https://youtu.be/diZEGYsAvJg I used to think my writing was ineligible maybe that was its charm. These days I write more concise cos a guy couldn’t take in more than 300 words of what I wrote. I detest this undercover cop writer fraud Its mind possesses my pen The daily dips in a stream in consciousness […]
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Can’t Promise her a title
Lazily, a tigeress snores into her paws . If only retiring was as simple to rule her inner world.
Curled up in warmth after a stroll into the big wide world,then settle for a quinquennium pause.
Her heart beats.
Nationalists- not even patriots are exempt.
All want to play in their own chord, tighten the strings ,she keeps it together, to satisfy their crucified minds.
In a state of constant – motionless movement.
If not an act of physicality -drill cumbersomely inside her cranium and you will see chemicals and synapses – making up fresh bricks and mortar, to fit in with the latest homemade yeast infused hootchie.
Glance away now, for fear of pitying an evocative attempt to get a rise from it.
Secret plots to charge this queen with treason.
Where will she live?
Her throne burnt to the ground to make way for a newly elected dopamine and serotonin scrupulous , democratic union.
Flags of self-belief – burned infringed – protecting her staked land was all this monarch tried to take into hand.
Defamation – character assassination.
Cloaked – in darkness- rat scuttles past – no pause – it already knows this violated prisoner is barren.
Scars and welts – a confession is sought after by the cardinal living east of the castle manor.
Employed only to instill courage when the most powerful empire seized a chance to escape into heritic souls howling in the wind.
Faith and Hope – not draft an erratic, purple, incensed dogmatic pope .
Dire retribution -execute the one who claims this state is her very birthright.
Clubbed to her knees – she will crawl not humbly- you shall hear her plea.
She wants to make them a better nation.
It’s her biggest exclamation.
Out plotted by her very own court – bribed by cheap whores-given away by the roughness of their hands, dressed up as expert courtesans, who clearly have seen at least one day of sun.
Intoxicated by some amorphous potion.
Formalyhde doused in cleaveaged lace dresses – it was not her initial notion.
A scented air of burning flesh
A greek tragedy indeed.
Scorned by her very owns subjects . She may be longitiduely dimintitive but she refuses to be bullied into showing them that wanted emotion.
Defeatist attitude does not a fit queen make.
Words in a precise order do not prize a piece of art,
so clearly a fake.
Forgiveness is her only weapon. She won’t see her country be overrun by zealous creachers.
It would appear her subjects wish to prove that she is illiterate.
Tortured, holding her breath under water to procure a confession – let her reiterate.
The crown is made to fit one head – It is symbolic and vaporizes with her when she exhales all energy and is varnished as dead.
Look how you’ve turned on one another – in the pursuit of power. It is a notorious illusion.
To master control over all subjects requires more than an iron-clad fist and an outraged dalliance to declare outright confusion.
Compassion,
nurture,
recognition and honor are what she offers,
accept these as the wealthiest of gifts.
Only a fool would scream,
‘Off with her head‘ -a face full of sour lemons and a lust to frazzle the last tether.
The Noblest of causes – so much bloodshed – look into her bloody, vein threaded eyes.
She hasn’t slept for weeks in her fight, to appease all those in famine, hungry and underfed.
She needs no steering Regent to aid her in her duty.
All she demands is loyalty and valor.
With you all at her side ready to conquer life’s copious battles,
we shall not go down .
your hearts will not know the true grief inflicted made up of another community of arrows.
we shall not waiver.
Trust in your queen to walk as a stout cripple ,duty bound to protect and hold it all together.
The Rage
Rage incensed unfurled by the scent of the Unsaged.
The Wisest fool, I know.
Marked with your own hands
let your vapid swimming champion attempt to have a go
Let you paw my naked flesh
blue rinse.
Touch me up and make me think I wanted you for sex.
I don’t give a fuck!
Get out my of my head, black-mouthed dog.
I got my hands sullen – fresh paint can’t hide your taint revolving around my mind.
I write with these hands because I don’t know what else to do if I sit with my thoughts
what else will I find?
Paranoid thoughts, I was doing just fine.
Soul crooners lull me into an artificial lullaby.
Black soul
desperate to pull the remainder of my smile -on the down line.
Graphic infatuation, little girls grow up. I put my hands in the air.
My new escapism became you
There is no edge about you
indeed your toxicity is your strongest flair.
On the border screaming – furry fury cloaks me.
You took advantage, you sick fucking spatial wasted amoebic basket case.
Slap you, disgrace you.
Shame you.
