Blog Archives
I am
I am the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.
Wonders if my life purpose is to laugh and tease.
I hear the hair raising scream
I see the barbed wire , a body electrocuted two feet away from my mortal skin
I want to avert my eyes – It never happened , pretend all is okay.
I am the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.
I pretend to be helpless
I feel I repeatedly sin. Stuck in a mind that can’t learn from mistakes.
I worry the world is passing me by, time doesnt care if I can’t leave the past to drift off out of peripheral vision.
I cry because I am to blame for feeling insignificant.
I am the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.
I understand my insight is a double edged sword
I say I have courage yet honestly I’m not sure how much.
I dream to travel away from the houses visited each slumber night. Subconscious give me solitide.
I try to be funny, charismatic and loyal.
I hope the people I hold dear to me won’t leave me
Though I suspect they will.
I am the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.
I am daisy
Daughter of Rose
Who needs love, loyalty, laughter
Who loves music, silence, decadence
Who sees lonely people, people better off, empty glasses once full of hope
Who hates curves on herself, being misunderstood, bad odour
Who fears abandonment, rejection, gossips too
Who dreams of career growth, success, beauty to blossom from within
Who has found forgotten poems, memory gaps, words unable to recognise as her own
Resident of no fixed abode
Willows
Garden Fascinator
Write to be something I’m not feeling.
Not nothing
A sense I’ve lost details planning how to plot.
Stand mid-sentence
tongue ties all thoughts
Need a referendum to figure what to prioritize first.
These are my words
They grow like weeds amongst the Garden fascinators.
Smoke break
Every
Every time I write down words,
Ending in a half sentence with no meaning like this one.
Eventually the reader will realise I’m taking the Mick.
Every single word on this page
Each one is absolutely pointless.
Egg me on, I dare you
Especially as I’m clearly hard to ignore because you’re still reading this.
Elements are as tangible as these words transpired with indefinable clarity.
Ergo I must now go
Evening awaits , I anticipate clear skies
Early morning we’ll need to say our goodbyes
Evidently we all have lives to live. Thanks for reading this load of sh**.
Mumms the word
I’ve tried to epitomise my mom-in a few words. No easy feat to do.
Mom
a la mode
Bang on-trend
a Panache for transforming a lifeless neck scarf into an haute couture piece -an eye for detail that makes you a formidable fashionista Godsend.
Finesse in all you do: from baking bananas loaf’s salad Nicoise or cauliflower cheese.
Woe, the day a chef attempts a bake-off with you for he’d lose his hat, all his stars and wail, mamma Mia what a mistake ah I make a. I must have caught some disease.
Self-sufficient -you can lift your bed on your own, fix your dryer, paint your home, fix the boiler. Your tenaciousness growls especially when your body dares groan: please take it slow!
Talented at reinvigorating my moods with that eccentric, warped wit.
An example: the time you thought it would be fun to pay for me to get my entire face threaded. You laughed at my pain.
I love our giggles-the side-splitting snorts are hilarious to watch and hear. It takes me back to our flare nostrils days. Who could make each other laugh first?
Your loyalty towards me astounds me, your unwavering love for me confounds me, your forgiveness impels me,
Life gives us many hard knocks -your heart nor face betrays your past pain. It reveals your altruistic complexion. A reflection of your heart. When you give you to do so freely without seeking to gain.
I’m in awe of your spiritual journey. You think I’m not remotely interested in your opinions & sentiment. Your faith is truly remarkable- a tangible contrast to your ethereal temperament.
Remember how you tell me to straighten my crown, the world is in the palm of my hand?
Remember numbers do not define a person’s character, beauty or ability to achieve greatness. I see the talent and potential within you. You should/could become an interior decorator. No age or number can dictate your dreams, hopes, aspirations and goals. The skies the limit.
Happy Birthday, mom.
I love you xxxx
Melody of those in the Same boat
My cow bells are a little bit off par
My serenade seemingly won’t separate the stars
They’re dying
Earth bound
Trees won’t surround my natural state of being.
Everything I feel
My inner sight.
I’m meant to be singing a stream of consciousness of my inner plight
To gloat I’m on another planet.
If only I knew how to consistently cope
In this moment
In this dimension
I might have a bit of hope.
A full fleshed 3 D character would awash with the flostam
Starting from the Knee deep creeping up to reveal my fragile throat.
