Blog Archives

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.

Mercy for a chancer

 

 

 

When I say I want to disappear

By God, I truly want to conjure dark sorcery

never come back to this planet.

I’ve tried  to take my breathe  many times

 This might sound like Self -pity ( perhaps it is).

But I’m not here to get into it.

These are about my feelings.

I’m not a poet. I’m a person who has feelings & thoughts I need to express.

I’m not trying to hurt anybody.

I’m trying to live the best way I can,

I’ve tried to take my life many times (and) yet, here I am.

I do the best I can.

Deep pan Pizza, Fried Chicken,Sushi, Prosecco.

Get my fringe trimmed,

My daughter, a mermaid’s tail.

My husband.

Yes, I have sinned!

But I’m still here.

And all I want to do is disappear because I know that

Eventually-

Everyone I love,

Everyone I know is going to be gone.

And I wouldn’t have made the bonds with who I brought into this Life

Mor the people  I’ve met or come across.

I won’t have secured any bonds.

I am lost

I am always forlorn.

Flawed

I wear my

heart on my sleeve and

I cry. I

pace this kitchen over & over

And no I don’t have an excuse for relapsing

And I don’t have an excuse for what I have done.

If there’s one thing I am certain of my heart was invested in it all.I’m trying to do the best I can!

I wish I wasn’t here. I have plans- is this a death threat?

I don’t know.

All I know is there is pizza cooking, and I’m on my last tether

Overdoses don’t do it.

Maybe hang myself?

I’m (just) so far gone. This is not even a poem.

 

 

(Today)

Cards against Speciesism

For those who fight to never lose their voice

Everyone can feel like a
Nobody.

All it takes is a dose of creationist bacteria inciting
Ovulation
on grounds
countering against humanity.

Freedom shatters.

Gamblers peddle all the aces
Cards spiral up.

Hands-free
Offers newfound grip on this moment.

Chacha amorous until her blood shrieks out in Latin,

Homer

over and over until  ovaries

Acquaint within earshot of any species pulse

Inertia- vegetate in patouchlia tombstones
Nobody
sheds dull the skin held in chains invisible.

Some body is still

ignorant of a body disappearing into Huxtable ‘s fable.

 

Iris shows off her orderly pupils during regular school hours.

A Rainbow replenishes chakras.

True beauty
Illustrated by the refusal to keep a voice hidden.

Saints need sinners.

New mantra for the forward thinker
Disgrace all pulses without hesitation.

Life moves along

No need for your participation.

Bestiality was invented for superior beings fascination.

 

Queen of Tristesse

Stone cold.
I sit in silence.
Tears betray the death of Another beating heart.

Distant to my heartache.
Love is meaningless accented by meaningful Nuances.

Hunger strikes, I’m alone With the pangs,
Unsure if I want to feel the Caress of familiar hands

Or

If I’d rather escape to a Nether land.

Conjuring Magicians
Ready to sell inconspicuous potions.

Allow me to flee from my Skin.
Threaded by veins
Morose in temperament.

Aloof to the consequences Of escaping this reality.
Complicit to the sadness That shrieks in my Gut: Pierced spleen.

It’s not nearly as stomach Able as watching the Chambers of my heart in My hands

Weep.

For the moments tangled In lust.

The desire to be a part of Someone else’s sun.

To inhabit their orbit.

Study the stars
Share butterfly kisses
Break free into a wild run.

Freedom is a state of Mind.

Release me from the Bonds of this exile.

I am the hunted.
I am the hunter with the Blade ready to attack.

This is my vessel.
My only means to move forward.

Cut the strings for this Puppet will not be coerced To dance nor sing,

Until I find a simple hymn.

One to attest that another Mortal respects I am more than my sin.

Words hurriedly apologise to recapture that soul

Spotted

in the glimmer of dawn
It cowers fearful deep
Within.

Have a piece of my heart.
Have a piece of my words.

Sully not my thoughts to Taint my heart with more Leacherous poison.

I am breathing

Merely existing to find out how to win.

This is Life’s charade.
The cards dealt with each hand.

Thanks to Gaia for I have Both intact.

Able to use my body.
Able to use my mind
To forgive.

Though,
Not give in.

The melancholy of my
Aura glitters like a Midas Collectible
When it touches the man I call my king.

The weight of this gloom Thunders over me.

Cajoling me.

Repressing my desire to Quit
Killing myself.
Smile authentically. Blossom again.

It ’s not time to hide under sand beds
Muted into making me think I’m still not thin,

Enough.

These words don’t do Justice
To how I truly feel.
I lose people I love.

Gain friends who form a circled ring around me.

I have to reach out.
Allow a hand to bring me Full circle.

Alone,
I contemplate.

Fighting for the thud in my Heart.
Fighting for another hot Flushed blush.

Wondering
If I have already died.

Is living not for the likes of My kind?

Am I here to exist glibly?
A ruin of poorly
constructed pyramids?

I sit here in silence , Blowing out smoke rings
Made
Out
Of
My
Woes.

I’m the queen of Tristeness.
My position is to not give in.
(Queen of Tristesse part of the ‘Be happy or die trying chronicles)

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 honor,

Of all that is true.

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

Colors 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 mountain 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 to colours in clandestine!

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

My make up 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 demeanor.

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 torments 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.

Colonized and imprisoned by outdated Imperialists.

The world is full of egoistical folk in full throws of the delirium tremors.

Murmurs of fragile Life keeps 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 stabilize my Eco system.

If my world was captured by a drone;

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

Swimming side by side

dolphins & whales ad infinitum.