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Queen of Tristesse

Stone cold.
I sit in silence.
Tears betray the death of Another beating heart.

Distant to my heartache.
Love is meaningless accented by meaningful Nuances.

Hunger strikes, I’m alone With the pangs,
Unsure if I want to feel the Caress of familiar hands

Or

If I’d rather escape to a Nether land.

Conjuring Magicians
Ready to sell inconspicuous potions.

Allow me to flee from my Skin.
Threaded by veins
Morose in temperament.

Aloof to the consequences Of escaping this reality.
Complicit to the sadness That shrieks in my Gut: Pierced spleen.

It’s not nearly as stomach Able as watching the Chambers of my heart in My hands

Weep.

For the moments tangled In lust.

The desire to be a part of Someone else’s sun.

To inhabit their orbit.

Study the stars
Share butterfly kisses
Break free into a wild run.

Freedom is a state of Mind.

Release me from the Bonds of this exile.

I am the hunted.
I am the hunter with the Blade ready to attack.

This is my vessel.
My only means to move forward.

Cut the strings for this Puppet will not be coerced To dance nor sing,

Until I find a simple hymn.

One to attest that another Mortal respects I am more than my sin.

Words hurriedly apologise to recapture that soul

Spotted

in the glimmer of dawn
It cowers fearful deep
Within.

Have a piece of my heart.
Have a piece of my words.

Sully not my thoughts to Taint my heart with more Leacherous poison.

I am breathing

Merely existing to find out how to win.

This is Life’s charade.
The cards dealt with each hand.

Thanks to Gaia for I have Both intact.

Able to use my body.
Able to use my mind
To forgive.

Though,
Not give in.

The melancholy of my
Aura glitters like a Midas Collectible
When it touches the man I call my king.

The weight of this gloom Thunders over me.

Cajoling me.

Repressing my desire to Quit
Killing myself.
Smile authentically. Blossom again.

It ’s not time to hide under sand beds
Muted into making me think I’m still not thin,

Enough.

These words don’t do Justice
To how I truly feel.
I lose people I love.

Gain friends who form a circled ring around me.

I have to reach out.
Allow a hand to bring me Full circle.

Alone,
I contemplate.

Fighting for the thud in my Heart.
Fighting for another hot Flushed blush.

Wondering
If I have already died.

Is living not for the likes of My kind?

Am I here to exist glibly?
A ruin of poorly
constructed pyramids?

I sit here in silence , Blowing out smoke rings
Made
Out
Of
My
Woes.

I’m the queen of Tristeness.
My position is to not give in.
(Queen of Tristesse part of the ‘Be happy or die trying chronicles)

God is a Narcissist

Intolerant society.

Living in a belly-fighting off bacteria
Begging other intelligence to disembowel us

Before
Hatred’s tsunanima floods our irrigation system of morals.

No lives matter.Nazi’s aren’t the only few crazier than Mercuries Mad Hatter.

Everyone has an opinion.
Every Judy thinks they are entitled to a Punch – no need to be drunk.

No justice
infers we can’t learn violence is a domino effect.
Cause and effect
ripples from skidding stones.

Balance in humanity
artifially inseminated tinnitus
is the reality.

We look to archaic verse in the Testament that
‘ an eye for an eye’
is as natural as witnessing two beasts bin active fornication being violated.

Our instinct

Our emotions show us we are alive.
We feel we must feel — we have to feel to carry a vigil of hope

Godless goddess installed a program of free will.
A Divine sign?

Why not take back this privilege?
Why make n imperfect world full of sublime, then lure us out with the promise of sporadic sunshine?

Caters to the needs of every breather, every ecosystem.
No need for adulterated theft.

God is a Narcissist.

Why would someone with such power sit back and watch us destroy one another?
Fuck the lies, the parables,
Jesus dying for our sins?

His resurrection dragged through centuries of blasphemous leaders chanting idolific hymn.
In the name of Ignoratious Barkus Dogma.

