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Pink Shaggy

*( inspired by my garden& watching my washing dry. I tried. Ha ha!)

Pink shaggy rug

  freshly spun 

New man with a Brazilian just looking for fun.

A hanging basket.

 No drills to screw it into the place 

Hitting  my alphabetical lah lah

Sublime.

Momentarily  on a bent knee phallically,  potted plant lowers its fees. 

The law of gravity serves the man

 The feminists of this generation … 

Look within

Some bushes thrive on moisture..

 Those lil weeds grow faster than  mother’s ducklings -highly strung.

A bush with no name but heavily influenced  by the 70s – missed the bell bottom end of Fearne cotton’s 

runny tum 

A gnome is a gnome by any other name 

unless you call it a gargoyle then you’ve followed the rules and found yourself an OG 

Spot 

under the bridge – you defecate   graffiti will pay for shelter:

A fedora hat,purple blush hearts,a stiletto , glitter ,fire 

Even for your sin.

Looking into the eyes of a monster BIG mama bush -I daren’t trim her  

fear she will suck me right in her tush.

A relic of tears

 A blaze  my malbora stallion.

Clearly I’m flaying

Sincerely,

The Ending.

Slinging Sleuth

Is it me?

Or is it you?

For the years we scarpered away like dissident spew.

Acceptance should come from our real 3-D form.

Instead,

I find it in the eye of the cyber- sphere storm.

Thunder used to scare me

 Evidence was heard with me on skid row.

Now, I love a good drummer, to play my heart,

awaken you,

so you too have to face it and know.

Who are my friends among so many foes?

?

You may know my name.

You may have heard of my doings.

Gossip is for the feeble minded –

fun?

Yes, but all it does is reduce you to what I call are my fewings.

Lacking in truth and compassion.

In denial of your own feuds.

It’s a shame you, fewings, have to shine a light on my silky nudes.

Paint a picture – tell it.

Make it your own.

When you get closer to the next ear,

make sure you credit yourself with what you have weaved into that picture and sewn.

I may be mad and success is giving me an incredible hand.

We all have to play.

don’t go eyeing up all the spades.

End up back to level one and start off as a one-man marching band.

Look into my eyes.

Don’t like what you see?

Well, my dear .. what is that makes you want to get the hell up and do the blitz and flee?

See something?

someone familiar?

see your own self?

Feed your ego with ya very own distiller killer.

Rattle my bones.

I am transparent.

I know your secrets.

They are not mine to go and unleash like they are a target for a spent errant.

Ignore me if you must,

but then don’t go using my name in a scattered attempt to unearth some dust.

If you want it.

You have your own soot.

Talk about that.

At least you are sure to have more than half the goddamn loot.

Opinion is not the truth,

but suffer fools gladly,

if it gets you to feel like some kind of Mickey mouse sleuth

Little lady dancer

She dances to my fascination ,

a soul that is filled with imagination.

carefree , bliss…. 

..no gravity can hold her –

Oh,what a kiss!

Pointed toes,

add a heel,  another toe ,a shuffle and hop.

She leads the lot with her teeny tiny bop. 

Four years ago. Born in the full sac.

Midwives tore at her home to make sure she would not lack

Life – no scream.

He had to be so mean.

She’s not breathing.

What the fuck ? I haven’t even recovered from all the sweat pouring and heaving

Skin on skin contact.

Brief .

Enough to instil some sense of relief.

Four years later she is tall and graceful,

The word – darling springs to mind.

I look into her eyes,

I am blown away  by the  compassion I find.

She is my little lady –

Thank God I  never stopped being a chancer;

because  today I get to see my daughter  ,blossom as a true dancer.


To be as you like

 

To be or not to be.

I could have stopped right there

Today I choose to be.

This family in all fairness will grow and grow.

Hockey team?

Feeling like I do

 Score as many times as you like.

Surrogate needed?

No.

Suffragette?

 Yes,

Suffer we must

those who refuse to eat and instead are force-fed  chickens on a battery farm.

