Blog Archives
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

A girl’s introspection reflection
She lived a life of colour.
She lived a life of dull.
Throughout her life, she learned
That her desire for instant thrills
Having seen her become a woman who is miraculously
still alive!
Not a corpse waiting for her family to visit her grave mourning what life dispensed.
If her spirit inspired her desire to live as a dissident against the traditionalist life of her own free will.
10 days she was in a coma.
Today, she is alive and her perspective has changed on time,
on her ability to process the strength
She needs to draw upon less selfishness
to make life joyful for the ones who taught her that it’s okay to forget,
It’s okay to lose her way,
It’s all okay,
even when
She decides to instil what her children will impart
whether they take her advice seriously… Or on a whim.
I rise
I rise because I now see I am strong
I weep for the girl who once believed I was wrong,
Because others didn’t understand I was born with this face
It’s not because of my race.
I don’t have William fish syndrome.
I’m a woman with a heart as vast as the seven seas
The cost of investing in wasting time on vapid entities,
Taught me a lesson
Taught me how to rise up session after session.
I rise because I know I get it wrong, I admit!
I no longer weep for the girl I once was
For if it were the devil’s tears that once made me smile
Temporarily,
Now I know I am a woman who seeks to live a life more worthwhile.
Nature is immortal
*Image prompt*
Swinging beneath the oak tree
I hear the tinkle of her laughter
I feel the breeze light
Peek through the tops of branches, undiluted sunshine ☀️flashes
it’s eyes looks down upon me.
Free,
In awe,
The sight of the flowers so striking
I remember them so vividly.
My gaze momentarily suspended
My heart
beats blessed to be in this moment.
Mother and child together preserved in this portrait
My memory states nature is immortal for eternity.
No sense no flame
*Unedited stream of consciousness writing with an image prompt.
The hand in the shadows inarticulated all senses. It Dims all potential – intertwined s all 5 fingers into a Complicated riddle.
Sight blurred by over analysing her inner Self-perception -imagination distorted in the darkness the eyes of truth remain hidden.
A Taste so tainted by past memories seemingly nothing to gain
A gluttonous child cavedweller who hid from the rain Afraid to enjoy the lingering passion behind a lover’s kiss a foreign delicacy
Gulped down chunks of fear -resistance -a refusal to taste the smacking licks of lips from a distant pain
Sounds of brawling.
Tortured screams left her to scramble away – hidden humming a discordant tune- unharmonised to the language used by the normal folk those who socialised under the sunshine day after day
Touched by a love so fiercely so devout.
Terror aroused she turned her face away from one name. He bathed her in the moonlight – she was stuck in her ways – tucked away in her self made dark haze.
Scent took leave of all senses – seasoned impurities infiltrated her brain. Refusal to inhale life -to contemplate risking one day. Left her bound by ignorance -alone in an abyss – people forgot she had lived -had been given a name.
If only she had grabbed hold of the hand holding what appeared to be a flame risk would be her new life-giver. Her greatest achievement to feel the pleasure of the suns rays
Image prompt challenge
Societey’s Ills
Sitting with a cup in me hand,rattling my pennies. The wind cuts through my salvation army coat – I feel bare.
Half an hour until the big brother brigade does their rounds, to come clear off the debris of me, offending society, with my appearance of failure. Glasses fixed on nose bridges to hide poverty’s despicable, shining glare.
It wasn’t meant to get to this point. I had a home, a family. Believe me, I was a carer. That was many years ago.
I let my parents down. They was ill. They fought a lot. Dyspraxia and Alzheimers is a blinding, rallied up bull shit way to steer 30 years of love straight out the front door with a forceful blow.
Pa was getting violent he couldn’t help it – it was the frustration. The illness works that way . Too much protein in the brain ,the doctor says.
I don’t care much for protein. I just wanted him to get the right meds, to make him the man who he used to be
I came home from school one day and the living room had been touched by pa’s hard handed caress.
‘Put ya fecking glasses on – you thick cow. Turn them around. ‘ere give them to me I’ll show you how.’
Ma was crying. Her perception was off the wire – crazy. Dad went to put on me ma’s glasses and stopped dead in his tracks.