Religion – organised to control the masses
Sniff out to snuff out the submissive odour- of terrorism.

Bombs

Nuclear weapons.

fists connecting with human bodies

Unlicenced rifles blasting into chunks of beasts flesh.

Rights?
Who is right?

We’re in a goblins  game lost in a maze

They have the eduction to translate to us
cuts to every department.

Global
Division.

Revision .
This is a prison.

When Suicide is a man’s motive to rise to the heavens and receive a reprisal.
Then it is a given.
God is a narcissist.

Jesus was a shoddy carpenter. Check out my gate.
A whore mopping up brows is the only tangible part of this story I find plausible.
Give me a sign!

suffering to this extent is for an entity pantomime.

A gathering On Mount Olympus of Enlightened gods who never miss an episode of planet earth.

Darkness   reveals a screen
A  dismal form of the masses. These pupils— dilated, babble out  words of freedom

Freedom to insult ,
Freedom to obliterate ,
Freedom to disfigure,
Freedom to impregnate,
Freedom to live in contempt.

A society bloated, heaving up piles of excess.
Anarchy doesn’t mean terrorisation.
Revolution is for the mighty hearts.
Revolution is for a shift in consciousness from inequality for the many in parts.

Race,
Gender,
Sex.

We all deserve to be on the earth offender register.

Why do we obey ungovernable laws ?
We take our grievances into our own hands.
How can there be justice?
When her namesake fails us with a well-practised pose of inverted corruption?

Born in navigation mode,

We’re grappling at pockets of hope to Trust in humanity.

Live by your true North

Live by your inherent moral compass .

Especially if life decrees a sentence of physical deformity;
Don’t look to the sky for an answer.
Don’t look to a man with free words dribbling down his jumper.

Don’t tear down statues that can’t fight back.
There is no sense in joining hands with this vicious pack.
We all have it wrong.
Every. Single. One. Of. Us.

God is a narcissist

Hidden behind every face with a  stoic sense of entitlement

 Knitted together from years of oppressive Dogma

Teaching  Seers to

Oversight at what a plight this method of living truly is.

We all need to hang.
Hang our heads in shame.
Enough.

Cut out my heart
See it bleed
Let it bleed …

examine its appearance

understand there is no difference –
we come into the world.

We all rely on another hand for our first feed.
Then we are taught to have a plan B.
Alone, I’m ready to denounce my mammalian side, take my chances, swim against the tide of  sick oceans in one last effort to truly be free
Free from what?

Free From.
Free from hate,
Free from Rhetoric verse spoken lost to a lingering scent of horse manure.
I denounce my own and seek a new home on the basis-I don’t recognize my own kind.
I don’t see a common interest
A goal –

All I see is another foe.
I choke on these words.
Why can’t we learn
I could go on

We have history books showing our true face in good faith.

Nothing is censored.
The age of enlightenment has turned into the stagnant pregnancy of disillusionment.

God is a Narcissist.

Mrs Tersable

Mrs. Tersable had the patience of  Hades with a lengthy dose of blue ball build up  syndrome.

Beans on toast, eaten straight out of  a tin can –  this is not how she was used to living, outside of her comfort zone.

She wore wooly jumpers to cover  the razor sharp teeth piercing through her very own flesh.

She was so gifted in signing off with a  ‘kiss kiss’ and a ‘mwah mwah’  tres AbFab darling

 BBC  Nigella’s  best Italian  dish.

Unfortunate event, she was the kind of lady who had to learn how to suck the devil’s cock. Have her ass smacked  and molded into   a fine knight  mare.

The tragedy in her quest to rise to power in a Patriarchal society took a heavy blow on a high voltage setting ,following a trail  to the bully matriarch beatbox  competition at ye olde fayre.

She rose in stature  until she hit her own glass ceiling – a rose always  needs to be pruned. All flowers, eventually, lose their fragrance and bloom.

Every season there will always be another eager seedling waiting to come out and steal  her once-signature odorous  perfume.

