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Fledgling or not -here I come
Today my thoughts confound me.
Bombard
Hijacked emotions detonated into a familar war zone.
The survivors feel mixed up for another mistaken identity
passport confiscated by newfound enemies.
A glimpse
the letter
E
motion
this queue finally advances
25 letters fated to the gates of uncertainty.
A survivor is stuck in the middle -it’s me -a headless body with a hidden agenda
Skin flushed assimilates bloody shadow a crimson hue mane of the unflinchers –
pale, skeletal, naked, destitute, some even of their robbed of own teeth
a pile-up -bodies all shook
adorned by a hand, ankle, A cold shoulder, one fair nipple, a flaccid penis
Perhaps your inner idealist
can resurrect these lives distorted by final moments -a conscious full of shame.
No dignity
No burial for those of faith
Souls denied a peaceful resting place.
The faithless blasted out mid breathe energy kinesthetic Life mid beat -legged it
A desperate plight -scientific proof hearts can beat or flee.
My body under constant surveillance
The scourge of self-scrutiny
Double doubt implants enhance all traces of unwanted memories
Should I hide my body
my identity?
The very essence of my being?
Caught unawares
emotions -use tic tactics
Thoughts use unrestrained strategies.
Haunched knees
propped up by bare feet
conditioned to protect my diasporic body
Roughly re-examine all once held beliefs.
Displaced her head!
how contrary I would have said
pure insanity I willingly would share.
If I don’t have any thought
or an opinion I’ve sought out myself.
I’ll become a diminutive
No person will ever see me
No person will hear my roar.
This voice will become non-existent -all my declarations are torn from the books of history
uninformed therefore never spoken nor unwritten
My right is to live and be!
My right is to feed peacefully
not between flippant mercenaries abiding by wall division protocol that I can’t see.
body displacement
head
disconnected to set a prenup engagement
How is it I feel the pressure of the tummy bloat after the soldiers who gloat
Finally relieved
of their lack of familiarity?
No sense die-hard before a sensation penetrates the first bloom of intimacy
They forget how hard they push
enter the orifice
Where I learned how to formulate words.
All I have is words and sound.
They take liberties- jabs & jeers are the echo chamber to my inner core.
Rotting
Bed rest
Bedsores,
These are the spoils of war.
Degraded
Defaced
Disgraced
My Emotions are absolute in their conviction
My sentence – A Disempowered daily mantra
I am to be their common whore.
a concubine filled up on spew, chunks of bile flotsam
traces keep me chronically ill.
Medical treatment denied because I’ve forgotten how to express my will
The West states I’m worth it !
the East send out a search party
Direction?
Possibly
on wise mind hill
There is no privacy.
My body is presented against my will
These clothes cover up the tight jeans that have become my only woe
Self-growth without a choice in how I present my self
I can’t
I have.
Scratch these newly formed scabs for I have lost my flair
writing words to recover
self-oppression lost out in the talent show of acquired skills
Recovery is heartbreaking.
Hoochie flavoured scent
sniff out trouble keeps me imprisoned
I look up -the window is clear still
Or perhaps my beliefs are outdated.
Murder with intent
disarm these emotions
strangers with a familiar stance
Physical appearance is my only strength?
How Naive a woman can be
One strip away from freedom
I claim a culture of sound
unification
Dance a tango inner peace with an outward serenity.
matching outfits
Silk lined hemmed skirts
embroidered letters spell out a movement of hope.
I’m one dancer
I’m one dissident
My possessions:
Passion
a fledgeling feather
& ink well
will deliver
A pregnant pause followed by a ward filled with the birth of more words
sentences will start to show
the labour of courage pushed out in its full placenta -reborn – free feathered fledgelings take flight
-A yoke is sky born
These are my words -maybe she wrote/ be happy or die trying.
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Why do I do this to myself?
Then again, Why not ? A small update on the NaNoWriMO front.
I have got my achievement badge of 10 000 words. Oh yeah! It’s pretty organic and rough but there is a story down. It is tangible and there is shit going on in it that may appeal to some one other than my characters sometime in my future life. I don’t know how some writers who plan every detail of their character’s tastes, shoe size -temperament etc. ever get around to writing and finishing a novel. I’m not trying to big myself up but I guess I need to be that person who pats herself on the back sometimes. Aint No-body who is gonna do it for you.This writing thing shows commitment. Doing challenges like this adds character and reveals another layer of our highly complexed selves, that is more interpretable to ourselves and the world and people who live around us . At least, this is what I think it does for me. So 20 days to go and 40 000 coherent linked up words to write and make into a story.
Maybe my writing is worthy of some praise- then again- maybe not. At-least I’m putting myself out there. Getting out of my safety zone. Speaking/typing of which, I have only gone and said I will stand up in front of a bunch of people next week and briefly talk to them about Anti-stigma and mental health. I hate talking in crowds. I’m more of a one on one sort of gal. There is only one way to conquer the fear of losing my train of thought when I get up and start my mini speech; and that is to confront it head on. Oh and make notes. tee hee!
Yeah, cos this will really catch on and be a hit right?
Wing it until you make it.’
Not a unhealthy quote to live by.
That reminds me! I need to create a mantra for myself -to big myself up for my mini speech and be a credible person to work with in a work shop. Okay. thinking of a mantra…
” I AM A GREAT PUBLIC SPEAKER AND I AM AN ASSET TO THIS WORKSHOP” – my mantra until next wed.
I’m rolling with it. I’m finding my place and it’s exciting and terrifying. I was a brilliant travel consultant and had loads of confidence a few years ago. I was good in every job I took on. I became ill again and I got up again. Never stop getting up. I’m not about to let my side down now or ever. The one problem I do have is, there is so much I want to do but I am only human and can only work within the 24 hour day structure. The main thing in is my mental health and physical health is good. The amount of pressure and stress I am putting on myself is not insurmountable. I’m having a blast!
P.S. no cocktails until Christmas ( apologies for actually bringing this word up as we are still in November- may I get no orange and half a lump of coal in my sack . It is time to detox the natural way. I am partial to a green tea and slice of lemon in hot water most days and the writer in me demands coffee. I am healthy therefore I must have one vice….
Daisy in the willows 