He had forgotten why he was standing next to Ma- and lashed out – his moves were not shady but he was hazy.
I couldn’t watch them do this any longer. I had to get out. I wished to start a new life. 16 – find a home I could call me own, addle, get a job and be Miss independent. carefree,sipping on splendour.
I found me a job – I was smart not like them other lasses, herded in like cattle, branded with the letter P. Marked,dotted, scarred, scared, drugged – too skinny to be called slender.
I started washing up pots,owt I could do. I needed a step to reach them. They were that big. I was that short. The gaffer he was a bit of twocker- A Tyke.
He should have been wooing his guests instead of fondling me tits ,grabbing me ass and jerking off with the hand he vowed to his wife to stay faithful with.
I couldn’t take that shit no more. I was no whore. I suppose I could have called me Ma and Pa
I said No. Loud and clear.
Decibels reverberating – Tin Tin like. I was barking mad.
Hotel guests, eating their warm croissants, couldn’t ignore the tone – it was him that had set that bar.
Didn’t even get me wages. Couldn’t pay me rent. I only had a room but it was my home. A place none could bother me. I could come home kickoff me shoes and read and chill.
Be at peace.
That were a few years now. Things change. Time never stops. Drugs, alcohol, overdoses, hospital beds.
None of it worked. I just got older, street smart, I was now living amongst wild, underfed , hope-starved geese.
No place to shower, they say it takes 3 seconds to make an impression on someone. No jobs – the only job I could get was the hardest graft I ever did.
Squatting on the cobbles and begging for scraps of bread.
Bread,
dough,
blast me to oblivion ,
fresh like a baguette- warm ,baked.
I was safer in the streets than I was in a seedy local pub.
The pervading scent emanating from these places was the end of hope and that was my biggest dread. I’d rather be underground dead.
I got in with some Christian volunteers – at first, I was in tears. I had Hope, but I had lost faith.
Pa, he had gone into a state care home and Ma? well, she had a stroke and I don’t know. It just got harder to think of going back. Mind, it was me guilt.
At first, it felt like they were recruiting me for their cult. I knew there is no God. I had seen what mercy truly looked like. Bleak. a dying art.
I got attacked one night,got meself in a right snicket. I know I wasn’t to blame. Wrong place, wrong time, could have happened to anyone.
It was me.
Weeks went by , started feeling nauseous, went to A&E – they confirmed what I knew.I was up the duff.
I knew I had to reach out – me and my child depart ? never crossed my mind -not even from the start.
9 months passed . The SS got involved – my baby was honey coloured hair and blue eyed. A prize catch ,a tick off the adoption incentive target list.
I didn’t stand a chance. They convinced me she’d be better off in another one’s arms.
That toppled me, I came down like a house of cards. Not original but tell it like it is, Bards.
I started living in shared accommodation.Nice people, life been shit. We all make choices – doesn’t make us bad people,right?
I lost the plot, forgot my goals- to become a suited and booted member of society. I had my mobile phone I got given to me by the charity.
I whip it out. I got a text.
what’s app – it’s free.
Overweening Lady, with the fine, make up on and pretty, salon styled hair and the sparkly engagement ring. Don’t look at me like that and stare.
Is it so wrong to have a phone and live on the street off and on ? I ain’t got no one to marry me.
” What prompted this stream of consciousness is obviously the content. One of the themes of the play is centred around Homeless people. I saw a man – I presume was homeless the other day begging for my some money and he was texting with his phone. My first reaction was rather judgemental -so I started asking myself questions and this is the result. The register/style of speaking and writing I use is inspired by how some people in Yorkshire speak. “
64 responses to “Societey’s Ills”
Daisy! Happy New Year my friend. 🙂
First off, these observation of what you wrote in a stream of consciousness is absolutely incredible, powerfully & visual.
My eyes felt gripped by everything your words express and mean. Love this post.
Miss reading your work. Glad to be back home in the blog community. How’s you and your husband doing? Hope all is well, tell him I said hello. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
HAPPY NEW YEAR. I happily single and doing my thing. I’m doing my final year at uni- eek. I don’t seem to have time to blog as much. Miss your work to.. Will pop over – hope all is well with you? settled into your new home, I hope.