You took advantage and to hell with you.
I suffer still because I let you have me.
No regrets? fuck that – knowing you live is the cord around my neck.
Choke me, pollute the air -in my world. it’s not fair.
No, life ain’t fair.
Break. it. down.
Trace my heart – find a pulse – wearing my heart for all to show -has led to this current plumous demise.
Despise – I’m spitting mad.
You think you got me had?
Leave my mind – cybersex or sext with the one with the most milkshakes accumulating in her breasts.
I back away -Every.Single. Day.
My greatest doubt is you.
My biggest mistake was believing you -believing in you.
I’m bored. I’m tired. I feel like you’ve drawn out the last pint of blood from my veins.
Silence your kind.
Judge not those who seem a reflection of myself.
Your kind is everything that drags me into the knockers pit – I know about that mine.
I know the rules now.
Not worth it. Wasted.
Not worth recycling.
If I see you again count on a different primitive play out.
You ain’t no clever clogs – your seduction techniques consist of stirring drunken lust.
You can’t even get your playmate up – he so broke – he to lame to even cough up and say I’m bust
See my belly button? I ain’t your mommy – there ain’t no umbilical cord,
Snap out of this maced crowdy place.
Am I losing it because of a hillbilly with a familiar face?
Contravene – isophane
Get out of my mind.
Tickets for you – you need to pay hundreds in fines.
Here’s the unpolitical correct version – may your mind be haunted and possessed by the very wrong deeds you have done with your own venomous spew.
I hate you. I hate me. I hate that I let you get to me.
Immigrant? I’d rather be that than insignificant. who are you?
Who are you?
No metamorphosis fly buttering around.
Comparisons to what I have tossed away to one side.
If I end up in a grave with a tag on my toe.
Please, family, don’t own me. Call me Jane doe.
Such is the embarrassment for the one I almost gave up breathing – you so shallow – you so low,
then I realize you want to have that effect – crazy bastard. Your mind ain’t correct.
How can I erase your dirty fingernails and unwashed face from my skin?
How could I let you touch me – lusted after you? You dear, are not my sin.
Lost and a wandering always flock to the same ravine.
I’m not gonna drown in here -with you the last thought on my mind
We all a bit crazy – you crazier than your previous generation of malignant space heads.
Fuck you. Fuck this – potions brewing. I’m on my way to Haiti to instil a dose of voodoo – you hoodoo – foo do – mush brain processed tin canned – factory-made – reset the defaults – you haven’t got a clue.
You think you some Who?
Have I told you lately I have some news for you?
the Meowskies
She gets on with life as a wannabe music journalist,
She’s a charismatic kinda gal.
She likes chilling on Sundays,
She likes reading in the week.
She likes to contemplate owning a goat.
But when she starts to daydream,
Her mind turns straight back to her cat-Tatty Anna
Sometimes I look at her and I look into her eyes,
I notice the way she idolises about Tatiana with a smile,
sensual lips she can’t disguise.
But she thinks it’s GOAT making her life worthwhile.
Why is it so hard for her to decide which she loves more?
Goats or…
Cats?
She likes to use words like ‘eish man
She likes to use words like ‘sorry.’
She likes to use words about GOAT finds
But when she stops her talking,
Her mind turns straight back to Tatiana having a heart attack.
She likes to hang out with Pinkie
She likes to kick back with Belle,
But when left alone,
Her mind turns inwards she obsesses over losing her Tats
She’s not too fond of gossip,
She really loves cheesecake & wants a goat
But she just thinks back to Tatiana
And she’s happy once again. knowing she is owned.
Words are my moonshine
When you feel you’re hanging on the vine,
Remember- a seed push forth a mighty sign.
You must take the sunbeams and treasure what’s thine
Wild Kansas City is but one destination on the sign.
Take hope, light and lose the animosity,
for inside you, there is no monstrosity
Get caught speeding in high velocity.
It’s not a train smash — nor a catastrophe.
When you’re stuck in the middle of time.
Jump off the fence ‘cos that’s doing yourself a crime.
Don’t you let commoners think your words cannot define,
Your value, worth and dreams are not benign.
Take it from the apple tree
He allows fruit to aid in his victory.
Oh don’t, hide like a willow tree
Cry, but remember you have a destiny.
Everything will start to — lookup — allow the clouds to throw some shapes.
Open them wide , mind expand — understand the lessons from life’s true greats.
You’re already one them-slightly chipped — still most valuable of porcelain plates.
Never doubt what you can do — take a leaf from natures golden ratio
You radiate when you guide the fates.
