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The gods must be crazy

When chaos has erupted ready to engulf all that we are ;
Death will raise a fury to sustain all mortals with life.
The scales must never meet
For then only foe succeeds it’s ally.

  • the God’s must be crazy or a lie.
    #justafewwords before I die.

Cape Vulnerable

Danger lurks in wild-eyed faces.

Thoughts restrained to assuage feelings inverted debases.

Danger thrusts a third eye world view,

of hatred and vomit a careless overlook of blind men seeking to anew.

Danger conquests damsel in distress.

Jeans make it pleasurable for when she denies its requests.

Danger,

danger,

danger, –  it haunts her.

She sees what she wants to see; how it taunts her.

Hush little darling, remember naive, white rose petals,

Dreams hijacked by villains in full uniform metals.

Skettled and nettled – itching to find a place to seek comfort.

A goose down feather pillow makes a dream fit for the unfit.

Danger.

Danger.

Danger, it hawks in on her.

Hush, little darling – feed thine hunger, mother goose is baking in the oven.

Commit to a mind of normal functions. Emotional battery, maternal coven.

Reach not for this soul. It is claimed and is bold.

Wretched and lectured- ears buzzing with sensory ejaculation.

Sleeping partners do just what the contract state. Don’t let this assume an identity of edification.

Soothe, muse, love every bone,

ever tenderized bruise.

Damsel will never see you fall from your pedestal – you can never lose.

Choose, use -in moderation – her body will allow you to take so know thine limits

Infants on feet -rapping at the  doors -ready to impose a new order in the house of the fidgets.

P.S. I’d do it again in a heart beat

*Prompt FORBIDDEN LOVE*

Forbidden love shell-shock hearts with echoes of the gun shots .

Bang!

Fall to the floor .

Emotions mastery of us;

The puppets.

Universal soldiers we plea the heart must be acquiesce .

Ration it’s rational .

It’s bled blood red.

We walk — fine machines-

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Trivialise the flesh armour riddled with holes

Glimpsing sight of gleaming ivory bones.

Savage howls at  muscles contracting   into  contorted wounds.

Turn on the cannibals of Lust.

Devour us they must.

Tokoloshe monster

Neither height nor a warm bed will keep the heart away from

The obsessive frenzy of orchestrated, sexual slumber.

Denial of sacred sensory codes embedded within

 Mind will saunter in  Possessed —

Create a haunting soundscape of phantasmagoria.

Convince us that  forbidden love is worth the loss

Of Not only the Super Ego or the Ego but the Id —

That’s three parts of you or me.

Never regret times spent close to another body — chemistry is divine.

Aphrodite’s Divine presence

Unwraps our Im-pulses to climax to a primal rhythm .

Kindred spirits simultaneously reach the peak of a shared orgasm —

The body can’t hide from the  demon soul  inside .

Trumpet life

TRUMPET LIFE

Under pressure.

Breaking apart — splinting at a crucial fissure.

Until,

It  causes an eruptive displeasure.

Disquieted mind  brushes strokes of  bad blood around these elemental  chambers.

Cordoned off.

This is my plea.

So, don’t arouse my anger.

Beaten hearts with a wooden spoon.

These wings will fly-

I’m a fledgling, not a buffoon.

Weep for the Teether’s – the naive doomed  creatures.

They grow into  adults

Dolly the sheep baa’ed down pilgrims resting on mothering Sunday.

Bloody miscarriages — that awoke the town from their  walking slumber.

Think 6 nonsense thoughts a day to keep you sane!

Perforate these gums.

We’re merely animals lacking in  humanity,

Evolved to maim the world for self depravity.

Governed by  social media surveyors  cohearsing   joined up conversation into cursive bubbles.

Uttering bullocks — unravel the mind to overcome the low ebb of the  tide.

Disquieted mind tumbles over.

Terribly tainted, it is prompted to conjure a pantomime.

San Francisco knights

Dangle buckle boots or  bare feet over the  bay.

The full  moon is reflective.

Learned that life will conquer them too  if it has its own way.

Make it a Wishing well.

Make it the  Stage!

Exist or live….

Hell is on earth  — uprise to increasing fees,

We’re bludgeoned to death

if we don’t  pay.

Over and over.

More and more.