LikeLiked by 1 person
what??? Your single?? What happen? If you wish to want to talk to me about it.
Uni-eek? Wish you well. Everything is well now. My apologies for my long absence. My depression was kicking me. I’m much better now. The new home is great. 🙂
Daisy, if you need a friend to talk to…you know I’m always here to listen.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Long story. It’s what I wanted. I’m happier with my daughter and my cat and my mates. Sorry about your depression. Hope the new home had a help in lifting the black dog. Thanks for the support as always. I’, always surprised that it is the people with talent who end up being genuine with me. I’m sick of feeding into other peoples egos and feeling shit about myself. This year is about me! lol. Hugs to you and your partner.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Family is more important and you made a good decision. 🙂
I’m always there and try my best to help and support my friends. I know exactly what you mean about egos making other people feel sick and tiring.
Thank you…I’ll be sure to let my wife know. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I appreciate–and am inspired by–this on so many levels…thank you for sharing your generous spirit, introspection, creativity and humanity…so beautifully expressed! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh.. um thank you. I am passionate about causes /themes and issues close to my heart. It’s great to meet you..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love your writing. My life’s had a similar trajectory. Anorexia to near death in adolescence & early adulthood. Nearly had my baby taken from me by forced abortion which I managed to resist. Am trying to write a fictional memoir but don’t know where to start. Great to meet you dear Daisy
LikeLike
Hi Dina lovely to meet you. Eating disorders in my experience never really go away. They change and evolve and can be very cunning and sly. Have you thought about trying to write creative fictional writing? http://www.creativenonfiction.org/online-reading/what-creative-nonfiction
Sometimes the best place to start can be the middle, the end – whatever it takes to get you writing/typing. I think the most important thing is to get a draft down- no matter how rough. Your story will inspire others. xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love your style of writing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Eugenia. What a compliment. I always am blown away by these kinds of comments. x
LikeLiked by 1 person
You had me believing it was all true, Daisy. I tend to get involved with good stuff, and that I did here too. Can I quote some of it on my Voice posts? Thanks and relieved it’s not you!
LikeLike
Hi, Anne. I’m going to have a look at your voice posts. No, it is not me. lol. Thankfully- yeah ,I don’t mind you quoting some of my work as long as you use my real name and pseudonym – daisy Willows/ Natasha Sonia Bodley. 🙂 I hope that is okay. x
LikeLike
The very reason why I live in the room I call home today was because of checking into a homeless shelter. I got lucky as a veteran; most here only get a bed and a few hours a night to use the shelter. And I wonder about those people laid out in front of the Salvation Army at 14th and 7, wonder how similar their stories are..
A compelling read, needless to say. ☺
LikeLiked by 1 person
WOW! I want to challenge societies misconceptions of why people become and stay homeless. It isn’t just oh get a job , get a house’.
Thanks for sharing something- so personal with me. I’m in the rough stages of writing stage script. You are obviously under no obligation to say yes but I want to find out some of the challenges/ obstacles people have encountered whilst being classed as homeless / part homeless. I’d like to first personal accounts. If you interested in sharing a bit about your experience you can email me on daisyinthewillows@yahoo.co.uk. or I could come up with some questions and you can answer what you feel comfortable. I am passionate about subjects that deal with social change and social consciousness. Have a great day. Sorry, I’ve only just read this post . Everything you discuss would be anonymous. I’m just looking for a bit of insight.. Take care
LikeLiked by 1 person
will try to remember to email you after i get some rest. 😊 can’t say i have much to talk about, but hopefully it won’t hurt either (: thanks!
