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Willful wrong

(a stream of consciousness  borderline poem unrevised) 

Whilst fleeing from the echoes of ‘you were in the wrong’. The Screws twist torture upon entering her 4th chamber.

Inside her bloody mind. Dried & pressed between her breasts

Leaves, stained by painting the roses red.

Long live to leave the Queen of Hearts

Lovers lost: Lovers found -past & tense -future is uncertainty abound.

Forever locked in a  gaze with the  omniscient eyes of Janus

Uncalculated, her actions motivated by too much heart. Unruly emotions betrayed her by treason. Penelope, she is not for a reason.

Lost to thoughts in solitude until reunited with like-minded misfits caught up in the cycles we call seasons.

 

* Inspiration for Acrostic poetry word ‘willful’ came from how some people describe me & I wrote this cos the one person I thought would “get” how complicated relationships are (didn’t). #write to recover and keep me sane.

 

willful

adjective

will·​ful | \ ˈwil-fəl \
variants: or wilful

Definition of willful

1: obstinately and often perversely self-willed a stubborn and willful child

Esther Roe

Charlie met Esther on abortionist row.

Hedges neatly trimmed – enough to dishevel a bearded vagabond to weep after his latest woe.

No coat hangers to gut the newborn sac.
Charlie stood for hours until her number came up.

Raging
rouge screams with a tremulous beep.

Surreal
Conceal
Unable
to strike the star lead role in a Bollywood film deal.

Unsullied arrived in a cumulus cloud stricken by a thunderous compulsion to wail.

Esther didn’t hear the bond lust, lilted scream.
Memory hazed -by two fat ladies at gate number 8.
Efforts disarmed – the inability to count down to the primal odd.

Nebulous chlorophyll masked her mouth. Envy immobilised to an unrecalled dream.

 

Innocents smile swinging on tyres.

Freddie Kruger caught in a static slumberless nightmare  loses credibility to a sterile clinic

Action paralysing every unconscious scene.

Stratham, London. the  Knight defends to keep watch.

Both stumble upon a tidy little room – 1970’s style. No disco defibrillator harmonizing jolts to the melody of

‘ Staying alive ‘

Old granny hoovers up flowers choking on an ivy patterned carpet.

Mist of lavender lingers.

This bitch knows how to spray.

Don’t mess with this O.G.

Peppered, seasoned hair, non-linear lines carve out a facial narrative.

Don’t be fooled by this kungfu hoe.

Inebriated illiterate desensitized to her strategy in a game of cruel Cluedo.

It’s all so normal. It’s life, you know…..

 

Scissors aimed

ready

to

stab

a beating heart

 

Positioned in foetal

Sucked out the uterus.

 

Pro-choice.

Pro voice.

Pro-life.

Pro midwife.

Tall walls

Bricks bolster the Illusion of affairs in order.

Fiercely scrutinized is the woman who maps out her own destiny – navigates the boundaries that her ideas can afford her.

Quality control.
The NHS paid for a private eye.

Two signatures deemed sufficient to see her through the hours of her sobering silence.

Shameless in her deflowered disguise.

Ginger nuts, unsavoury tufts.

No, this wasn’t her nine month due – no ice cubes for killing in the name of freedom to govern her own vessel.

No need for pro-life Stepford wives lies.

Sins anoint.
Sins accumulate.

Where would our saints stand without a dissident at hand?

Society sits down, protest proudly.
Part the veil of clouds
Peer piously downwards,

ready to strike thunderbolts of judgement.

 

Rain down booming terror tactics.
Esther cares not for their gospel band.
Society sips, exhaling wafts of fair trade Ivory coast coffee beans.
Privilege smells of a modern holocaust of starving babies in bony mothers arms.

Who said any of these women consented to consummate?
Penetrative obedience to the phallic statues erected in morning glory psalms.

Civilized society!

What if God was one of us?

a scripture in the making.-

Touch and kiss the sky.

Would he become the true reflection we see, when we catch ourselves about to exhale the final breathe before we die?

Fantasies always signed off with a silver lining and promises of a rainbow.