I’m you, man.
You are me, men and women.
We’re all floating in the same boat.
Different directions
In water we still get soaked.
A place we try to fathom
No .
stake as our own.
If not to deem ours authentically
Then atleast to titillate to titivate
With a decorum of sensuality
Melody of the same boat
My cow bells are a little bit off par
My serenade seemingly won’t separate the stars
They’re dying
Earth bound
Trees won’t surround my natural state of being.
Everything I feel
My inner sight.
I’m meant to be singing a stream of consciousness of my inner plight
To gloat I’m on another planet.
If only I knew how to consistently cope
In this moment
In this dimension
I might have a bit of hope.
A full fleshed 3 D character would awash with the flostam
Starting from the Knee deep creeping up to reveal my fragile throat.
I’m you, man.
You are me, men and women.
We’re all floating in the same boat
Different directions
In water we still get soaked.
A place we try to fathom
No .
stake as our own
If not to deem ours authentically
Then atleast to titillate to titivate
With a decorum of sensuality
Not a suicide kid
Time stands still
Waiting for my child
To pick her up from her school.
Locked out
I’m no fool
Schools not meant to be cool.
Just another institution
Similar to a prison.
My constitution was made to rebel
For a cause
Less
Waiting around on top.
Never thought I’d glimpse a shadow of my former self -over the hill.
Curse these minutes.
Frozen into a state of blissful ignorance.
Wrapped up into a stationary kit.
Sigh
Sudden bowel movements
I feel ill.
Bad humour lost to a desolate sky.
Simmer into another ghetto outfit
Sparse Sunshine shimmer flecks
Until my skin unravels into motion.
For this moment
I’m not a suicide kid
Instead, I’m knocked out
By a dead dong ringer
Them there eyes
Catch sight of her eyes.
How they glimmer!
* inspired by the school run & national poetry day & Life
I’m genuinely happy to be alive. Not because life is perfect today but because I’m happy, humble and honest.
-
Write to recover
-
Create to recover
-
Communicate to recover
-
Connect to recover
-
Collaborate to recover.
If blue was a hue
If shades came in pigmented blues
Would the world recognize the significance of colour as opposed to hues?
Would living in colour stop it’s either this or that?
Would grey get a chance to convince us to investigate?
Would crashing into a slick navy
crude and lost at sea,
Inspire old fashioned candy knots to carry us all back to safety?
If black wasn’t so noir
Would fashion dictate less to those in the savoir?
Would flags become less patronizing?
and white flags more entrancing?
A hue is a hue by its very name
A colour can decide to change and play – a child-free game.
Rich reds
Glorious Greens
Would we see who profits from wealth – would we want to change this scene?
Would hearts come together under a purple strewn night?
Lovers take pleasure dancing in the rain, see each other in a different light?
Emotional attachments are often aesthetically pleasing
Only to the one who is eyeballing the muddied one’s high pitched squealing.
Clarity of light sought in souls and not in places of questionable heaven.
Admirers eyes to skies
Solid legs still rooted in the ground
Unifying all genders of brethren.
How wealthy we are to have a landscape of colour
Don’t ignore its beauty in the search for another.
Love less -a pense poem
I’ve never done this type of poem. The format is straight forward.
Title 2 syllables
Description 4 syllables
Action is 6 syllables
location 8 syllables
ending 6 syllables.
And the final rule is that it can’t rhyme
LOVE LESS
it won’t hurt much
scrub off the scent of his odour
bleach the bath with your morning shit
love costs more heartache
Passion less magical
Cats demand cuddles
A clean page soaked in wasted words written in yellow ink
The music falls on deaf ears
Unread unopened books will let me down – or will it be my imagination?
I glance around the room of despair comfortably numb for three hours until a child smiles for her mom’s unfounded fears.
Untitled
so inept by a blackened imagination
colours wither away, winter outsmiles
stilled yet not frozen. those exhiled frowns en route stragglers exhiled to Siberia.
I’m desperately desolate that these nightmares took the by pass . Limits to hope of revelling in reality once more spring
bursts into a yawn , light stretches worn out clinging onto last winter’s stained sweater.
A scream demands tending to kettle whistling for it’s masters attention
it begs summer to part with mercy & grace
so inept by a blackened imagination.