Gluttonous gloaters   feed our souls community  with   skunk;

not from Bombay.

We walk around the streets in mobile  psychosis.

We are a society fabricated from bedlam , deserted   in these woods.

Wondering about other lands,

Running away from daggers armed by cloaks concealed behind hoods.

We dance around  the pink elephant cuffed behind its  cage — waiting for the  trumpet,

To spray all 7 dynasties  with glory seeds.

A trunk  with roots in disarray,

This is Life that I seek to portray.

*Inspired by writers block, panic attacks, mental illness, injustice, isolation, fear and the song ‘San Francisco Knights by People Under The Stairs’

*Inspired by writers block, panic attacks, mental illness, injustice, isolation, fear and the song ‘San Fransico Knights by People Under The Stairs’

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

Exist for others peace of mind

RIP KEITH from the Prodigy.

I planned another attempt on my knees

Spoke to a God

Pathetic

Uninspired

Extraterristial

Daisy is no more.

A body emptied walking on egg shells.

Shocked mind

No purpose

too unkind.

Secret whispers

Willful whiskers

Silent sisters

Cause me to break out in blisters.

Words fail to recover my obsolete pose

Hesitant

Defunct

Maleficent

stream of wrong chosen floaters in crimson blood rivers.

white foam is my diffident

Illiterate

A hypocrite.

Angry cross dressers

hung by confusion

bungee jump without rope into a quagmire.

Prayed to a cloud God in an attempt to die

magnificent.

Lost, scared, dreading my loss of locks

inside I’m already dead.

Queen bee keeps me in fear

droplets of pollen

my rival is life

sincerely solemn.

A fraud

illiterate.

Alone decorated in red confetti

Enraged at my syphilistic minded inability to write even borderline literate.

Fits and spirits

rummy body popping misfit.

Failure to perish

shelf life insignificant.

Non academic.

A failure at talking transparent.

A liar

A thief of integrity.

A coward rumpled into a once upon a time melody

No solace — out grown to suffer from eternal colic.

Insignificant.

Stubborn push me over

‘cos it’s a waste of oxygen.

Recovery is overrated.

Trust when I say

I’m insignificant.

Footloose –

I lied and I planned

My prison is this world.

Let me go!

I’m not strong enough to serve the bee revolution cos I’m different.

Lonely.

Scared to never feel my bones.

Lonely.

Scared to lose my only love

My minds my terminal to Cancer.

Purpose – 37 years wasted in ignorance.

I’m not writer

I’m a fighter.

An enemy of my Self.

Uncomfortable with peoples apparent confidence in my ability to not give up.

Strength is not telling

Can’t keep a secret — I’m a fraud — I lost my soul to the devil 3 decades ago.

A ritual given freely to a demon I couldn’t please.

I’m insignificant

Why did I tell of my plans?

Damn do gooders orchestrating my life.

Suicide is the answer.

I’m dead inside

I’m a joke-I’m aimless — shameless

Engaged – remember to pretend to be engaged.

Life is a sham — there is no plan.

Fear makes me who I am.

A writer died on that table.

I shrink my words-

I am not who I say I am.

Leave me

Don’t tease me;

Hated

underrated.

People — I don’t get you — assist me — talking in skipped beats

a sham.

Daisy in the willows

I’m not a fan.

Help me disappear

not in another room with four walls

Damm you,Bee

you hold me rooted

Why do I love you ?

You’re my child

I am A mother on mute.

Lost to a cause

Petrol bombed mind.

A lost cause to

These four walls.

Life is a shore ditch with no applause.

Inherently stubborn

alive — so very sudden.

Cheated out of death

I don’t want to live

Stop saving me

Screaming to a society blinded

deaf.

Samaritan I’m your even,

my

selfish? , yeah

welling up in self pity.

Take my Queen — kill me — a paperless tree.

these words are not free

I cannot be

Fuck the world

Listen to my plea.

Let me die

damn you all

I have Cancer in my mind.

You live behind fake smiles and superficial styles.

The only time i ever felt free was when I wrote without thinking

I’ve lost my creativity

I’m done thinking

My rights taken from me.

Death embrace me

Comfort me.

Why can’t you fall in love with me?

Damn you all.

I am my biggest flaw.

Live for yourselves.

let me disappear into a shallow grave carved out of skin

Scarred by the welts of time.

