Today ,I wasn’t prepared though my gut knew better than to be not blase but scared.
A fleeting hope that the healers could give you a boost
The hardest decision was to accept that your time was up & I had to cut you loose.
I’m numb, guilty, wished I had you for a few more nights.
Allowing your sorrowful suffocating soul seconds more would add to this punishing plight & dreams of death – faeces, dead babies, deer, filthy flies and discarded driftwood souls drunk on flotsam
Waivered inner stengh; sight to ignite a courageous carcass of hope
Never mind , my Tatiana. You breathe free , unleashed from the God’s who wouldn’t let you rest.
You were too remarkable to ignore.
Your status has soared
A wing span of your choice.
These words don’t do justice
I love you
This is your eulogy
An ode to your life with no apology.
so sweet ,
Life and death
The mortal twins
The janus of the past , the future
You the triplet was my greatest present.
Render me unfaithful
Eternal sin stains noir shades on my skin
grief knocks at my door with a leash in his hand
reads me my rights, instructions of the feelings I will parade with a downcast glare remember this moment of shame – remember the touch of the unfamiliar intimacy
Emotions torn from the sacred part Please don’t stare
Turn your eyes away -oh shame sit down I have lost my dignity – the grace to care
sinners are the reason the saints are adorned with absolute conviction in Believers prayers
(a stream of consciousness writing prompt 10 line poem REGRETS Poems_For_Life
Is life just a formality to prepare us for death?
How many people have died in their God’s name in their moments of weakness and then died in those moments of weakness?
I don’t know where I’m going with this question but what does it say about faith and life and our different notions & preconceptions of death and our loved ones final resting place ?
My thoughts after watching Martin Scorsese film ‘Silence ‘
A film to make those who think think
Just a thought…
If you know how to love you know how to live
If you know how to live you know how to love
A stolen sign
whilst awoken waiting on directions for heaven’s gates
Run out of fuel
words condemned ?
soul ( emaciated)
Fated E Lated Disorderly
Dispose these written words
To an insincere society.
The mardi gras lives within
a breathe wren
Sightless strumpet life (insert your own GIF)
Demanding hymn for those
Singing pslams to the prejudice
Justified :those folk who missed the nearest fire exit.
Ma petit fripon. Je t’aims toujours
I know a special girl whose heart is full of sunshine .
She dances her way around the world to deliver her own special punchline
She laughs so distinctly that people cannot help but become infected
It is a sight to behold when this observation is detected She is gracious and kind and is delicately inclined the phrase ‘she is an angel’ are the only words that come to mind .
Her name means beautiful-that of body, mind and soul and to have her touch so many lives confirms her title role.
She is my modern day princess -so noble and full of grace I love her with all my being and she is a person that I cannot replace
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my sweet child. You are the true gift I found it in your innocent eyes and that was the day my world truly began to shift.
* This Borderline poem was written a week before I attempted to take my life (again).I ended up in Critical Care in a coma for 5 days & in ICU for a further 6 days. I was discharged from hospital on the 21st of May 2020 *
Please, make sense of reality.
Use a stream of consciousness
words to vent,
A discovery in recovery
Fathom out sense because words are only as good as the interpreter.
Could add literary success to a Gravatar profile in an ebook
Add few drafts poured into that fulminate crunched up chaos.
This doesn’t invoke a feeling of literary success.
Struggling to convey all words .
Reciprocated words are often misinterpreted
Another attempt to convey these words
Perhaps one person will see this array of affray spread its torment defecating the inner spiral case of the
It swirls descends these steps in every way.
The moment to call it a day
This draws an outline forever have to have the last say.
Hear me proclaim
Don’t want to carry on living this way
It overstays — the bailiff texts for rent arrears
What is laid down?
I’m not done yet.
Hanging by a thread it’s tethered
Seen many days to identify as weathered
Hanging by a thread
This is my life purpose!
Final chance to meet my fate
Waited for this all my life
A mystery date with a severed soul mate.
Taught & tethered & weathered is this rope
I’m no tight rope walker.
I’ve become my own word stalker
Shoulda, coulda, woulda arrested these rants before my digress
Wait in this hidden corner.
Evidently I’ve learned that survival is innate.
It ain’t easy to digest the days I’m not blessed to eat from a plate.
keep rising up despite a life times worth of trip-ups.
Until I die
One fine day
I’ll face the final exit of my mortality
I’ll know the truth
Either way it’s gonna end up with a body
Subconsciously know why I feel
It’s called humanity
What do I know about that damp dark corner entertaining souls I’ve yet to meEt?
Going to have to wait for a future promising chance we haven’t dreamt of taking yet.
If I lose all memory
Forget those words
soggy, wet, lost to another realm of the bereft
Lest I forget.
