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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

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.

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?

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

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.

My True penny

I’m taking back my power.

I’ve got my ammo and my gun powder.

I’m not going to use it cos I’m more of a peace than a ‘fuck you -let’s bomb you to oblivion’ type of  person.

I have realised that  to allow someone who thinks nothing about me to have so much power to lure me into a paralysed state of persuasive perversion is:

 True insanity. I have my true penny and that is what counts.

I pushed him  away like a woman under attack –  I pushed  my lot away – until it formed blood clots on the insides – comparably sized to mounting a  herd of elephants.

unwilling to be ridden- trunks raised up, irate – exploding in  shouts.

I started to talk about what goes on in my head and my true penny told me that we all makeup scenarios in our minds, to make sense of the lives and situations we come across, in this world of an  uncertain,  never-ending skyline.

I thought I was losing it.

I thought I  was obsessed.

Turns out my brain works out  my issues based on characters and story lines and other  shenanigans.

Crazy?  maybe but creativity strokes  the  beat with a brush  –  I feel there is  almost a genius to be found walking on this fine line.

Swastikas and Reds are not my idea of interior decorating.

Tearing down my  walls.

One little Nazi’s thought is not going to make me come down to that kind of level.

I have my life.

 I am the queen of my disco.

I have retro  roller skates on .

 The sun is my Disco ball.  I’m on the rooftop, in the light-beaming under the  rays.

Not hiding in the dark, under the influence,an imposter.

A star that can’t twinkle, dishevelled – so shady – a back turns away –  It’s the one known as the  blue devil.

We are on two separate  paths –  I notice  the screams of a   shaken baby.

A rattle spins across the floor – Dummy dribbled with garbled spit.

I guess mommy is right when she says: ‘You always want what you can’t have’

It’s not infatuation, love or anything like that – This baby is  having a tantrum – she  didn’t get what she  wanted .

She  didn’t even get a maybe.

I’m done slithering  on my belly across damp floors.  Waiting for the next Gestapo, soot-stained  boot to squelch  me.

Turn out my guts until, all you can see is the insides of me- a sore sight of  limacine.

Phantom limb syndrome – I am back from the  war of past, oppressive obsession.

  I’m awake.

 Clarity.

Nightmares were all I had to grieve over.

 I didn’t lose any limbs. Only my inner self- belief .

 I’m a china teapot lady – I’m done  trying to find happiness in a person who happily  lives  life drinking out of cups made of polystyrene .

 The present is my greatest gift.   I’m not wasting another second wishing on  dreams that we can be friends.

My heart is my greatest ally and foe. It makes me work.

Dwarves getting their hoes to do all the work – chasing fairy dust ,  axe- picking fights with one another, to grow in a place under a roof of  artificial light.

Genuine and melodic – true light – mountain breeze is the only place I will find a place to atone.

To make amends.

Let it go and go with the flow

I stand before the world smiling – unashamed – this is my show.

 

SHOUT OUTS AND AWARD NOMINATATONS TO FOLLOW

 

Kooky heart

Oh how did this happen to me
The girl from some other foreign city?
Wiley enough to make a plan.
Cunning and soft of heart -all my eggs bled before the start of labour
Before the sun came up.
Hide all pain,
all the blood clots in her smiles.
She would koo koo
again
for her soul was of one who couldn’t quit even when they shouted: She’s already dead.No need for an off with her bed hair beheaded mentality
Signed
Ex oh ex oh
Kooky heart