reality once more spring
bursts into a yawn , light stretches worn out clinging onto last winter’s stained sweater.


A scream demands tending to kettle whistling for it’s masters attention
it begs summer to part with mercy & grace
so inept by a blackened imagination.

Justify

Why do I justify myself to others if I’m not working in a full paid life capacity?

It’s not like we’re still living in a Victorian era where I need to prove I’ve achieved my full belt in chastity.

I’m not kept nor groomed.

I’m a woman of the age of independence. When I hold my breathe I think of the oceans of ambition, fills me to a combustion ends- infallibility.

Self justification.

Words to sell the people who haven’t walked a second in my shoes.

Self justification who’ve never seen a man who sold ice creams on a beach with his bare arms.

No feet.

No feat.

He wouldn’t allow the cha cha dance of life let him be the one who gave in to defeat.

Even when the sun, it melted into his ebony skin-a parched man not bitter .

Even when children mocked him with no adult to inform them they were creating a culture where we judge people by being born in breach.

These words are going nowhere unless, I tell people I’m a winner regardless of the mind state – an alternative view they may one day wish to seek.

Their unbeknownst ignorance of those mountains I’ve so far climbed to be deemed fit in a society increasingly lacking in human empathy just to stay in view

To remain an arm within terre ferme reach

These are my words. This is what I wish to impart. I refuse to give up until my soul recoils from my body,

Honours it’s vow –til death do us part.

If you taunt me I’ve learned

Not to teach nor preach.

Life’s a beach.

I’m a woman of the world with nothing but reach.

Does this sound preachy ? 😉😅🤣🙄.

Gutted heart

My hearts in my gut

My tears already fall in that tropical fashion

My body already heaves with my breath like a speedy version of listening to the tides pull back and pull in -pushing my head under the ocean and forcing me to taste the entire body of it’s salty tears

Words are our mercy

I have to read a few quotes of Oscar Wilde’s 100 page letter to his lover whilst incarcerated in prison for homosexuality called ‘Profundi’ ( read full article at end of post)

A few people I have spoken with about Wilde’s works dislike him.

He wasn’t a sexist. How could he be? He was for civility or equality and many of his musings and poems big up women & make fun at men.He was abhorred by society for being a homosexual.

For loving some one with his entire being.
Most of us may never feel that intensity of love. To love even if your life is at stake, your career – your status takes utter devotion.

Society is cruel,it really is and from reading this post I truly believe that words are our way to freedom. The one thing / people that we are not at mercy to .

Words are our mercy.

Quote Natasha Bodley

A trip to Oxford reading prison is now on my bucket list.

I became so emotional reading parts of it in this article.

One of my favourite parts of his letter Profundi

I want to get to the point when I shall be able to say quite simply, and without affectation that the two great turning-points in my life were when my father sent me to Oxford, and when society sent me to prison. I will not say that prison is the best thing that could have happened to me: for that phrase would savour of too great bitterness towards myself. I would sooner say, or hear it said of me, that I was so typical a child of my age, that in my perversity, and for that perversity’s sake, I turned the good things of my life to evil, and the evil things of my life to good.

What is said, however, by myself or by others, matters little. The important thing, the thing that lies before me, the thing that I have to do, if the brief remainder of my days is not to be maimed, marred, and incomplete, is to absorb into my nature all that has been done to me, to make it part of me, to accept it without complaint, fear, or reluctance. The supreme vice is shallowness. Whatever is realised is right.

[…]

Society, as we have constituted it, will have no place for me, has none to offer; but Nature, whose sweet rains fall on unjust and just alike, will have clefts in the rocks where I may hide, and secret valleys in whose silence I may weep undisturbed. She will hang the night with stars so that I may walk abroad in the darkness without stumbling, and send the wind over my footprints so that none may track me to my hurt: she will cleanse me in great waters, and with bitter herbs make me whole.

BRAIN PICKINGS

A semi colon saves the day

On the 11 of May 2020 I attempted my final suicide -or so I thought.
I had read the suicide manual.

I chose death by overdose this time. I crushed the tablets into a gooey mixture -(added small drops of liquid)-with a morsel and pestle.

Measured a small dose of alcohal to 3/4’s apple juice then chugged the paste down without any hesitation.


Fear entered my brain a cloud saturated in grey -I let it sail past
Its size was irrelevant

I had to achieve death. One thing I was good at. Finding a way to cease to be

My other attempts were slow suicides. Sectioned multiple times -an inpatient stay -12 months at a time starving my body hadn’t worked
A suicidal coward -I couldn’t live with an ego wounded with a false hubris made shirt.

I waited until I was alone – my calculations of jumping off suicide bridge again seemed ill prepared for what I had in store.

Quetiapine -antipsychotic medication was a miscalculation too
The symptoms agitated my unconscious state


Stairs lead me to the front door
This is an account from my husband-yellow flowers in his hand
he found me regurgitating on my vomit on the kitchen floor.

In 2018 I ended up in ICU 9 hours -my mother prayed -I raged from her selfish wants.
She had no understanding of living day to day in a body half sawed from an asylum hijacked from myriad peacocks relentless
until I escaped -there sounds crawled up my spine
Lit upmy human barbaric side -quelled the blaze could not be subdued.

2020 -Inhaling my vomit
husband pushed open the back door with yellow roses to cheer me up
He knew I was running off the cliff – he thought let me cheer my missus up.

Many hours, days I was tortured by Aliens
Abducted. I pleaded for the fire to cease
for water to replenishes my thirst.
World War 2 Masks leering over me
cold showers
Christians say I was in purgatory.

Mother on her knees
The daughter wrote to me in my sleeping castle.
I fought against the tube pipe minutes from a trachae-I begged for freedom -a place filled with light.
Hell what would I know?
Aliens abducted me -I know that cold water
Sticks prodded

Probing up my nose

Mind tricks disregarded my pleas to change
let me leave
I knew no prayer or god would release me
A face painted up as my mother caught my eye –

my daughter couldn’t hold my attention.

Guilt fit to burst out tears .

Gassed for my lack of integrity

I found out how many days my dear mother prayed for me to come out of my coma.

The family started reconciling I was on a life support machine-close to brain damage, paralysed- death would be the prayer for my destiny.

Once again -her rosary beads anointed her
Happy birthday mum, where am I ?-

the aliens bid me farefill after a 5 day probing
An experiment not worthy of their intelligence
It was all for nothing


10 days later I was high on life.

A hug doesn’t help, nor did talking, self-medicating, reaching out to my tribe.
Suicide is not the answer unless you are sure you know why you want to say goodbye.
Do your research & even then you might not die.
Months go by
I’m still here -my body & thoughts to collude with troubles from 3months
Gone by– I thought I had dealt with my trauma by attempting to stage my greater suicide attempt.


Life toys with my perception -some days I laugh – other days I scream at the injustice of the helpful folk who saved my life without my consent
I’m present – I’m still here.
This is my journey. I’m seeking help. I hope to find peace before death shrouds all philosophical thought.

SUICIDE ATTEMPT 25?
I’m still alive
SURPRISE! -no mask

Oh, wait the mirror betrayed me when I stopped seeing myself without a glare.

https://www.samaritans.org/support-us/campaign/world-suicide-prevention-day/http://WORLD SUICIDE PREVENTION DAY

https://www.samaritans.org/support-us/campaign/world-suicide-prevention-day/http://WORLD SUICIDE PREVENTION DAY