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When the flowers..

When the flowers stood still

My heart ❤️ skipped a beat

Because I thought by the grace of God I knew better.

The winter disarmed me with a smile, I was suddenly subdued.

Momentarily I knew my panic attacks were an illusion

A mind convinced I would die as a strumpet without learning how to be astute.

I couldn’t be a pale white whore for the others to flagellate me.

Keep me in line with further a duty

Because I know my experience wasn’t to be an accordion.

To the whims of those who asked me to be a subordinate

For a season

My tears wouldn’t be known

My tears wouldn’t be recognised

Unless I said NO.

Freed from the shackles

A feminine bitch called crazy and intense

I believe that I was one of the few…

One more month and I would blossom from the weed who knew how to decipher the language lost in translation to her tribe that all wouldn’t always be askew.

One reason passes quicker than one can muster

Bide your time to break free from the shackles

The time the birds will come back to us in due time.

Freedom.

Your soul will find the strength to be reborn by winters ❄️ rebirth the sounds of baby sheep, foals, kids,

All will be reborn renewed

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

Illogic Trimester review

 Illogic has pushed the boundaries with the track  ‘First trimester’ ( Illogic – Celestial Clockwork (2004)).

Each verse focuses on the different perspective of a couple and their unborn child going through the decision of whether to keep their child or have an Abortion.

It’s a lateral thought-provoking song to the Life versus Pro-choice debate.

It is Illogics maturest track to date.

It highlights the need to create more awareness (about not only women) but Men’s thoughts and emotions; about Life & Abortion & challenging our beliefs. It definitely engages critically with this still taboo subject.

We seether gamut of emotions the couple go through trying to keep their relationship together & looking at what is best for their futures. The inner conflict is raw. The last verse from a child’s perspective blew me out of the water.

Chapeaux Illogic

 

Can’t Promise her a title

Lazily, a  tigeress snores into her paws . If only retiring was as simple to rule her inner world.

Curled up in warmth after a stroll  into the big wide world,then  settle for a quinquennium pause.

Her heart beats.

Nationalists- not even  patriots  are exempt.

All want to play in their own chord, tighten the strings ,she keeps  it together, to satisfy their crucified minds.

In a state of constant – motionless movement.

If not an act of physicality -drill cumbersomely inside her cranium and you will see chemicals and synapses – making up fresh bricks and mortar, to fit in with the latest homemade yeast infused hootchie.

Glance away now, for fear of pitying an evocative attempt to get a rise from it.

Secret plots to charge this queen with treason.

Where will she live?

Her throne burnt to the ground to make way for a newly elected dopamine and serotonin scrupulous , democratic union.

Flags of self-belief – burned infringed – protecting her staked land  was all this monarch tried to take into hand.

Defamation – character assassination.

Cloaked – in darkness- rat scuttles past – no pause – it already knows this violated prisoner is barren.

Scars and welts – a confession is sought after by the cardinal living east of the castle manor.

Employed only to instill courage when the  most powerful empire seized a chance to escape into heritic souls howling in the wind.

Faith and Hope – not draft an erratic, purple, incensed  dogmatic pope .

Dire retribution -execute the one who claims  this state is her very birthright.

Clubbed to her knees –  she will crawl  not humbly- you shall hear her plea.

She  wants to make them a better nation.

It’s her biggest exclamation.

Out plotted by her very own court –  bribed by cheap whores-given away by the roughness of their hands, dressed up as expert courtesans,  who clearly have seen at least one day of sun.

Intoxicated by some amorphous potion.

Formalyhde doused  in cleaveaged lace dresses – it was  not her initial notion.

A scented air  of burning flesh

A greek tragedy indeed.

Scorned by her very  owns subjects . She may be longitiduely  dimintitive  but she refuses to be bullied into showing them that wanted emotion.

Defeatist attitude does not a fit queen make.

Words in  a precise order do not  prize a piece of   art,

so clearly a fake.

Forgiveness is her only weapon. She won’t see her country  be overrun by zealous creachers.

It would appear her subjects wish to prove that she is illiterate.

Tortured, holding her breath under water to procure a confession – let her reiterate.

The crown is made to fit one head – It is symbolic and vaporizes with her when she  exhales all energy and   is varnished as  dead.

Look how you’ve turned on one another – in the pursuit of power. It is  a notorious illusion.

To master control over all subjects requires more than an iron-clad fist and an outraged dalliance to declare outright confusion.

Compassion,

nurture,

recognition and honor are what she   offers,

accept these as the wealthiest of gifts.

Only a fool would scream,

‘Off with her head‘ -a face full of sour lemons and a lust to frazzle the last tether.

The Noblest  of causes – so much bloodshed – look into her bloody, vein threaded eyes.

She hasn’t slept for weeks in her fight, to appease  all those in famine, hungry and underfed.

She  needs no  steering Regent to aid her  in her duty.

All she demands is loyalty and valor.

With you all at her side ready to conquer life’s copious battles,

we shall not go down .

your  hearts will not know the true grief  inflicted made up of another community of arrows.

we shall not waiver.

Trust in your queen to walk as a stout  cripple ,duty bound to protect and hold it all together.

Hashtag All Words matter

(context for this pieceI’ve been thinking about the words we ( I) use, (perhaps flippantly) at times. Without really thinking about the meaning of what we say to describe a person.An example? Crazy.
My 8-year-old daughter uses this word to describe anything / any a person who seemingly comes across as alien or eccentric to what she doesn’t understand people’s behaviour & words.
When I found out about the All Words Matter campaign that started a few years ago over being conscious of using the words we use to label people, like refugees versus using the word asylum seeker, I became inspired to write, Inspiration for this piece was taken from the urban dictionary).
I also want to challenge my vocabulary to use words that have an influence on the way we treat people.It’s about being aware of what we say & this culture of using words that take the English/ other languages and filter it through hashtags, miscommunication thus preventing people from appreciating & understanding other cultures. 

