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Acrostic poetry -Daisy

Acrostic poetry -Daisy

Jun 24

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D utifully fights death with hope

A ccepts pain will help shed its old purpose

I n light it seeks for a rebirth – instincts prevail

S adness embrace – for loss will lead to freedom

Y esterday is a forget me not – a death sentence.

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Random generation of Procrastination

Random generation of Procrastination

Feb 13

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  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.

 

 

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Janus of global slang

Janus of global slang

Oct 29

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Inspired by his lyrics – it’s not exactly physics.

Big boy

Little boy

Atomic bomb don’t come across as coy.

Paranoia looms over a  shadow with no owner.

Scented thoughts hang outside on the laundry line –  drying out, pegged up, sketchy.

Nowt out of the ordinary.

The demise of senseless beatings.

The savage frolic in secret meetings.

Can’t keep these eyes open – Mind is wired to sensor an alert token.

Add a word to the vocabulary list.

Reading made up stories,

Can’t get the gist.

Thinking of  the times I’ve reinvented my speech,

Just so folk wouldn’t turn away

Or,

Mistake me for a blast of mist.

Solar plexus

A libran to balance my ails.

 If vaccines worked, would I even need this skeleton tail?

I’m proficient in scripted fulminate. 

A non- believer has to have a reason to detonate.

Terrorized by bones unhinged, pelvic oddities, a face grappling on the fringes.

Uncertainty – you can do it!

Mascot duty bellows:  You blew it.

Everyday the input becomes more,

Ouput audios in a  fervescent roar.

Fading into a nebulant place slowed down by brain freezers swimming in a shoal.

No  near-empty dregs to fill my soul.

Restricted by self- limitation.

Hear me when  I say,

I’m not doing this for inspiration.

What to do in a world knocked into  askew?

Nondescript,  omniscient  eyes

Know when to usher in the seasonal yule.

Nonsense?

no sense.

Prop me up.

Inhale oxygen.

Don’t give up.

Against all better judgment – I implode from the inside.

I had it all figured out until I became a seeker in need of washed out make -overs from dead flotsam at low tide.

*Inspired by internal conflict and the world.* 😀 

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Posted in EXPERIMENTAL WRITING

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These few words are my words

Write to recover

or die living the life of another

I disappoint your heart everyday.

I rape it copiously

Hope you  won’t wake up.

Its better to get fucked over if you are asleep or slightly disorderly .

I don’t know why I am this way

muster the audacity to pretend life is Gaye

I wonder why I’m still alive,

and the I look into the eyes do my cherub sent from the royal family of storks

She and my tabby are my family.

my heart beats-disorderly but it tangos  to their bars to be free.

 

DAISY UPDATE:

I’m trying to live with a bit of weight I have gained. I hate this medication – deposit injections in the ass are primitive. 

Still divorced -still fighting to have my voice heard and to live creatively 

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Force of drole

Force of drole

May 10

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*writing to recover-writing to remember who I am. Writing and shrugging off the insults of so-called friends/family

The drole of this world’s a part of my repertoire

 Seek it out

I  observe the stars bluster out a cosmic sigh

Sun ushers in to greet me then say to me high

 

Sunshine deflated-slips behind

Coy eyelashes flicker

An  elusive goodbye

 

Landscape sightings report the sun’s trickery

It can’t revolve above or under the sky.

 

Planet earth is a cookie cut out

flattened into shape

Dictated to — its norm of a lay by

infinite  stutters unlace

La Luna

part ways

  left heartbroken

creating ripples across the water

Oft blurred.

 wanton to view her beguiling manner this eve

Don’t watch this space

It leaves room for an innuendo

genre style-

budgie budgets cos it’s an indie myna on the fly by

Gutted cos this  reads across as a novice  flatulently  windy

Lost confidence in his nature.

Stole a spirit

it wasn’t even mine

Finale parts the legs of barbie inbreds in-laws.

Cheap cheap

underwear-blatantly reveals the remnants of a hookah   smoky blows

secreting a house ablaze

brush off an ashen doll-

pasteurized

vented as Cindy.

Quality remains third-degree sightless

to the echelons taken over in a hazed quantity;

I think I died.

I have imposter syndrome

These words dictate I’m a genuine illiterate.

Forgive me for attempting to write

I forgot about that critter sitting amongst its fellow mate-the 5 10 midget

Oi ‘Arry Potter quick diversion tactic-start finding the golden   quidditch

Posted in EXPERIMENTAL WRITING, WRITE TO RECOVER

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