Cow or Bull?

Shit,

Conflict.

Why do men get to enter and exit when they want?

Why do women only have the key to the chamber with the will to want to open or not…

Which is better?

I suppose both is just as fair.

‘Blue balls  isn’t  a medical condition

Alas,  if one must act this way,

A medical solution,

I have.

Used since the most ancient times.

 an Antarctican blast  of water

Ask any lunatic worth his marbles.

That one rolled right under the door.

Enough space for it  to peek.

Not so fair when we cheat.

Monopoly.

Monopolise.

monogamy.

Westerners sodomise.

How to end with a two-letter word?

 Shall I be a rebel and give not one but two fingers up to the rules?

Broken.

glass.

splinters –

a wooden leg tries to stick his in one hand.

Running away – I don’t want to see red.

rather  break open the heavens

reveal yellow yolk hues

Crimson Fans snort in disgust

If I must

put a rose on the end and forevermore you  will  have my friendship,

on every level of schools, we enter.

You two?

too?

or,

to?

or rather,

enter in to.

Will write poetry for love

I’m supposed to be the one who is feeling strong

Yet, I have got the biggest feeling I am getting it so wrong

Stick by me in sickness and  in health,

You have never let me down with all your lovin wealth

I feel I have let you down 

I don’t need to see no frown. 

The truth is as my mind slowly unhinges

The incessant  call of sleeping Grimm  makes sure it stays on the  fringes.

Loud and shrill,

My mind took a detour- scarpered for that biggest hill.

All I want to do is be your deserving queen, 

the one that acts out on the things I mean.

To do 

to be 

Mind is running away after hearing a great big boo.

I am no poet  

It’s not hard to show it.

I just want  you to know,

even in this state of harrow.

I love you

even when I am  stripped of my bow and arrow.

You  are  my king 

with this fact alone –

let it  be known  that in the end

 we will soar,

even if only with one wing.



Mike banana

inspired by this T -shirt )
Mike / Nike bananas – waaaah?

Don’t believe in a day a tee.

Don’t believe in a dye a tee.

I believe in emotions.

A parable.

A moral .

A story.
A lesson

learnED

If I listened without interrupting ( never filmed my candidates on camera) I’d be past  the ignorant rear view mir row ing
dialed   hind sight one wave  too late.


Long pause… ( episodic moment).
Bananas
Should have put a hashtag

(#)  radiation *may cause seizures * * drug use * misuse * violence * harsh  misuse of a vape * .

Film censorship can be deceiving.

I watch many films primed or netted for my viewing,

I see the warnings
How these kids ever going to adjust to life calling ?

I need a bit of tuning.

I started this off topic ness from listening to a past recorded conversation. I’m out of my depth .

I see

I’m out of my depth.

Now..

I’ve a 6 4 2 bounce back pillow from the silent sisters who muted on their way to the unseen pleides.

Piroutte mode.
Peel out of the mould

Did I lose you to a Mike bananas T- shirt that the mad republic would ask a beetle to submerge.
These words  die with a relic…
. . . . . . . 7 dot dive  of dismal drivel.

Iil

Eulogising Tatiana

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, wishing 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

Waived inner strength; 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 cold,

so sweet ,

so fair…

Life and death

The mortal twins

The janus of the past , the future

You -the  triplet was my greatest  moment of

present present.



Do I get a star?

Discipline is what is required to receive a Masters of Creative writing.

To be perfectly honest when I am told to do something- I just want to be a bit of a rebel.

Shout out a mega –No!

 My spirit kicking and fighting.

Word of the day.

Absurd to think I don’t even know if I have started to go grey.

Vanity.

Simply vanity.

A neutral  medlem of society.

forget the bloods and the crips -it is we who are the true calamity.

Word of the day.

Can I just willy Neigh  Neigh?

September,

September is coming.

 Or as they say in Games of Thrones –

Winter is coming!

It is on this isle.

I must write every day – stretch my brain – like- candyfloss.