Reality is cold,

winter serves a plateau of ice.
Frigid flowers are frozen in angst
Shatter like glass.
Rebel against their reproductive nature.
Air.
breathe.
One full gasp.

If only a mere raspy rant leaves on its depart.
It’s either them or an urban jungle of homo sapiens collecting another free day ride.

Ready to infect ignorance on every global ocean that has shows we all go out at low tide.

Rebirth!

JUST

ICE.

Everybody’s got to hear the shit on FM willows call!

Stumped hand makes it arduous to know what to write about.

A muse in Patron

It don’t matter how many selfies you take.

What matters is if you can accept your own mirror reflection.

No time to flinch.

No time to hesitate.

Free to stride across abundant valleys conjured by a sweeping imagination.

God, when she weeps!

I collect her tears.

Covertly

Thankful for the martyr,

My patron muse.

Crystallized an abundant array of gifts .

Perhaps it is a silhouette…

Perhaps it is a rainbow’s smile illuminating intrinsic hues…

These words could reveal Science’s stuttering staccato voicing his love for nature.

For all her might

For all her brute

Which one is Beauty?

Which is Art?

What if you believed the sky is indeed blue?

Shrouded Sun Screen

*photo credit Francesca Woodman, Space2, Providence, Rhode Island, 1977, © George and Betty Woodman*

‘Always wear sunscreen’ – comes from a song.

Wisest life advice I’ve ever heard?

‘Don’t read beauty magazines they will only make you feel ugly. ‘

Quoting like I’m toting.

Screens -Scenes. Teams. Streams.

Rhyme it out until I get an inspiration to scream.

I Love screens. What to watch?

 I never wore sunscreen.

I went under the artificial tan beams when I hit the isle of  Blighty.

Cancer, I probably have.

The world is full of it. Boasting in its insidious arrogant fashion.

We can’t slip away from this malady.

Life is a parody.

Stage screens. Projections. People hustling and bustling about in the form of shadows.

Cue: Audio – people chattering, laughing, Christmas jingles pop out like a pack of Pringles.

‘Once you pop you can’t stop’

Stream of consciousness interrupted by my very own human Bee.

How you doing ? – A total Joey from the series ‘friends’.

Beware of enemies posing as your bros and sisters. Cut out cardboard fake, one-dimensional pranksters

inanimate.

Politics have got me in the corner of a boxing ring, cutting teeth on my mouthguard.

Betray my thoughts and beliefs when I mention the pantomime that is crawling underneath the flesh of America’s skin.

I don’t want to share any posts on this farce. Spread more hate and give more time to something that makes me want to spew my guts out.

Angry on behalf of all that is left of humanity.

The stupidity line is growing longer than the start of the poverty sign.

One screen dividing the people and oh wait they are all in the same queue.

Branded – I can’t stand it.

Fuck Kim K and K west and all the KKK’s and the rest of the Hollywood bandit Muppet crew in folly land with extra zest.

All lives matter. Seriously?

I’m about ready to pack my bag with the bare necessities. Head out to the jungle and live life with my true fellow earthlings.

If I could grow fur, I wouldn’t need sunscreen.

What the hell are we humans even doing here when we can’t even adapt or evolve in our natural surroundings?

Destroy, conquer, divide- it’s a woeful stuttering thought.

Soon we will be paying for the air we breathe.

“Water is not a basic human right” Just a thought from Nestle.

Stop polluting what was given to us.

Stop changing the screen to the scenery you want the commoners to see.

We are dying.

Hairdresser fed up of listening to other people moan. She applies for a job to treat people in a morgue.

Silence.

Now you listen to me!

We all need to talk even if it is behind a screen – a mask.

I’d rather bleed from my eyes than cover my true feelings, opinions, and thoughts.

People can laugh. I don’t care.

Scan my soul  and I will pass every scripture criteria to go to anyone of your chosen heavens.

Arrogant?

Perhaps.

I reflect what I see in others. We are but mirrors of another.

Despise me?    Something inside me resonates with you. What are you hiding?

Drawn to me?    remove the smokescreen – brave soldier-admits and refuses to deny that we all share common dreams,

feel similar emotions.

