Instinct them there eyes that sit on the side of your face
where your ears shoot up from the top of your head.
Primitive- does it have a capacity to learn?
What is instinct?
the ability to know if something is a good idea or bad?
Is it just leftovers from another former homo sapien – who didn’t get the Darwinian letter notifying us to change?
Second guess it –
Third time make a mess of it.
What about those who have been conditioned by torture?
How do they know if their instincts can guide them to shores of safety?
Mothers instincts – is it the same as caring?
The instinct to repeat the same mistake – short circuit -rewiring alert .
Instinct tells me I am fucking it up.
I lie typing furiously trying to have my way.
I paid to be happy and don’t tell me I’m wrong,
instinct tells me this already.
Inside there is a stubborn overgrown tree – happily rooted-
Oh what a character!
It takes over me. Seen those shows when a person is hypnotised?
Never been hypnotised but…. I can imagine that worst case scenario is wanting to do something or not wanting to do something but having this entertainer conjure me to do the opposite of what I want.
What I say I will make me happy.
The rules is I am in a theatre of sorts – being watched, performed on .
I’m paralyse, can’t move -yet still I get to see all my actions performed for all to see.
I’m compelled to just let it be.
I was born with an inherent instinct to destroy every opportunity to feel a laugh leave my throat or a smile find it’s way curving upwards.
what is in me?
Who put it inside me?
I was pulled out with forceps and a low tolerance for people –
Did I get put on the wrong planet?
was I a botched experiment from a distant galaxy that needed terminating?
Who in their right mind throws away happiness like a blossom tree losing her flowers in autumn?
I don’t have that much to give. I did at some point but…. now that seems like a far away – old shedded skin
Creativity comes from within.
Instinct compels me to sin and win
LittleBee I failed you…
Can’t finish this… it is glib.
I can’t forgive me.
I’m a monstrosity.
DOn’t say those words daisy or you will become what you think you are.
True but I’ve forgotten how to be I am , I are, I will ,I think…
Don’t know how to …….
I may not be anonymous
I’m predisposed to mostly white.
Paled by charming powder puffs
Under any paltry day or night.
I may not be anonymous
I may appear big, small heavy and then light.
one little line of chronic
then it’s down & up 1000s hillside slopes to cut the gluttonous lust.
It grows in fervour
Diminishes all care.
If time is money (Wutang)
then it’s wasted to card dealing chancers
who think it is fair in the twilight
to fight this addiction to an eating disorder.
Sizes me up
Rounds me in
Not time to feed but blanch Guts away to her final slaughter.
Why do I want to change my hues?
Or maybe these words are a whitewash of denial or a statement covering up a fat lie.
Never give up!
Nina sang it well: it’s a new dawn, a new day….
When you look at yourself straight on in the mirror – chant his name three times.
The Grim Reaper is more likely to pay a visit and say ‘wassup?
Thinking about all those folk who want to live. Don’t have a cat’s chance or a lucky clover to pray over.
Last night, life became mission impossible. If you read it – I’m free flowing this to say
Don’t give up.
Don’t give in.
When it feels like you are at the end of Hangman’s noose about to kick the bucket from under your feet
that’s the moment we’ve the opportunity to reveal our true soul’s pathos.
Don’t you think the cloaked hooded figure has a lot of soul collecting to get on with?
I’m not saying that what we feel at the time is an illusion.
I pointing out -change is the only constant
That can lead to desperate ,devastating confusion.
Inside – I’m trembling worrying , wondering. What am I gonna do? Can I do this?
Question after question more questions fogging up my third eye- it’s enough to make any mind spin.
Stop. Hammer time.
Warped sense of humour.
Enough to keep all the rattling bones and bolts inside me cast a glow over my demeanour.
Look around. You see a flower wilt or bloom inspite of his brethren humming out sad tunes.
That’s Life continuing in spite of all that strife.
One Seed.Of.Hope. Get through this second,hour, this evening.
Take the seed, germinate it, nurture it, feed it, love it , talk to it.
Take the time – make it thine.
Watch it grow into a mighty oak – proud and on display.
Seems impossible to define.
Plant it. Don’t throw it away.
Keep a hold of it. It may be the one thing that carries you over the struggle D-day line.
On the surface – flowers, trees, icebergs – all look fantastical – magical even.
Look below the surface. There is a formula – you can build on that too –
No magic. No miracles.
Approach thyself with an examining eye.
Make it your number one priority to get to know what makes you tick.
If heart’s Hope stops make it your priority to know where to go to get a battery replacement. Get it resuscitated.
Know what makes you well
Reach out to that alien.
Get out of that comfort zone.
Scream ,yell, type, don’t bottle it up .
We have the technology – make a call -pick the phone up.
We have a voice – use it. Listen..
Sweet melodic freedom – we’re the only ones with the unlock and escape from our own self made prison key.
Never give up.
Life gets difficult
Life gets complicated.
There is more to this space than a one-dimensional prism.
I know it’s scary – to feel caught up in that schism.
Pieces of the mind caving in -thoughts toppling over like being a Chilean miner being held hostage underground.
Two months of no light . A sorrowful plight.
It’s dark but you are still breathing. You may be the only one but time is not about to start giving in.
Chin up. Keep looking for a strategy.
An exit route.
Use that sombre time to recollect . Hell, soak up the dramaturgy.
We come into this world kicking, screaming, wondering, possibly even believing. We mustn’t give up unless time says ‘okay enough’.
So, I say go the way you came in . If it is not our time – fight with every muscle. All the nerve you can summon up.
Truth or dare?
I have truth spilling out of my aura like pennies falling into the slot machine- the one in working order.
Dare to have. slip on your shades if you have to – things might just get a little brighter.
You might levitate – feel lithe even a little lighter.
Don’t be afraid to succeed.
Don’t afraid to be happy.
You don’t need to go to the dentist to get your two front teeth divided so you can look like some Go Lucky Gappy.
Photo credit Francesca Woodman – White Socks, Providence, Rhode Island, 1976.
Maybe I’m not who I say am.
Maybe I’m too prised shut.
Im certainly not the man
More likened to a clam.
Plenty of fish to test my lack of faith.
Caught in the net-
Delivering me to an Ill designed fate.
Tag me with an aphrodisiac.
Swimming in the theatre room
Hang up my ten phalanges
To ward off the inner crowd.
Grains of sand obscure my funny elbow.
Morose in all affairs
Wander afar from the nudists-
They emulate all my common fears.
They are my foes.
Grains of sand.
A Stormy clap of hands.
Alone in this operation,
The agenda is to make sure I get by on an innuendo.
Fear to be me-
To let the tears show up my negativity.
Look for the silver lining…
Be happy or die trying.
This is a message in a bottle
Fish are borderline crying.
In yer face
Creative of my right palm.
Read in between the lines
I’m the maker of my own divine crime.