I can’t put roots down in a home that feels alien to me. I blank out my world. I dread the familiar haunting of this abode called my home.
How it represses me and chokes me. Yet,I come back to it like a castrated casualty of Love’s wars. Conditioned to part my lips for misery….
Misery is the strangest bedfellow.
Assumes multiple faces.
Finds solace in one;
then toys the mind into trickery.
Absolute in believing the worst.
The quest for inner happiness is insatiable.
Risqué life impulses
hover to the centre;
reflective to reveal the self
Truth becomes lethargic to express.
Denial in a tangible form is easy to confront.
Fluid is Something
a perpetual change in reason or emotion won’t be summoned into entertaining with a mere appearance.
Who really has it together?
The innocents shake up this universe.
People’s culpability to surprise succeeds in frequent currents.
Inner warfare barely contains the raw diet of pain -self-inflicted.
faltering when an impromptu glimpse outlines Guilt slack at the shoulders.
How to do better?
How do we balance every eventuality?
From the withstanding of spirit, affection, carefree joie de vivre?
to never waiver to out compromise sacred boundaries.
A crave to fly
Be at liberty to roam and murmurate with free agenda.
Yet acknowledge the need for the skies and physics reminder of my limits.
To reveal the divine order that is Nature.
Uncomplicated preambles, snapshots of existence;
staggering through the wilderness, a heart-
beating… though composed of wood.
Daedalic to the fracas of life.
Living in a belly-fighting off bacteria
Begging other intelligence to disembowel us
Hatred’s tsunanima floods our irrigation system of morals.
No lives matter.Nazi’s aren’t the only few crazier than Mercuries Mad Hatter.
Everyone has an opinion.
Every Judy thinks they are entitled to a Punch – no need to be drunk.
infers we can’t learn violence is a domino effect.
Cause and effect
ripples from skidding stones.
Balance in humanity
artifially inseminated tinnitus
is the reality.
We look to archaic verse in the Testament that
‘ an eye for an eye’
is as natural as witnessing two beasts bin active fornication being violated.
Our emotions show us we are alive.
We feel we must feel — we have to feel to carry a vigil of hope
Godless goddess installed a program of free will.
A Divine sign?
Why not take back this privilege?
Why make n imperfect world full of sublime, then lure us out with the promise of sporadic sunshine?
Caters to the needs of every breather, every ecosystem.
No need for adulterated theft.
God is a Narcissist.
Why would someone with such power sit back and watch us destroy one another?
Fuck the lies, the parables,
Jesus dying for our sins?
His resurrection dragged through centuries of blasphemous leaders chanting idolific hymn.
In the name of Ignoratious Barkus Dogma.
Religion – organised to control the masses
Sniff out to snuff out the submissive odour- of terrorism.
fists connecting with human bodies
Unlicenced rifles blasting into chunks of beasts flesh.
Who is right?
We’re in a goblins game lost in a maze
They have the eduction to translate to us
cuts to every department.
This is a prison.
When Suicide is a man’s motive to rise to the heavens and receive a reprisal.
Then it is a given.
God is a narcissist.
Jesus was a shoddy carpenter. Check out my gate.
A whore mopping up brows is the only tangible part of this story I find plausible.
Give me a sign!
suffering to this extent is for an entity pantomime.
A gathering On Mount Olympus of Enlightened gods who never miss an episode of planet earth.
Darkness reveals a screen
A dismal form of the masses. These pupils— dilated, babble out words of freedom
Freedom to insult ,
Freedom to obliterate ,
Freedom to disfigure,
Freedom to impregnate,
Freedom to live in contempt.
A society bloated, heaving up piles of excess.
Anarchy doesn’t mean terrorisation.
Revolution is for the mighty hearts.
Revolution is for a shift in consciousness from inequality for the many in parts.
We all deserve to be on the earth offender register.
Why do we obey ungovernable laws ?
We take our grievances into our own hands.
How can there be justice?
When her namesake fails us with a well-practised pose of inverted corruption?
Born in navigation mode,
We’re grappling at pockets of hope to Trust in humanity.
Live by your true North
Live by your inherent moral compass .
Especially if life decrees a sentence of physical deformity;
Don’t look to the sky for an answer.
Don’t look to a man with free words dribbling down his jumper.
Don’t tear down statues that can’t fight back.
There is no sense in joining hands with this vicious pack.
We all have it wrong.
Every. Single. One. Of. Us.