Have days when it’s all commotion after commotion.

I scream – a throwback to the bairn I never intended to wean.

Heartless – that would mean I am aimless.

I’ve had my eye on a spot. That takes more heart and commitment than spouting out hateful, denounced rhetoric.

Chloridic.

Grief- ridden, sick chick.

She should have grabbed the knife.

She should have locked the door.

She should have put more clothes on.

She should have done the cha- cha- cha.

Would it have saved her?

Polo – life mint- raspy breath in need of sprightly death.

It’s fun to dream. It’s even better to live it.

Wear sunscreen?

Protection –  duty to our children- the ones who love us.

I say be reckless -not with others hearts- but be a part of the movement to dine with the  Ming dynasty, hovering somewhere above, a local art museum, in some loco town down in  Acapulco.

The song I was on about when my thoughts were rambling.

These are my words

She’s must be  a fraud. Disconnected to this world

a caricature of a  human.

 

An imposter  civilian of society – a living entity to her dismay incapacited  to disappear

permanently.

 

always chased  back in this race -the rush

It’s  marathon pace she detests 

 

Ravenous

Cream crackered

Loafin about

 

The  First in line to devour   the  despo’s discarded crusts.

Her washed out  hat mirrors

Her bottom lip

waxen

Scrutinizing the clouds wafting by.

 

Human puppets strung up

Wooden  ideals

Generic.

Stereo types

 

 

A

Mother

A woman

A lover

A thinker

A doe-or,

A reason to  carry on the charade?

 

 

Compelled by the  hypnotic pull pulsating with a love song  serenading  the humanity of  heart.

Dementia -merely human.

“I think that the only reason people hold onto memories so tight for so long is because memories are the only things that don’t change, even when people change..”   Unknown

This is a post that I  have wanted to write  for some time but my heart is still raw with pain. I’m comfortably numb as the song goes . No words I write can do justice to what this illness does to people we love.

We have had the plague

Chicken pox

Aids and HIV

Cancer.

The new cowboy in town in Dementia.

He has all the traits of the best cowboy in town

  • A steady hand

  • A look that says so much but not something you can be sure what it is thinking

  • It is true to it’s word

  •  It takes Pride in his work

  • A true perfectionist 

It doesn’t mind who it  consumes and takes out it the process.

This year DEMENTIA AWARENESS WEEK May 15-21  focuses on confronting your fears about Dementia.

The Alzheimers society is reaching out to give you support and information. You don’t have to fight this alone.  REACH OUT

I found this  – it captures how I feel whenever I see my Gran  and how helpless I feel.

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I’m going to show you some pictures of someone who has loved me for a long time.

But first

I must close my eyes

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AGE : 15.

STATE: awake

LOCATION : Kitchen ( Gran’s home ) South Africa

Gran comes shuffling in to the kitchen

“Que ce qui pas?

“Can’t sleep”

“I will make you a camomile tea” in her French accent .

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She spent a lot of time and money putting me in rehabs and looking after me when I was growing up.

I am possibly the  first and only person to have seen my Gran cry  that I know of — I’m not proud but honoured she trusted in me.

AGE:18 years

STATE:  possibly drunk or hung over

LOCATION: Gran’s Bedroom France

Grandpa was  not doing well. My Gran broke down.

All I could do was hold her.

She knew Cancer and Chemo  was going to be the   un-doing of him.

 He still tried to look after his ‘Trois filles’ ( me, Mom and Gran) until his last breath.

The greatest love affair ever!  ❤

What a pair they made.

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Grandpa got a massive contract with Loreal in the 1950′ -1960’s . He was the main sales rep for promoting the  Loreal brand  in Africa.

They travelled everywhere

Madagascar

Zimbabwe

South Africa

to name a few.

Gran had spent most of her life travelling. Her father was a general in the army. Her step father some sort of captain and she spent a few years in the cote de ivory and other places.

They had 6 children together

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And two other sons who I don’t have pictures of. She was and still is the queen of the family.

So much elegance ,grace and charm. She suffered a lot of heart ache in her life. Lost love, her mother was jealous of her as were her two step sisters.

