my wish is for no person to resonate with these words. Live happy for as long as those who help you negotiate happy *
Musing from a head disassociated from its heart ( insert arrow ).
A musing of a separation only the disillusioned would consider.. an Art.
Perhaps all I need is a cup of ‘Let’s go dutch’ English Tea..
To announce I miss my Teddy bear tea zen.
I always thought a broken heart would keep me writing ✍️.
Now whose woes are teasing ?
Now, I know that I’m not broken hearted 💔 ;
What keeps me from writing is a form of atrophy?
I’m hardly breathing …..
The highest treason.
I fold in .
My blush is as good as my spade ♠️.
My heart tastes like the finer cuts
strips off a Wilkinson’s razor blade.
There is a difference between a heart ❤️ and a spade ♠️.
The space between the dashes of our existence.
Just words & Numbers .
Won. Not pretty .
It was never to be.
The word –
I’m trying to do anything to keep my mind from falling apart,so I wrote this.
( I wrote this monologue to try to help me deal with today& something * crazy* that happened a couple of years ago).
If anyone reads it , thanks .
If not – a problem or a few words shared – is a problem halved..
MO – Maya’s husband and daughter to MIA
MAYA – mid 30/40’s mother and wife to Mo
MIA -young child-daughter
(MO lying on what could be a sunbed /hospital bed. Spotlight -Bright lights -glaring down on her. Darkness all around her)
MO: There’re so many ways I could start what happened that day, so many ways… Sometimes, I think the best way to start is at the end -the tubes down my throat, the experiments, the torture (beat) or at the middle: “You’re mad in the head, you are. Summit wrong with ya. We filmed it. Caught ya red-handed, silly bint”.
VOICES: What happened? She didn’t! I’m calling the cops.
MO:Then I think to start at the beginning but my mind -it struggles- it’s addled -it struggles to find an entry point that can start linearly if ya know what I mean. …
A beginning that will justify, lend a decorum of erm.. credibility for all those who were involved in a moment that changed Mo and Mia’s lives for… at least a few weeks.
I’ve never claimed I was perfect.. or do I wanna be. Always say..Well- not always, summit * I* say.It’s a motto -like something I’ve adopted as my own. Who doesn’t know the lyrics to Bob Marley’s Tune? (sings) I shot the sheriff but I didn’t shoot any deputy -ooooh ooooh ooooh. To get back to what I was on about. I’m not perfect, yeah. No mask ever is. I stick my hand up whenever I’ve gone wrong in my life. And I sure as hell will say when I’m not.
Them lot. *Them* next door. Neighbours supposed to be friendly like – not mine. They refused to take responsibility for the barrage of abuse on their part. Harassing me like I was the only one on the estate doing cuckoo shit, man.
They didn’t see me get abducted by them aliens -Truth: Illegal aliens.
They weren’t imprisoned by our laws. They didn’t want me to come to this world even when I begged them. Well, I could only blink. *They *could hear my thoughts. They knew I had been tossing a coin over the worth of my own life for many a year. The day it all kicked off, I was trying to be on my best behaviour- not screw things up like I usually do. It was a proper sunny day, I had my bikini on, Mo blew up the pool. ( laughs) it was a plastic one – it needed air. We sat in the garden. I had a few drinks and summit snapped in my head. I thought , ‘right I’m gonna get on the phone to my regular geezer and score me a hit’.
Mo comes into the kitchen knowing full well summin was up, so I just said my usual spiel and before he could answer, I flew out the door, and I ran over to *his* car. I turned around to go back to my house and there she was.
Number 1 -Miss neighbourhood watch or should I say Ms curtain twitcher filming me. Things had been building up in my head for a while, the pressure, my mind felt full of cotton wool most days.
I wasn’t happy. I didn’t think about it and before I knew it: Boom, the glass window -her glass window shattered and…I was holding this great big hunk of Yorkshire stone in my hand. It took both hands to hold it.
Shit hit the fan.Police sirens were whirring, Mo,” I’m gonna get Mia up to my your mams house”. They arrest me in front of her. She was crying. I was begging them to give Mo a chance to take her around the corner. Cos of Corona -like ,we had to wait for 5 hours to get me booked in.
My brain snapped in that cell. The police thought I had ADHD. I screamed for 4 hours. I was restrained by 5 police officers. I screamed until blood was coming out of my mouth.
