*photo credit Francesca Woodman, Space2, Providence, Rhode Island, 1977, © George and Betty Woodman*
‘Always wear sunscreen’ – comes from a song.
Wisest life advice I’ve ever heard?
‘Don’t read beauty magazines they will only make you feel ugly. ‘
Quoting like I’m toting.
Screens -Scenes. Teams. Streams.
Rhyme it out until I get an inspiration to scream.
I Love screens. What to watch?
I never wore sunscreen.
I went under the artificial tan beams when I hit the isle of Blighty.
Cancer, I probably have.
The world is full of it. Boasting in its insidious arrogant fashion.
We can’t slip away from this malady.
Life is a parody.
Stage screens. Projections. People hustling and bustling about in the form of shadows.
Cue: Audio – people chattering, laughing, Christmas jingles pop out like a pack of Pringles.
‘Once you pop you can’t stop’
Stream of consciousness interrupted by my very own human Bee.
How you doing ? – A total Joey from the series ‘friends’.
Beware of enemies posing as your bros and sisters. Cut out cardboard fake, one-dimensional pranksters
Politics have got me in the corner of a boxing ring, cutting teeth on my mouthguard.
Betray my thoughts and beliefs when I mention the pantomime that is crawling underneath the flesh of America’s skin.
I don’t want to share any posts on this farce. Spread more hate and give more time to something that makes me want to spew my guts out.
Angry on behalf of all that is left of humanity.
The stupidity line is growing longer than the start of the poverty sign.
One screen dividing the people and oh wait they are all in the same queue.
Branded – I can’t stand it.
Fuck Kim K and K west and all the KKK’s and the rest of the Hollywood bandit Muppet crew in folly land with extra zest.
All lives matter. Seriously?
I’m about ready to pack my bag with the bare necessities. Head out to the jungle and live life with my true fellow earthlings.
If I could grow fur, I wouldn’t need sunscreen.
What the hell are we humans even doing here when we can’t even adapt or evolve in our natural surroundings?
Destroy, conquer, divide- it’s a woeful stuttering thought.
Soon we will be paying for the air we breathe.
“Water is not a basic human right” Just a thought from Nestle.
Stop polluting what was given to us.
Stop changing the screen to the scenery you want the commoners to see.
We are dying.
Hairdresser fed up of listening to other people moan. She applies for a job to treat people in a morgue.
Now you listen to me!
We all need to talk even if it is behind a screen – a mask.
I’d rather bleed from my eyes than cover my true feelings, opinions, and thoughts.
People can laugh. I don’t care.
Scan my soul and I will pass every scripture criteria to go to anyone of your chosen heavens.
I reflect what I see in others. We are but mirrors of another.
Despise me? Something inside me resonates with you. What are you hiding?
Drawn to me? remove the smokescreen – brave soldier-admits and refuses to deny that we all share common dreams,
feel similar emotions.
Have days when it’s all commotion after commotion.
I scream – a throwback to the bairn I never intended to wean.
Heartless – that would mean I am aimless.
I’ve had my eye on a spot. That takes more heart and commitment than spouting out hateful, denounced rhetoric.
Grief- ridden, sick chick.
She should have grabbed the knife.
She should have locked the door.
She should have put more clothes on.
She should have done the cha- cha- cha.
Would it have saved her?
Polo – life mint- raspy breath in need of sprightly death.
It’s fun to dream. It’s even better to live it.
Protection – duty to our children- the ones who love us.
I say be reckless -not with others hearts- but be a part of the movement to dine with the Ming dynasty, hovering somewhere above, a local art museum, in some loco town down in Acapulco.
The song I was on about when my thoughts were rambling.
-Candor, heart spilling starch tumble dry fresh.
Ominous eyes on stalks can feel the tearing of flesh.
Lobster bisque – feel the pain- rubbing eczema flakes in the mesh.
Motivational mantras praying for imaginative depth.
A leap of faith from a dark quarry, novels unwrap intoxicating pages saturated in meth.
White suits, red suits, black suits – jokester howls in lunatic tongue at his procurement of all laughter.
Voiceless, misunderstood, invisible swan still morbid, unhappily ever after.
Death scents not in lavender bursts, clashes with stale tobacco.
Steven Hawkins robot voice stuck in a stench of staccato.
Present lives in the moment -startlingly clear.
Blink and the eyes will miss it. Shut off all senses and lose the rest of the steer.
Grace be mine!
Ego ride away on a horse of jaded divine.
Little Mockingjay prepares Dame to release her idealized body preconceptions. Babies speak in benign.
Selfish task force. Love to bind a new union.
Born addicted – a chance encounter for a significant sibling reunion.
Selfish, marred acts of those who seek to atone for sins of Greed.
The world’s a lot smaller, fewer cards.
Time to make new memories in clear waters running with creed.
Tall orders, cats mewling, and choleric baby withdraws from life’s order.
What a sappy mess they make.
Second chances don’t come with a promise.
Each soul has its own border.
The ring of education – judicators, over boil in an over timed pressure cooker.
Hungry students ready to whore out the possibility they carry the pearl.
Send out for the Hookers booker.
Close these scriptures. War wages paid out in illness.
Mind cavernous in an unresolved mess.
