Blog Archives

Summer Daze

When I  first saw you , in Sitges , across from the bay- To say I was struck by your display of non-attire   is hardly an understatement.

My eyes darted in every direction . Phallic erections were all I could see in my embarrassed array- it was all so blatant.

There was simply nothing else I could do  but hold eye contact with you – those emerald-flecked  eyes is when I felt true mesmerism.

It was only then I realised how naked I felt fully dressed on this hidden beach -it projected the true souls that contain all thing auriferous.

My hands easily untied my tie-dyed blue sarong. I didn’t stop there . I may only have a hand full but I whipped off my white bikini top and wriggled out of my bottoms. All I could sense was an aura emanating off of  you

(sigh)  simply so… chivalrous.

The sun shone starkly – but being the  mightiest of knights you picked up my clothes, placed them next to yours. You took my hand and guided me -running , gold spun,free – to the turquoise , fish enchanted ocean.

Legs entwined around your torso – skin on skin  contact – salty, wet, tongue licks of devouring  devotion.

Lavishing one  other, two became one. The ripples, the bubbles- our heady  infusion, blasted open my eyes to the skies- – tufted clouds – summoned up  an old tune-

Puff the magic dragon.

Magic is always possible when you believe in you.  I  swear it had nothing to do with  that extravagant  elixir  of a  cocktail – I  imbibed a  couple of hours before, at that quaint restaurant – the one that I drank out of a craggan.

Composure – time to depart, float on my back -contemplate this dilemma of how quick I was to abandon my clothes.

 I may have come into the world as naked as I am right now but I know what is waiting on the coastline is a far cry  from my fantasised hardened  cocks.

 In fact quite the opposite. I know no shadow can camouflage    the   pruned skin of a   60-year-old Grandad  with a   wrinkled ,flaccid   penis.

Christ,  I am 21 years old- apologies for the sudden heaving up of  old man smell that a young me loathes.

It was meant to be a bit of fun – find the secret nudist beach – have a laugh – take a few sneaky pics ,make them go viral- anything for a cheap high.

It’s gone viral alright – my mates couldn’t resist -filmed it all!

pardon me – if I gather  my clothes and seek legal advice to prove to you all – this act is one steeped in a state of  stultify?

The mirror

The mirror reflects the beast is inside it.

Inside the mirror the beast reflects,

On ideas inside reflective retrospection.

Reflect reflexive reflux.

Unburden the beast

From  the mirror on its side.

Beasted prisms

-open mouthed,

Cavernous cat calling, flea bags .

Black shades of night undeterred by the mirror at that angle.

Pages of bondage erotica famish the interior of the beast within.

This mirror shatters,

splinters shriek for a second too long to be assumed  as straight.

Queer in the way they lay askance humming for a low light to see inside the shade.

Hecklers shadier  than souls  of migrated slaves left behind in the mines.

Mine’s   more saintly that Mary Magdelean and her merry consorts.

Inside the mirror comes an ideology in pursuit,

In vain it pursues the ideal mirror come -ingly

Humming birds make cuckoos cower and tall trees suppress air ,sneering inwards.

Deforestation is a  reflection of the soul of the beast

This is our true form.

Humans are the beasts of nature.

A crystallized form of sin

A loss of the last glimmer of humanity.

*Inspired by reading  ‘Reading experiment’ by Hazel Smith. Chapter one- Introductory strategies

Shrouded Sun Screen

*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

inanimate.

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.

Silence.

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.

Arrogant?

Perhaps.

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.

Chloridic.

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.

Wear sunscreen?

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.

Choice has always and forever.

-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.

Future anxiety.

Past Regrets.

  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.

Karmic balance.

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?

Murderous plot.

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.

Demon Junkie

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?
does it?

When I think of alcoholics, I see a depressed personality.
Crash. crash, crash.

Old school haiku

Water, wind and fire

Nature is spectacular

Gold hues are divine.

Tuesday Haiku 😉

‘Fire and Brimstone’

The stars of clarity

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
Reverential potential

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

Usually..
A habitual sign of creative apathy

Nevertheless tomorrow will start- again
Infallibly

If I told you

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 loves

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

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

Untold

Untaunted

Untainted

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.

Savages of mockery

Life is a set of numbers within a market of numbers

And we

the

diminutive 1s

who in our moments of graphic growth grapple for an extra addition to our sum total of flock.

We end up divided by a minion of millions

We are

A herd of expletive multiplication lost to the world

Implicated

in

Watching her frock slashed by our greed.

We are the true savages running our mouths with inequality

a mockery

Hypocrisy.

The demise of the humanitarians philosophy .

The colony

My faith was tested by the colony

The cross bore into my chest like multiple sessions of ECGS

I thought I had forgotten what it was to feel like an honest me!

The strength of survival of the fittest

Compelled hope to flee

Or save me

My choice

Brainwashed for a profit

A racquet

Insidious to true inequality

I’m here

I’m an insurgent

Indulgently

Indignant to all the two faced flags

Denying

denoting

Independent thought

For the books to be written

of/

Off

philosophy

Clouded the dogma that corrupts those who believe in their infallibility

Water – a drop

A drop.

A drop.

A drop

Do not judge me

For my sapling survival

a birth of a scape goat to inscribe the words of a free spirit

With no country

I claim as my own

I am who I choose as my identity

Borderless

No government

No political movement can discriminate against my spirit

For I denounce those who cannot see the truth

In front of them

even when they kneel

Before nature

The only divine death

With nothing to face.

Sincerely,

The unknown scripture of abandonment sans fear