I write to recover.
Be happy or die trying.
Simultaneously a resilient species & inconveniently inept
via Ma petit fripon
Reminiscent of an uprising of crickets ready to battle
Stare at a puffed updiamond heart
Drumming inside an empty cage. Birds ripped apart.
Gargoyle stares ignored.
Folk bumble about unaware what is in store for us all- eventually.
The breathe of Hades-
Lingers then makes a dash for scant flesh and bones.
Meat is not this gods instrument. Lust causes call for more drones
Sponge, moisten parched parted lips
Raven signals the ire of its whips
The ones who don’t loose it in bedlam excite
Invites all loved ones to rally round
Stands by door. Stands back.Admires its ownpower.
A moment to savour for a while more.
Every door closed, each breath cloys
Begs for enough fare to cross the distance to embrace elysium air.
Today everyone shall know how close we are to parting from brown soil
Lamb,hatched chickens,babies born in Cumbersome air.
the cycle must complete before we can emerge reborn
Death is inevitable as necessary as life is to the Cumbaya
of springs first show of petal.
When you look at the beginning of this new dawn
Know that when you stand back in awe
It is because you have felt the chill of winters soul depart
Shed a tear for the snowman who brought our youth so much joy.
Appreciate death. Stare it in the face
The sun chants
count in rosary beads
tomorrow never dies.
Trying to type something while listening and watching my grandmother dying.
I support the assisted dying law. This is inhumane.
A selfish farce.
Happy mothers day
Wherever you go
Wherever you roam
I hope that it is a place as magnificent as earths revellers make it out to be
Ma petition fripon. J’taime xxxx
* What I wrote waiting and comforting my ma and my gran before she passed over.
This is the moment where I should embrace the wintery-powder snow to come.
We all delight to create snow angels.
So too do the most damaged pimped out hoes
The death of everything I know.
Even one thing for certain.
I blew according to the way the wind doth blow.
until I walked right into the eye of the
shouted them down-
No, I won’t go slow.
Voice ricochets seeking a target
The managers above cloud corporation hear my
Attacks of panic.
I got what I was owed.
Hitch hiked a lift with a passing tornado.
Whirlwind dropped me off in a place with no directions to the Republic of sense-at-ors of common.
I walked along the the uneven, cobbled path — another independent equality free flowing feminist ,
juggling with digits and exchanged words with third eye chakra chemists
All alternate in form — it ends for the same means.
Or is that me unravelling myself from being stitched up — picking away at the seams?
I didn’t mean to lose my way — countryside hikes are not my governing zodiac sign indicating
I’m in my element.
This body contains still waters wrapped in layers of skin.
No teasing trickle or babbling brook
nor a wishing well to reassure my hearts confidence within.
Summertime- the livings never easy
not when you’re a weed on self destruct,
especially when the sun shines on and makes blossoming
a gift without the morning sickness
That sense of queasy.
Dark sunglasses can’t make me incognito to —
I should of clapped my hands
, in breathless awe when the sunset—
lowered gently against the abstract backdrop
Tropical orange salmon, pink sprayed skies.
Pay my respects —
Let it rest when it his time to slip down and fall.
Reap what you sow.
I deal with every blow.
Turbulent Winds commands my flight against common ground
I find myself high up and all alone
the comedown — finds me face down in muddy bog marsh — eyes arrested by a facetious fog —
Not even a bird to sing me an ode of encouragement to aid me back home.
we come into this world alone and we die alone.
Money, stuff — the acquisition of property
— it all gets left behind when we lift the veil to step into the next body of energy-
stagnation left in a cadaver —
this is our vessel —
Our only claim to earth’s throne.
Seasoned Cycles of
it’s contradictory to our nature.
Wearily wallow over wilted, dead plants — tomorrow I’ll throw them away.
Embrace the opaque
the possibility of a welcome winter
undisturbed silence-solace only to be found in untouched fallen snowflakes.
Trigger the cycle to fall — this is autumn.
Death and decay I feel implacably broken.
This idea of pressing flowers, dried
Into bookmarks is a nostalgic notion.
Shouldn’t I let it go and embrace the tremors, the blast of the callous cousins cold and colder
A gift of this perilous season?
I live on an island full of tall trees in treason for being out of season.
Let these words be enough.
Be my reason.
On my knees begging for hands to let go of me-especially those who touch are rough.
Grant me sight to see-
permit my body and soul to feel the spectrum
exhilarating and painful emotion.
Facing forward to a future
smelling the unsullied scent of rebirth
A possible sight spotting of Tigger
ready to uncoil and bounce into spring
For the awakening of the blessed bees, Lilly white lambs and a hereuse holiday closer to the ocean.