LikeLiked by 1 person
lol . no worries .It is me typing my thoughts out LOUD. 🙂
LikeLike
See even Robert love this one
I knew I wasn’t crazy
Crazy
LikeLiked by 2 people
Ha ha.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great flow, elegantly beautiful x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hello. Thanks for stopping by and giving some feedback. Much appreciated 😊😊😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on Art by Rob Goldstein and commented:
Splendid writing from Daisy in the Willows
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much Rob. Such an honour. 😊😊😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is good! You’ve got the tone….and the right edge to the language. This has promise!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s awesome feedback. It’s a work in progress. Thank you do much for taking the time to give Mr some feedback. 😊😊😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
This s beautiful
Very tight
Great flow
love the voice
Sheldon
LikeLiked by 2 people
Morning Sheldon, I am glad you mentioned the flow. It was something I thought I lost. Hope all is well.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Good morning to you
There wasn’t to me
I love it
That’s what happens to me
That why sometimes a poem can take me days to post
Sometimes they never get posted
Just step away from it
And come back and look at it again
it works for me
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sometimes that is the best way. It’s great to get so much feedback and sit with it for a while. Then come back at it with a fresh pair of eyes.
LikeLike
A powerful and inspiring post. Thank you for sharing it with us.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi. Thank you so much for your feedback. 😀 grinning like the Cheshire cat . ha ha!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lol. My pleasure. Be well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, you too.
LikeLike
good day daisy…something deep in you inspired for this post..and it came out very well….
LikeLike
Thank you. I have just been listening and observing a lot lately. Means a lot what you have to say 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
The voice, the emotion, just brilliant, Daisy…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh wow! Thank you so much. Coming from you that is some compliment. Have a great week x
LikeLiked by 1 person
xo!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wonder whose voice I read this in. So rich with imagery, sad but real. I like this Daisy. Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What do u mean? Thanks for such awesome feedback 😊😊😊😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
I read the story in another cockney voice in my head 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
ha ha! I suppose it could be cockney. Have a grand week 🙂
LikeLike
Ooo I liked that! Sad story, but told so well. Love reading in the accent! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
😊😊 thank you for reading and liking it xxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
My dear Daisy, I love the start of your story. Excellent stuff. Real feeling for real people. Write on, my friend. You had me sucked right in.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 Thank you. I was unsure of this piece – I’m glad you enjoyed it. Yeah, I’m kind of blushing. hope all is well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on wwwpalfitness.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hey Paul, Thank you 🙂
LikeLike
You’re welcome
LikeLiked by 1 person
Another fantastic post, Daisy! 🙂 I’ve begun a series about a teenage girl on the street, so this post spoke to me. 🙂 Wishing you a beautiful Sunday!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Brenda. Have you read the book ‘ A street cat named Bob’? here is the trailer for the movie. I intend to read anD watch the movie for research purposes 😀 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s13Fnj8LzD8&feature=share XXX Have a great day and a great week. Hope you will share some snippets of your series xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for the link. I’ll be checking it out. I haven’t read the book. Although I have begun a list of books to read. I have a thing for lists. 🙂 I’m actually posting the series on my blog. I lack the patience to hold onto them lol 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
brilliant I will have to have a read. I was told about this book -another of the 101 books I’ve yet to read which looks good I think it is based on some kind of true story- all stories are aren’t they? ha ha! https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1389703.The_Lady_In_The_Van
LikeLike
You should read this article on it – it was also made into a film. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/film/the-lady-in-the-van/alan-bennett-hay-interview/
LikeLike
Rather sad but most insightful. You have a great gift. Hugs. 💞💞
LikeLiked by 1 person
Babs! Thank you. It is sad and change is needed and there are new projects out in my community that approaches the whole homelessness situation in an empowering ,take self-responsibility kind of way. So, I am feeling rather inspired. Have a great Sunday. Look forward to reading one of your sonnets 🙂 if you up to writing one.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Good Going Luv. By now you will have my latest offering.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Woop! I’m on my way. 🙂
LikeLike
hey tash are you going gladstone on me? no i know . good piece
LikeLike
No, of course not John.:D ha ha! I’m alive and back. Catch up with you in a while. Thanks for the feedback 🙂
LikeLike
it will be all ya can mustard to ketchup to me tash. cos im very hyper
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha ha! funny! 😀
LikeLike
Fantastic writing Daisy. Gripping ❤❤
LikeLike
MY SUNSHINE! thanks hun. We need a pink skyline later! 😉 xxxx
LikeLiked by 1 person