God is a narcissist
Hidden behind every face with a stoic sense of entitlement
Knitted together from years of oppressive Dogma
Teaching Seers to
Oversight at what a plight this method of living truly is.
We all need to hang.
Hang our heads in shame.
Cut out my heart
See it bleed
Let it bleed …
examine its appearance
understand there is no difference –
we come into the world.
We all rely on another hand for our first feed.
Then we are taught to have a plan B.
Alone, I’m ready to denounce my mammalian side, take my chances, swim against the tide of sick oceans in one last effort to truly be free
Free from what?
Free from hate,
Free from Rhetoric verse spoken lost to a lingering scent of horse manure.
I denounce my own and seek a new home on the basis-I don’t recognize my own kind.
I don’t see a common interest
A goal –
All I see is another foe.
I choke on these words.
Why can’t we learn
I could go on
We have history books showing our true face in good faith.
Nothing is censored.
The age of enlightenment has turned into the stagnant pregnancy of disillusionment.
God is a Narcissist.
Mrs. Tersable had the patience of Hades with a lengthy dose of blue ball build up syndrome.
Beans on toast, eaten straight out of a tin can – this is not how she was used to living, outside of her comfort zone.
She wore wooly jumpers to cover the razor sharp teeth piercing through her very own flesh.
She was so gifted in signing off with a ‘kiss kiss’ and a ‘mwah mwah’– tres AbFab darling
BBC Nigella’s best Italian dish.
Unfortunate event, she was the kind of lady who had to learn how to suck the devil’s cock. Have her ass smacked and molded into a fine knight mare.
The tragedy in her quest to rise to power in a Patriarchal society took a heavy blow on a high voltage setting ,following a trail to the bully matriarch beatbox competition at ye olde fayre.
She rose in stature until she hit her own glass ceiling – a rose always needs to be pruned. All flowers, eventually, lose their fragrance and bloom.
Every season there will always be another eager seedling waiting to come out and steal her once-signature odorous perfume.
It’s a lamentable world we live in when the people who are meant to be teachers and mentors,
refuse to listen to their own apprentice or student who listens , then questions the station ranked above.
Not all students climb this far to then curtsey disabled in fear, at one vicious bark – all the way on the Yorkshire moors.
What does this say about us as parents, role models, teachers when we refuse to admit our own errors?
We pinch our noses to avoid inhaling one whiff of humble pie, no one saw you order a Miss Hannigan chaser.
An associate of those benefit drunks with the DT tremors?
Feedback at any age,gender ,role or title is crucial to evidence your presence in eternal life learning.
Mistakes are a necessary jigsaw piece to conclude this game.
It’s not so much what we don’t say as to how we say it.
Oops, maybe that 15-year-old child shouldn’t have appeared to be marking that essay on the subject of learning to ‘look kept while she is on the game- earning’.
Bullies come in a plethora of forms – the ones with the sweetest touch can turn on a person like a stye in the eye.
Manic and wide-eyed .
‘Attention , we now introduce you to Sir werewolf faint heart . ‘
His title gives him permission to tear down the fourth wall but he promptly decides to use off stage to indicate he has his role – his own part.
So changeable – so constant.
If it weren’t for experimental folk, you might believe that the very word had been a word that ‘phantasmagoria -the shouting star’ ,hurtled down to you from a startling height in a –
can you picture it?
A cosmic sky.
Oh, how some serfs do like a good old-fashioned backdrop.
Kitchen sink drama – ironing and puffing a cig so soon after a hideous operation tumor larynx op.
I don’t mind subjective commentary .
Political and social change is in a state of osmosis.
Where is she hiding ? be a darling and throw us an adlib objective objection – based on some factual,theoretical documentary.
Ego hypothetically propositioned and the recent report is he is officially unwounded.
Id is feeling indulgently charitable.
Super ego is insulted on behalf of all the marginalized it chooses to write about.
Prepared to work with all senses engaged, ready to gain insight and to ‘show and tell’ how flawed this world truly is .
Just because it says something black on white – doesn’t mean it’s exempt from giving you a bad case of colonic irrigation ,peppered doubt.
The biggest bullies are the usual suspect atypical members – they all have a hidden agenda.
Keep your cool and refuse to cower from the tirade of abuse screamed down the cord of a retro style, dial-up telephone – switch on to radio channel smoothie blender.
Only you can be your greatest ally and defender.
you could go on one hell of a bender.
Never been an option for the author who has fought off more heated bitches in duplicitous organizations with a questionable gender.
*Inspired by good old fashioned rotten to the core bullies sitting in apple trees *