The Crisis team was called and they said it wasn’t there ‘problem’. I’m well known to them -my social worker said- Well, I can’t remember.But everyone was passing the buck from one Flippin pole to the next. I got cautioned and was told by the copper to come back in a week. Next day- Mo went to work on the day shift; Mia well.. she was staying with my mom. And I knew I had enough to do it. Do it properly. I had read the manual, it might as well have been titled ‘How to escape Planet Earth’. It was informative. I bought it online.
I bought myself a one-way ticket to another realm. That was it for me. I followed every step of the manual and then I blacked. Found myself strapped to a bed with aliens looking down on me wearing spacesuits. It didn’t stop. The torture didn’t stop. I even started to pray to a God I don’t even believe in. It was hell.
I thought to myself. This is it. I screwed up again. Its never going to end. The strangest thing was I kept on seeing this image of my mom. I tried hard to keep the image of Mia and Mo in view but it was my Mom’s face that I could focus on.
One minute I was trapped in this spaceship and the next I opened my eyes and I saw all white, even the people and no they weren’t aliens with big eyes and scary faces, they were smiling and perfectly human just like you and me. I tried to move my head to the left and there on a table, I saw a picture of Mo, Mia and.. my mom. 11 days later Mo was allowed to check me back into a familiar place: Earth.
He was mad at me for disappearing like I did but soon after he hugged me and we had a right giggle about me trying to convince him I’d been abducted by Aliens. Cos of Corona it turns out that the aliens with their headgear and silver suits on were people. They weren’t aliens, I mean they were strangers to me but… they weren’t trying to suck out my brain: my thoughts, my feelings, you know? They weren’t trying to take my life
They were trying to save me.
It’s a funny life, innit?
If you took away my infidelity
Would you let me have my way?
If these words were flesh
Would you bury my bones
Dig up the grains of sand
Blow my spirit so the the people who could never say
The bones could never declare
For a day
Unless you said I was fair.
For a moment
An hour longer than you dared to muster
To declare I’m the loyal mare
I dare you to share
For another day might tame
The girl who cared.
Or are afraid to .. …
Everyone can feel like a
All it takes is a
Dose of creationist bacteria inciting
on grounds countering humanity.
Freedom shatters pedalling gamblers.
Cards spiral up.
Offers new found grip on this moment.
Cha cha amorous
Latin her body speaks.
Acquaint within ear shot of an organic pulse
Inertia rests in patchouli scented tomstones.
Nobody sheds dull
the skin held in chains invisible.
Everybody still ignorant to the body disappearing into Huxtable’s fable.
Iris shows off her pupils under natural sun light.
Rainbow replenishes chakras.
Illustrated by the refusal to keep a voice hidden
Saints need sinners. New mantra forwards a thinker.
Embrace beats without hesitation.
Life moves along with or without your participation
In the shadowed shades of my blues.
I tenderly look for another who I can summon as one who lives life in honour,
Of all that is true.
Those who speak the spoken word in all its iridescent hues.
Colours drape my inner wardrobe.
Yet, I clamber for my grey, nuances of noir.
Catastrophizing all the whites for showing up my yellow gnashers.
Against a blustery pale backdrop of mountains blanketed by capped ice.
Brazen, I stand on the highest peak.
Cheeks misted by tears.
Contemplative in being joyful for the moments of inner peace.
Cast out this unwanted wardrobe.
No more colours in clandestine!
The drab shabby (not so chic) curtains concealing my true identity.
My makeup is not for every entity.
I’m asked to write the truest sentence I know.
Hemingway knew a way to interweave words worth more than bread made from the finest patisserie dough.
Scraping pennies to get by the hard knocks.
We do what we gotta do to get by.
Poverty causes ‘bros before hoes’ and ‘chicks before pricks’.
Keeping my pins steady as balls curve to nebulant sides — it incites fear into my inner stream of consciousness, dialogue conflicts –
Savaged by doubt and insecurity.
I’m on a trip with a Make believe demeanour.
One to conjure up more stamina and longevity-
To warn my inner Hecate to hesitate before she dare pro-curate.
Write to recover through seeping, bandaged wounds.
Riddling the mind with infectious curiosity,
To want knowledge is the power I crave.
It’s my security.
Droplets of lonely anguish torment my darkest spell.
I am the white temptress tempted to awaken the beast inside.
Though, I know it will be the catalyst to an eternity of mocking turmoil.
My final destination is not the country I occupy.
I’m an immigrant
I’m a traitor.