She was kicked out of her home when she was 16 years old and pregnant. She went on to become a femme de menage and a beautician to survive the streets of Paris..

When she met my grandfather she never had to worry about love or  money again. Even when he passed on  from Cancer. Her twin sons and my own mother  still  after her.

The relationship she had with my mother was unbreakable- even now. My Gran  still demands my mothers time and is happier when she has her to herself.

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This last picture was taken in 2012 -four years ago.  My Gran’s 79 th birthday

She loves to laugh and is still a social butterfly just like my Bella Bee-

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Alzheimers and Dementia does not discriminate.

A cold and bitter night in the U.K..

 The Wind screeched out  a name

A lady manages to fumble with the keys to a door and lets herself out. 

Where is she going?

No shoes,

a  flash of car lights, 

 Great big BULGING eyes

FLAP ,FLAP

 a night gown whips around the lady’s ankles 

She couldn’t live on her own any more. She was find walking the streets in her night clothes, by her carer ,at the time on the coldest night the U.K. had in 2013.

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Gran in her new home – the first of three new care homes she would move to until the present.

This was a place with bells and whistles on. It was like a 5 ***** hotel.

In the few months she stayed here.

She was found sat in bed  drowning in her own piss.

She had spread faeces all over the walls and under her nails.

The home said she was too much trouble.

Funny, they didn’t have a problem with taking our families money for the few months she was there.

New home – two days until Gran’s 80th. Her twin sons came out to surprise her

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The day my Aunt died of lung cancer . My Mom got a call from her care home to say Granhad broken her hip. She spent 12 days in a normal hospital ward.. Always calling out. Neglected.

WAS THIS WHAT SHE SAW?

We thought we were going to lose her.

Three nurses,

A grand daughter,

A daughter.

a sedative

2 -3 hours

a struggle

Another sedative

FEAR

SCREAMS

SWEAT

PORES

TEETH EXPOSED – FERAL

EARS POUNDING

THIS SOUND      – my idea of Dementia raging  in audio.

She couldn’t speak but she could scream and lash out.

 I don’t  think I slept for 2 days after that event.

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Christmas 2009.

Gran  in hospital . The last time she would ever walk

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Gran loved to walk

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Gran will never walk again.

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She had to be moved to another  home that could meet her needs. No fancy hotel .

Gran’s 81st birthday

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I go see my Gran every week with my Mom. I take my daughter. I don’t want her to forget my Gran.

She went from speaking two languages, walking, laughing, taking pride in her appearance to this person.

To being a person who would blanche if she knew what she was like now.

Maybe she does and that is what makes her so angry still. 12728922_10206394372312168_9205953428105637055_n

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Yes, she screams and she can’t talk and she scares me sometimes because I don’t know what to do to help her; but she is still my Gran and she has a mental illness. 

IT IS NOT HER FAULT!

Her home she lives in now have really put quality over quantity. It;s not a show home -it is a home -home -check out  ROBERTS TOWN CARE HOME FB PAGE  .

The only people who have got my Gran to a place in her illness where she is  probably going to be able  to come to my wedding ceremony in June.

May is# MAKE MAY PURPLE   month.

Across the world May is the month for creating mental health awareness.

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Women of Ukraine

*8th March women’s international day 2022*

Under a senseless war you are not as noticed as your insight ..

Know that female propaganda protestation is a liberation .Maternal is a revolution

Starting with faith not doubt .

Radical against the martial law

notice

reveal your beliefs with the strength of your education

Never forget you have a duty to stand up .
Voice your opinions.. you are part of your nation.

Even when the patriarchy has you under a thumb.

It’s a parody

A caricature

Putin
employed mercenaries to pluck his monoborw.

Inhabit a cold continent to suit his Napoleon Bonaparte with fashionless gout.

He’s tied up , suited & booted mannerisms to strangle the patriots to go without..

A Siberian exile

An excuse to out those who’ve already come out.

No shame , my women …

Evil will lose this small man’s willy , I believe without a doubt 😏.

International women’s day

Ukraine
Russia we stand as our tribe .
We will win with every gender with clout.