Lets’ lasso this up and keep your spirit wild
Grow tall — never lose your inner child.
A silly poem to spread to the crowd
Accept her quirks — light-hearted, silly sap — never lose a day when she has smiled.
*I Iwas inspired by the song ‘This little light of mine’. live, love, don’t hold as grudge. Remain true to who you are and you won’t stand alone for long.
i
Hermit Hymn take two
*Revised draft- still needs work *
I write about the hermit hymn
He often takes me by the hand.
A fan falls
Lost to gravity
The one used to navigate the wind.
Pushed forward without marking my body.
Resurrected
Motivation forages forgotten seeds of Hope
planted for those days stippled in downs more than ups.
This son of a bastard pulled out the brazen Sol –
relief shears luminous laments
Luna wanes with a weary wave in retreat.
Arouse an Apollonian Deity within.
Hermit hymn’s voice
gazes upwards
Caught mid glare – blinded by
In sight
Overhears cuckooing of winged creatures
Caught a fleeting glimpse of freedom.
This knowledge found in bare-faced trees
Stem cell life routing for immortality.
Presume the recluse lives in my muted shadow.
Contactless views his
Sobe sidewalk into a growth spurt epiphany.
He who wears the hallow
make a final empty ditch attempt at shirking the namesake of ‘the chosen’ one.
unsynchronised dubbed over mouths crucify
Pitched sounds for this smoke effect bellow:
Can I get a proper score?
Few focus on his fallen wings
Clipped of clarity
Unable to seek an alternative
Many fall for the look of familiar skin.
That ole devil called love
Billie holiday thanks for the speckled dove.
Facile to caress only what we wish to know.
Highs & lows
hi’s and by’ es
High light the remains
A pint of Bitter froth flees on a one thought train track
How the sun shine when it comes out.
Belief blossoms bypass tunnel vision mood congestion tax fee out of respect.
Life
Depart from the babble of Doubtful
Thoughts
Far fromVapid
Merely short-sighted when grey-bearded clouds appear
stubbled by the 5 o clock shadow
Paradigm stunted growth
tuned out dense cosmos responsible for feeling dim.
A connection to a reflection.
Innocence contrast moments heckling: we don’t deserve to move forward.
Clandestine cloaks conceal our original sin.
This ongoing duet I sing with a feminine hymn
scintillates my belly until I feel the fire lit again from within.
( Still needs a lot of work- over thought this too much 😦 )
Filly, mare,stallion -acrostic
HORSES
My 7-year-old daughter’s version
H ow the horses smell like a barn
Our horses like to trot
Realise something, where a horse comes into your house
Sour horses get sick
Elephant came to talk to Mrs Horse
Sour horses run for water after drinking sour juice
My husband’s version
Heavy is the head that wears the mane
Over hedges, one did ride
Rivers & Meadows one did trot
Sugar cubes are such delight
Ever a field an old man strolled
Such is the life of a horse so old.
My version
Have you ever fled from a nightmare?
Or realised that your slumber is your living yoke?
Rode more knights than kings or Queens?
Evade the question. hoping to secure your pedigree
Signed off with a neighbours kiss.
untitled
Inundated with love & affection
still chose to perforate all scar tissue encore
Lover left
without money
Again
midnight summons a portion of scruples to perform
to
a bowl of shredded paper cut of the imminent dawn.
Twice bitten abecedarian poem
A twice bitten man shy tortured in an encounter with his tye.
Every seen a crystallized heart shatter?
Ricochet fresh flesh of four chambers?
Stained bloody by his past lover’s hand
Sodden & trodden by a call to “man up”
Pump up depleted testosterone to counteract the shame.
Even though a trampled heart was not his own doing.
Grievously body harm. It was a gift given
Not by a temptress nor a malicious entity by nature.
Ergo two hearts vowed to be one soul
Living as a unit. Love of life was their goal.
Loneliness to combat. Fated to be mortal.
Revealed their sealed vows together in front of a chosen crowd
Dramatic entrance. One heart faltered .
Death was invited to observe the day
Yesterday’s reminder of the shell of who once was.
Death reminded all that life is fleeting. Unpredictable.
Everyone but maybe one didn’t grasp the significance
Empty on reality. Thankful for ‘mothers little helpers’
Songs of blue accentuated the highs.
Hopeful for love to remain true.
Ever hope to love truly but wonder whether you do?
Obviously caught up in the fervour and knowing the right thing to do.
Obviously ignoring common sense. Abandoned security for a chance leap declared impulsive.
Daisy in the willows 