Here she comes
Me-the late bloomer
I have a revelation words matter circa 2019.
ALL WORDS MATTER.
Let me try and type something with substance
Words have power.
We
Collectively should choose our words carefully.
Don’t stop talking.
Hashtag it’s still okay to talk.
Start a difficult conversation.
Mental health is here for as long as we humans are.
For real…
Stop with the sincerely Stan — suicidal fan stereotyping-
Passive-aggressive greeting-Hello me hunties
Yes, I have a cunt and I won’t let any manhunt me-unless he is prepared to be chased too.
How can we all be so woke when
We still choose to believe in fake news?
People love to give blow jobs on other peoples words.
Most people swallow and don’t spit.
Retweet it to keep it 100.
Can we put a value on integrity?
Words matter-when we stand up for our belief to break away from the mould.
Open mic night’s expressions should be honoured by doing our words-over and over.
Especially when people aren’t watching.
Show and tell how to walk the talk.
Match a wage bet — that another brother’s claims of little Miss trouble are too high key.
It’s okay to talk.
Tupac, once said
real eyes
realize
real lies.
People should see before they make a judgement.
express yourself — in the socially accepted way-
Aspire to appear lowkey?
All these quotes about
Keep your personal business to yourself.-
Then do a 180 and take the ” power back”.
A calculated performance.
Reveal you know how to manipulate words — with barely legal finesse.
Hashtag wars still matter.
Use language for positive change.
Talk.
Start a difficult conversation.
Think about your fellow patient in the opposite bed.
Why does she have resting bitch face syndrome?
Why does she stare at the back after you state
‘That feeling when you feel like Britney spears circa 2007?
Oh, you have problems — you slit your wrists — oh how savage — roll of the eyes.
Let’s get creative with our words.
Affected by mental illness.
infected…..
Lives with a mental illness?
Or suffers from a mental illness?
How savage (roll of eyes)
These labels — — schizophrenics. Bipolar, psychotic.
2019 is the year where Everyone wants to be insane
the reason to be a certain way is the new aesthetic
or an excuse,
To be lowkey about our true shame and high key about superficial hurt not to lure in the Stans.
Whose that?
It’s not relevant (as long as I get approval from my fam or
My Sis from another Miss).
We are more than a tick boxed list of criteria.
We are complex humans, with diverse traits and interests.
Who is that? Over there- making a statement.
Crazy
psycho
nuts
lunatic
Not relevant — That there is just some extra.
insignificant
to you;
Not part of the true fam-
Is this how we wish people to feel?
Insignificant!
For all the RT’er’s out there who love to share,
Share your own personal story.
The world will become a place where you are lit by your integrity.
Not everyone can relate to the G.O.A.T.’s
With swagger.
We probably are pretty for real when we embrace our bromances and our militant feminists.
True power is being woke enough to see the ethic in bringing out the G. O. A. T. in EVERYONE of us.
We can all be lowkey.
We are all fam.
I’m not going to say its cool to call my new ‘ship interest-Dad.
Words matter
And the lack of them.
What we don’t say … is a statement of power.
Spoken word — maybe we all have inner dictator waiting to stand up and be heard.
I don’t know how we can claim to so woke when everything we do is to death.
What am I going on about?
Apologies for this is the mix in slang-
I’m not pedantic … I am keeping my integrity — my code of ethics.
If we are going to talk and be true about our feelings — Remember that the words we use to connect on a level can out you as a hypocrite-
Words matter because they help us communicate and relate with a diverse bunch of people who may end up feeling like family more than your own Dad or sis.
Communication can cause dis-ease — challenge our own self-awareness;
Not because you the go-to p[person to get the latest scoop on someone else in life detention.
It’s cool to be high key about not fitting the mould-
Embrace the idea that to be holistic is not going to conform to your method of living-
For real.
WE don’t have to be conventionally spiritual to have faith.
Well-being of the mind and body is the G.O.A.T.
– the power-
The perfect ratio.
Sometimes we fall — human after all …
I guess
When we outcast others for assuming their make up
Judging every part of them based on an undemocratic vote of what a person’s true disposition is.
How fair and unbiased are our Hugh key views when we don’t have the whole picture?
That moonscape — that attitude is a predisposition to sus and ghost others because of their diversity.
We spit words, stand up for diversity and equality-
Express ourselves through didactic verse.
Congratulate our selves on our ethics-to embrace the variety of our culture.
The irony is what we say and do,
What we say we are going to do.
And what we do when confronted with someone who is different and not facile two understand.
How quick we are to turn into heartless bastards and turn away from our own race.
Everyone is quick to look at the other person.
I Don’t see colour! I’m not racist.
I don’t discriminate, I’m well up for equality.
“Look at those tits!”
“She looks well up for it.”
“Crazy, cheating man-hating bitch.”
“Disrespecting my bro..”
Consult the bro code.
This divine, esoteric oracle states that she was asking for it.
She’s trouble.
Aaah Aaah Aaah BAH!
True story — a woman lived under apartheid then came to live in the patriarchal society of English gentry. She’s spoken up for herself — acted like a dude-how dare she!
Embraced the spoken word and unashamedly campaigned for the right that it is truly ok to talk.
Segregated cos she is diverse and predisposition to speak her mind, she made as many fuck ups as the people she met and spent time with.
She decided to end her borderline poetics with
these words
I don’t give a fuck, I know the world is bigger than a few small-minded , feeble gossips who use their words to bond
I “died” to be reborn.
I answer to nature, not people.