Sales galore – glorified slave stitched clothing for all.
Moral urges to make do with a Makeshift dress.
Recycle on thought- careless whisper – the banana flavored condom went in the wrong bin.
Next time buy the toilet freshener with the least amount of Carcinogenic properties within.
The future promise of a surge in over priced goods.
Planning for this new hood smacks of a drugged reality.
Low suspension thoughts, feelings soar through the milky way- lost in an energy of fatality.
Maternally skinny – nourished on a liquid diet, uppers, downers and 7 0f your five a day.
recoil in horror for the day expectant ghoul comes from it’s decided gestational incubation from its hostess.
Who deserves to pay?
A hike up in rent for turning out disabled and bent or, a life staring into the consequences of hitching up an unhemed skirt?
Rumors of have not. Denial that life belongs under flowers in stalks covered with dirt.
There is always a choice, Never a right time to get to perfection.
One decision to make. God willing, the next messiah is a fruitful resurrection.
Because I could not tell this demon,
it did kindly tell me it wasn’t all a fantasy
Paraphanelia of the supernatural, everywhere,
Yet not a drop of tormented screams to tell nor see
You can tell its mental manipulation, ungodly beauty, but I choose to be deceived.
Disarmed by a seducing look
Naked as the first female form -I almost believed I was in the garden of Eve
the antichrist led me to become this incurable junkie.
Never forget the unalterable attempts to resist its allure
All attempts were futile I remained a hopeless druggie.
A succubus, however hard it tries,
Will always be a compelled rogue demanding to be in need.
Does this dream walker make you lust after?
Or does loving it make you bleed?
When I think of this Lileth, I see an entity in need of consuming Chi .
Grunt, gheep, grope
Eventually, this demon will depart with my seed.
*I needed a writing prompt and I decided to use a poem generator
this was the original computer-generated poem and I was inspired to change it to make a piece of work my own.
Because I could not tell for Addict,
it did kindly tell for me.
Addict, Addict, everywhere,
Yet not a drop to tell.
You can tell, you can get, but can you believe?
I cannot help but stop and look at the incurable junkie.
Never forget the unalterable and hopeless junkie.
A fiend, however hard it tries,
Will always be rogue.
Does the fiend make you shiver?
When I think of alcoholics, I see a depressed personality.
Crash. crash, crash.
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.
Water, wind and fire
Nature is spectacular
Gold hues are divine.
Tuesday Haiku 😉
‘Fire and Brimstone’
3 second freestyle writing that needs to work on all the me’s 😂😂).
Starting with the sun.
If the sun began with me
If tomorrow starts without me
I’ll live or die
Who will know but me?
The dawn would surely see
That if the stars began within me
I’d allow them all rights to copy my vapid words.
Absolute in my vindication
The globe entirely could desecrate me.I don’t follow humans decree of mother nature’s rules
A habitual sign of creative apathy
Nevertheless tomorrow will start- again
If I told you about the sun hiding behind those dense clouds
Would you listen to the birds
No judgement obscuring your heart echoed all kindess reverberating sans sound?
If I told you I’m hopeful your frown would disappear once those beatific rays raise a trumpet of graciousness from the maelstrom without the heartbeat of sound?
No hyperbole would I wish on your demeanour
No drama I wish to demand to demand
Upon you, the courageous.
My nature -condensates
A lady of the lake I’m bound by multiple men burned my ambitious stakes.
Causing this reality to vaporise
No slumber can awake.
I rise without the tidal waves of mayan traditions
Perhaps I forsook
I live on a continent my own maker allowed me to sew piece by piece
Grains of sand did my ancestors drown making moulds of bodies with clay.
I wish you to know my character.
I wish you to know my elements like demeter-
a mother never begets her daughter.
Never left to the scriptures of men
Neither ink forsaken
Neither word twisted by those history writers who forsake them.
their integrity .
My nature is conceived
Nor pre ordained by these seasonal flakes
These words are my own.
My love !
Don’t desert all we have accumulated of late.
Where were the people when I needed them
Were they where I left them?
Did the full moon transform them into werewolves
In a warehouse coveted to me?
Why wear the fur of the monstrosity of nature?
Or are humans wary that they need some creature to poach so they can reach the clouds ?
Were this a poem,
A parable of wear and tear
I’d gladly state my animosity wherever it would state:
I’m a human feral.
A token to the lost parade
Share the flag of those who ask where to care and when!
Shun not what you fear to understand
Don’t stigmatize the most inherent part in you; what makes you human!
Embrace each emotion &feelings.
My belief is if we hide our so called darker sides makes that part of our character stronger and unbalanced
Lessen that burden, become whole:
Be the full rainbow spectrum despite what your favourite colour is…
There is more to us than nuances of shady blacks & untouched white.
We have a choice to give in to or resist emotions that merely reflect we we are in our journey in life.
No journey is stagnant
No feeling is permanent.
Why are some emotions or feelings seen as bad or good? Aren’t they all important and deserve to be felt.
Nothing is stagnant.
It’s our fundamental nature to feel.
What do we do with our emotions ?
Our feelings and thoughts , what do we do with them?
Extract what you need in moderation?
This is not a comforting answer is it?
What is your answer ?