Chewing on thoughts, words to use,to make this an epic  – poetic -nonacademic,   empty  sweet wrapper to toss,

In the bin.

Environmental awareness is ever so hip and positively in.

For how long, though -we are a fickle lot?

Where to place this word in my head?

Scooby doo comes to mind,

Daphne,

Blonde dude and who was that other one?

He had  a hell of a time conquering his phobia – which turned out to be his career – catching the rising dead?

I’ve heard of challenging yourself but what’s his name -seriously needs a new career counsellor – open up a burger joint or smoke one.

Daisy doesn’t condone drugs, in fact, I am the only person I know that can’t smoke the herb due to the whiff of paranoia that is unleashed from my sensors –

I become that buxom lass who lost a few buttons on her blouse and finds herself – ahem unsexily undone.

I can assure you – it is no fun.

Books, so many books to read………

If only I could inhale books as much as I can inhale food like mead?

Well, drink, eat, whatever- you get my drift……

Oooh, that was spooky.

Did you feel that ice plummeting temperature drop?

It left with the drift.

on its way out,

 I think it whispered boozy I mean breezy .

Did it just call me a floosie?

Goose pimples,

do not want to make me show you my dimples.

I’m being frivolously silly, I do sincerely know it.

I’m having a ball!

In an earthy, grounded way of course. Go get into my extra, bespoke,  vintage flow kit.

Dapper!

Flapper.

Starlight scatter!

I want to live in a world where everything is just, Darling!

Okay – this is getting ridiculous.

I’m sure by now -you are pulling out possible grey hairs,

rolling your eyes,

spitting out  ‘time waster’, snarling.

Okay, folks, I will put you out of your misery –

I recalled the name of that last bumbling, ghost hunter gang banger – my mind is no longer scuzzy.

Are you ready?

His name was Thrummy.

Why are you laughing?

 I know my characters!

Shaggy was the one who did all that banging on the bathroom room floor – butt naked I might add.

I say let it be.

It sure as hell wasn’t me.

I wrote something.  I come bearing gifts…..

Spindrift

A true union of hearts was joined one summer in late  June.

The birds chirruped, the sun shone – the two became one -reflected for all to see by La  Luna- the moon

Air and Water – shouldn’t cross paths. These two elements casually ignore each other in nature’s form-its innate core.

He of Air –

She of Water.

The energy that caused the spindrift was something not even these elements could ignore.

Le Mistral caught up in a steamy, heady mood.

Strode across the sky scowling, blowing curses – chaos surely ensued .

La Mer

– she was winding down for the day.

The tide had come in, and she was ready to listen to a  mermaid wax lyrical her classic tale of Babe Ruth.

The wind so vexed was he – he deafened her with one strike of his herculean hair -clouded by his inability to self- soothe.

La Mer reacted in bad form. He struck her so hard, – her mind swelled up with great licks of waves – crashing and thrashing her mental whereabouts.

Never interrupt an element so passionate about listening to her favorite composer.

Le Mistral and La Mer could ignore one another no more. She would make him feel the repercussions of his foolish, senseless,not-so-well thought out Strop.

Now he would have to face his conjurer.

A tidal wave of thoughts arose inside her. He would pay dearly for interrupting her meditative state of mind.

He had no clue what feud he had started. Fire and Earth were shrewd not to intervene. They knew when to stay out of the way of a combination of this kind.

They witnessed how the passion of this great unforeseen union came to be.

The product of this affront was simply not even what the conflicted two could continue to deplore.

Witnessed by two friends .

 Wind and Water created the very first image of love .

Spindrift -a physical  feeling of exhilaration consolidated the two .

They were now ready for a new adventure – together -ready to  explore each other, become the couple -who looked to the other with eyes that said ‘j’t‘adore.

Definitions for spindrift

  1. spray swept by a violent wind along the surface of the sea.

Spindrift is a variant of the Scots spoondrift, with the nautical verb spoon orspoom meaning “to run or scud before the wind.” It entered English around 1600.

DICTIONARY.COM

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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