Choice has always and forever.

-Candor, heart spilling starch tumble dry fresh.

Ominous eyes on stalks can feel the tearing of flesh.

Lobster bisque – feel the pain- rubbing eczema flakes in the mesh.

Motivational mantras praying for imaginative depth.

A leap of faith from a dark quarry,   novels unwrap intoxicating pages saturated in meth.

White suits, red suits, black suits – jokester howls in lunatic tongue at his procurement of all laughter.

Voiceless, misunderstood, invisible  swan still morbid, unhappily ever after.

Death scents not in lavender bursts, clashes with stale tobacco.

Steven Hawkins robot voice stuck in a stench of staccato.

Future anxiety.

Past Regrets.

  Present lives in the moment -startlingly clear.

Blink and the eyes will miss it. Shut off all senses and lose the rest of the steer.

Grace be mine!

  Ego ride away on a horse of jaded divine.

Little Mockingjay prepares Dame to release her idealized body preconceptions. Babies speak in benign.

Selfish task force. Love to bind a new union.

Born addicted –   a chance encounter for a significant sibling reunion.

Selfish, marred acts of those who seek to atone for sins of Greed.

The world’s a lot smaller, fewer cards.

Time to make new memories in clear waters running with creed.

Tall orders,   cats mewling, and choleric baby withdraws from life’s order.

What a sappy mess they make.

  Second chances don’t come with a promise.

Each soul has its own border.

The ring of education – judicators,  over boil in an over timed pressure cooker.

Hungry students ready to whore out the possibility they carry the pearl.

Send out for the Hookers booker.

Close these scriptures. War wages paid out in illness.

 Mind cavernous in an unresolved mess.

Sales galore – glorified slave stitched clothing for all.

Moral urges to make do with a Makeshift dress.

Recycle on thought- careless whisper – the banana flavored condom went in the wrong bin.

Karmic balance.

Next time buy the toilet freshener with the least amount of Carcinogenic properties within.

The future promise of a surge in over priced goods.

Planning for this new hood smacks of a drugged reality.

Low suspension thoughts, feelings soar through the milky way- lost in an energy of fatality.

Maternally skinny – nourished on a liquid diet, uppers, downers and 7 0f your five a day.

recoil in horror for the day expectant ghoul comes from it’s decided gestational incubation from its hostess.

Who deserves to pay?

A hike up in rent for turning out disabled and bent or, a life staring into the consequences of hitching up an unhemed skirt?

Murderous plot.

Rumors of have not. Denial that life belongs under flowers in stalks covered with dirt.

There is always a choice, Never a right time to get to perfection.

One decision to make.  God willing, the next messiah is a fruitful resurrection.

Travel apartheid

The darkest continent claims

Red card racism arrests flight of imaginary motion.

Air control. Trafficking sentient beings.

Venomous vendors plugging PC ( dis) respectful tests

Elevating inflation of people’s final destinations

Lost to incubation .

Ineffectual accusions of discrimation .

A part from hatred , what is the solution?

People are racist – black against a white supremist nation?

Apartheid of resources brought to a halt

Red light district with too many needles to purify our patriotic precious colts.

Threatening ethnic cleansing . A modern day global

HIV

no person can stereotype to one culture – bacteria spreads without copulation.

Endemic.

Pandemic.

A matriaxy of mistakes

Dividing the world to another war philosophy.

Peace stammers to another halt.

( word prompt ‘travel apartheid) Thank you to my good writer frirnd for being my muse just by a small conversation.

Master of my fate?

What makes you anxious? – the cocoon asked .

Immediate response ?
I want to run away .

The cotton wool opportunity of turning into some thing I’ve never been fills me a desire to run.

I’ve always wanted to fly!
Darwinite if it means i can feel fire
In my belly
Leave behind the sycophants of past.

Presented with the discomfort before the freedom installs a stony face

A medusa

Unjustified punishment.

I finally replied: I want to run from your question because the master of my own fate made me question why I didn’t say I’m the master of my destiny

I sat on the toilet waiting for an answer

A tinkle

A brainwave to collide with my why.