A master of self distortion

Fuck the life-it serves no function.

All I had were my words.

Now I have nothing but a habit of crawling on hands and knees hiding from life’s sores.

I don’t want to be famous.

i want another chance to die — Fuck you

I’m possessed

I’m shameless.

Hospital and doctors orders

I’m not an animal!

I’m a ghost of the cult of the morbid.

These are my words

Damn you, Bee!

Manipulate me into loving you

If only I didn’t care.

Maybe I don’t…

These words are simple.

Not good enough.

I’m the fucker with the guardian angel who won’t let me go.

Fuck you, you test me, then arrest me.

I’m perpetually unhappy.

Let me go.

Let me finally be free.

I was born into the wrong world,

The wrong time.

fuck you all – I don’t want to be

Yet still

I’m too damningly kind.

Survival of the fittest — I’m a rumpled coward-a retard — a misfit.

Damn you,host — you saved me — when you should have save your breath for another.

I exist for others peace of mind.

*something self loathing in Rage -is (?) I wrote post -suicide attempt*

Write to recover. I don’t always feel so much self loathing. There is always a silver lining…….

At the peak of clarity

And ,

at  the peak of her insanity

A moment to glance away from this  reflection gunning down with its eyes of La Mort

if she could see past the discombulated figures

Deflect

An outline

of

fear and self-loathing will

dissolve

A moment of clarity

my child in her stark purity dancing in front of the mirror.

Find her standing motionless

pick up the comb, attend to her dutifully

This reflection

This motion is fuelled by a fierce love.

A fierce love distorted by fragments

by her own mother’s dysmorphia

The same mother who flees from her Self every day.

If this is not a demonstration of love

then it is a moment of clarity

A reality  of her creation

Sweet bitter

A tipple

Tears or bourbon

No longer certain

Does it matter?

Then it is a moment of clarity.

Willful wrong

(a stream of consciousness  borderline poem unrevised) 

Whilst fleeing from the echoes of ‘you were in the wrong’. The Screws twist torture upon entering her 4th chamber.

Inside her bloody mind. Dried & pressed between her breasts

Leaves, stained by painting the roses red.

Long live to leave the Queen of Hearts

Lovers lost: Lovers found -past & tense -future is uncertainty abound.

Forever locked in a  gaze with the  omniscient eyes of Janus

Uncalculated, her actions motivated by too much heart. Unruly emotions betrayed her by treason. Penelope, she is not for a reason.

Lost to thoughts in solitude until reunited with like-minded misfits caught up in the cycles we call seasons.

 

* Inspiration for Acrostic poetry word ‘willful’ came from how some people describe me & I wrote this cos the one person I thought would “get” how complicated relationships are (didn’t). #write to recover and keep me sane.

 

willful

adjective

will·​ful | \ ˈwil-fəl \
variants: or wilful

Definition of willful

1: obstinately and often perversely self-willed a stubborn and willful child

A muse in Patron

It don’t matter how many selfies you take.

What matters is if you can accept your own mirror reflection.

No time to flinch.

No time to hesitate.

Free to stride across abundant valleys conjured by a sweeping imagination.

God, when she weeps!

I collect her tears.

Covertly

Thankful for the martyr,

My patron muse.

Crystallized an abundant array of gifts .

Perhaps it is a silhouette…

Perhaps it is a rainbow’s smile illuminating intrinsic hues…

These words could reveal Science’s stuttering staccato voicing his love for nature.

For all her might

For all her brute

Which one is Beauty?

Which is Art?

What if you believed the sky is indeed blue?

Adversity

Reading back on words I’ve written

I mapped out a destiny of self hatred

Gulping down chunks of disbelief

I can’t loathe every part of the inner beast.

Choking on the words of the past.

No happiness to impart

No happiness to instil in my heart.

Struck by the shadows of villains in the dark.

Corrupted by an inner iago

Chanting in tongues.

I don’t understand this malarky

Find a place to comfort or hide

away

alone

Another lesson not learned.

40 winks of birthdays celebrated

Not one has counted in culminating in a positive celebration.

The inferno

The reckless use of words.

Contort my body

into a waking slumber of chronic illness

I’ve lost the gumption to confront my demons .

Blanks.

A dud.

A  dummy soul sold out to my own adversity.