Colonised and imprisoned by outdated Imperialists.
The world is full of egotistical folk in full throws of the delirium tremens.
Murmurs of fragile Life keep me close to the fire.
It scintillates what I know is inside — lying dormant.
Ready to drive out the cancers multiplying with faces frozen,
In that blissful look of the ignorant .
I raise my sword.
It bleeds ink.
It is my heart : my deliverance.
I can’t fathom another way to jolt my instincts to kick out, and rise to take another breath.
I’m the one who needs these murky waters to survive . Forget I too need oxygen and gills to stabilise my Eco system.
If my world was captured by a drone;
I would want it to show me evolved into a hybridised pro-humanity amphibian.
Swimming side by side
dolphins & whales ad infinitum.
Our life is entirely summarised by a dash.
1981- insert date of death.
Everything that we do within those dates define what we accomplish and who we become or don’t.
One small dash.
Engraved on our tombstone is what makes our life signicant in this life to others…
That dash between the years is what we did or didn’t get to do with our life.
Or maybe I’m talking crap…..
Probably the latter ..
*( inspired by my garden& watching my washing dry. I tried. Ha ha!)
Pink shaggy rug
New man with a Brazilian just looking for fun.
A hanging basket.
No drills to screw it into the place
Hitting my alphabetical lah lah
Momentarily on a bent knee phallically, potted plant lowers its fees.
The law of gravity serves the man
The feminists of this generation …
Some bushes thrive on moisture..
Those lil weeds grow faster than mother’s ducklings -highly strung.
A bush with no name but heavily influenced by the 70s – missed the bell bottom end of Fearne cotton’s
A gnome is a gnome by any other name
unless you call it a gargoyle then you’ve followed the rules and found yourself an OG
under the bridge – you defecate graffiti will pay for shelter:
A fedora hat,purple blush hearts,a stiletto , glitter ,fire
Even for your sin.
Looking into the eyes of a monster BIG mama bush -I daren’t trim her
fear she will suck me right in her tush.
A relic of tears
A blaze my malbora stallion.
Clearly I’m flaying
She dances to my fascination ,
a soul that is filled with imagination.
carefree , bliss….
..no gravity can hold her –
Oh,what a kiss!
add a heel, another toe ,a shuffle and hop.
She leads the lot with her teeny tiny bop.
Four years ago. Born in the full sac.
Midwives tore at her home to make sure she would not lack
Life – no scream.
He had to be so mean.
She’s not breathing.
What the fuck ? I haven’t even recovered from all the sweat pouring and heaving
Skin on skin contact.
Enough to instil some sense of relief.
Four years later she is tall and graceful,
The word – darling springs to mind.
I look into her eyes,
I am blown away by the compassion I find.
She is my little lady –
Thank God I never stopped being a chancer;
because today I get to see my daughter ,blossom as a true dancer.
Honesty and upfront are my greatest assets & flaws. I’ve avoided blogging too much or connecting over the last few months because I’ve been hiding a lot of guilt and shame –
so I’ve been doing some thinking.
No stream of consciousness or poetry in this post…
Are you still with me? haha
I write for myself first and I always will. When I write for an audience I lose my way easily.
Apologies if this is old news to the more evolved spirits reading this. 😁
Daisy has an epiphany.
I’ve been contemplating on the saying ‘dig deep’
if you decide to use this quote to get you through an experience
Do you know why you need to dig deep?
from our conception & birth into this life
From our first breath – we have started to dig our own grave.
We begin to design the layout of where our final resting place or end will be.
It would be epic and less stressful if from the moment we are born we knew what we are meant to be doing.
Many people never figure it out or, if they do, it’s too late to ask them if they have it for obvious reasons. 😞
Many people decide to choose a saviour either in the form of an icon – a god, a person, goals – money, love, careers, addictions, etc…
We strive to find something to focus all of our seconds, minutes, hours and years blatantly meandering about on this planet.
Be careful who you allow to support you – some people are so busy trying to save everyone else, ( we all do it at some point); we forget our first honour and duty is to save ourselves and know our own purpose.
It’s known in psychobabble terms as the drama triangle.
Most of use tend to flit between three roles -Victim, the dominating in yer face/demanding person or the carer role depending on the situation we are in, people we are around etc.
Many of us go on to have children who rely on us – depend on us to teach them how to navigate their own path – how to create their own resting place – and to be conscious that each action, each decision they make has a hand in determining how they will die.
Teaching others to rely on themselves is a blessing, not a curse.
It is when we are faced with our own reflection, with no other help but to rely on our own resources /skills we collect along our journey in life.
Will we know how we will get to the other side or to our end in this human form.
Some of us end up addicted or come to our end at the hands of illnesses like cancer or dementia, car accidents etc.
Some of us can go out and have a heart attack while having an orgasm. It’s possible
Maybe some of us are unaware that from the moment we are given independent life we are consistently (for better or worse) building our own coffins.
Is it fair that we are not told this from our first breath?
I didn’t make up the rules in life or society.
We -or rather I – can only govern myself and my actions
Choose carefully who you try to help or who you accept help from.
Don’t get mad when people let you down
They are doing what they need to do – following their own purpose.
Some people never find out what their purpose is.
How comfortable and aware of your surrounding do you want to be when you take your last breath in this life.
We create our own Elysium or heaven or utopia even –
sometimes it’s not what we want or expect-
The truth is we won’t know until we are swimming against the tide or even hanging ten and riding the wave.
I do know that I want to be as conscious and aware of my choices, limits when the waves crash.
My personal chosen Gods have always been tangible- in the form of fully crystallised human beings -flawed just like me.
I think I chose human “idols” to put all my faith because I can have a go at someone when “they” 😉 let me down. I want to face my own success and disappointments A-sap .
Patience /Sabili is not a strength of mine.
I need to look at a reflection of myself to determine I exist.
it’s not easy to figure out life- there is probably more evidence for the saying that instead of philosophising about how to find our purpose i. life- it needs to be lived – consciously and with purpose.
We can live with a purpose not knowing if that purpose is “right “and we can live consciously and not know what our purpose is.
Our Past experiences can help us figure out what tools or resources we need to use if/when we consciously realise
Perhaps I’ve hit the bottom of my pit
How do I bypass this mythical minotaur I’ve read about?
We wonder how we can or even if we can
find strength & savviness to crawl up & out of it to a stable Terre ferme place.
We may wonder if we have the endurance, courage and motivation to get out of coal mine
Whether it’s worth finding a running brook of water to wash the soot from the inside out.
The alternative option is that our final resting place will be exactly where we decide to rest – in this case, the bottom of a pit. State the obvious 😂
It’s our personal responsibility to find (in our finite existence)a place where we feel we have done everything in our power tosit amongst the angels or the gods of Olympus or whatever it is we believe in that will take us through from the beginning to the end. where we can feel at peace with ourselves.
Some of us – most of us never get to that point. Sucks to be us.
I don’t fully believe reincarnation but I am aware that it makes sense our essence/ energy will go someplace else.
Society tells us it’s a selfish idea
‘ look after yourself’.
Human beings are wired to reach out but how we do that and to know our boundaries and the boundaries of others is tricky to balance
boundaries are constantly changing with where we are in our lives, emotionally, physically & mentally.
It’s scary to know we are ultimately alone – only we can change ourselves – our emotions – our ideas – our path.
It’s hard not to resent others or life for making us so capable and resilient.
Damn you life! How dare you 😂
It can be easier to choose to not see the bigger plan – this idea that, yes we govern ourselves and we must govern ourselves and own our actions and our lives.
We must practice being aware that every action /choice/thought we make – has that butterfly effect –
we cause the ripples of life. We are made up of molecules & atoms. Ie energy
Science has come up with terminology -that can help us understand our position in this world, we make up , what and how much we are capable
How much responsibility we all have.
We are tiny specks in the universe however just one body made up of molecules has a direct consequence on those around us, our environment – one choice word or action could help balance our life conversely it can cause it to topple over.
We have nature to compare ourselves to – A crystallised example of what happens when we fuck up different ecosystems – when we put element somewhere and take out element B from somewhere else.
It’s trial and error.
We repeat – the cycle continues.
I think that the fear of being alone is a lot scarier than actually being alone
When I am alone by choice or because People forget me. I decide
I choose to swim and come up for air.
I realised that I have walked the earth with legs , I’ve flown and seen the world from a bird’s eye perspective.
I’ve also stayed a rather unglamourous mammalian unable to grow wings or a tail to adapt to my surroundings.
I choose to live another day. I don’t know if my choices are right or wrong .
Time is what it is.
People in my life , of my life
I love you but I don’t want to need anyone. My desire is I want people because of the love & joy they bring to my life.
Do I decide to fight the battle every day or fall back into a walking state of slumber?