It’s a lamentable world we live in when the people who are meant  to be  teachers and mentors,

refuse to listen to their own apprentice or student who  listens , then questions the station ranked  above.

Not all students  climb this far to then  curtsey disabled in  fear, at one vicious bark – all the way on the Yorkshire moors.

What does this say about us as parents, role models, teachers when we refuse to admit our own errors?

We pinch our noses to avoid inhaling one whiff of humble pie, no one saw  you order  a Miss Hannigan chaser.

An associate of those benefit drunks with the DT tremors?

Feedback at any age,gender ,role or title is crucial to evidence   your presence in eternal life learning.

Mistakes are a necessary jigsaw piece to conclude  this game.

It’s not  so much what we don’t say as to how we say it.

Oops, maybe that  15-year-old child shouldn’t have appeared to be marking that essay on the subject of learning to  ‘look  kept while she  is on the game-  earning’.

Bullies come in a plethora of forms – the ones with the sweetest touch can turn on a person like a stye in   the eye.

Manic and wide-eyed .

‘Attention , we  now  introduce you to Sir werewolf faint heart . ‘

His title gives him permission to tear down  the fourth wall but he promptly  decides to use off stage to indicate he has his role – his own part.

So changeable – so  constant.

If it weren’t for experimental  folk, you might believe  that the  very word  had been a word that ‘phantasmagoria -the shouting  star’ ,hurtled down to you from a startling  height in  a –

can you picture it?

A cosmic  sky.

Oh, how  some serfs do like a good old-fashioned backdrop.

Kitchen sink drama – ironing and puffing a cig so soon after a hideous operation tumor  larynx op.

I don’t mind  subjective commentary .

Political and social change is in a state of  osmosis.

Dame Equlibrium!

 Where is she hiding ? be a darling and throw us an adlib  objective  objection – based on some factual,theoretical documentary.

Ego  hypothetically propositioned and the  recent report is he is officially   unwounded.

Id is feeling indulgently  charitable.

Super ego is insulted on behalf of all the marginalized  it  chooses to write about.

Prepared to work with all senses engaged, ready to gain insight and  to ‘show and tell’  how flawed this world truly is .

Just because it says something  black  on white  – doesn’t mean it’s exempt from giving you a bad case of colonic  irrigation ,peppered doubt.

The biggest bullies are the  usual suspect atypical members – they all  have a hidden agenda.

Keep your cool and refuse to cower from the tirade of abuse screamed down the cord of a retro style, dial-up  telephone  – switch  on to radio channel smoothie blender.

Only you can be your greatest ally and defender.

Or,

you could   go on one hell of a  bender.

Never been an option for the author who has fought off more heated bitches in duplicitous  organizations with a questionable gender.

*Inspired by good old fashioned rotten to the core  bullies sitting in apple trees *

She didn’t know

She didn’t know how to give up.

Her greatest ally and her all consuming demise. 

Daisy Willows/Natasha Bodley/GOATS2BDazee/Daisyinthewillows

Musing for today.

Hope you are all doing what you need to get by. Life is what it is.

This song always makes me thing of life in a different way. It’s a bittersweet song that always bring a wry smile to my visage.

Can’t afford to buy into #bluemonday

The title of  this post says it all.

I have could give. (counting my fingers) at least  10 reasons to ignore reality. I’m  a professional at  life -escapism

I’m on uppers and downers.

I’m in debt.

My  Bee (daughter) is ill.

 The sun remains my disco ball.

It’s (literally) beaming rays of  bright yellow  (as I type)

Us humans  are not a dying species. We’re living in oceanspolluted with plastic  and crazy levels acidification

I filled in a form – to

live on plastic to get by.

Tomorrow I’m still going to be here. I make my own fate.

 I’m not a ray of sunshine.

Far from it.

Bees, (buzz) and almost three quarters of   our earthling friends have been driven to extinction.

My  Bee  had a rough night.  At 7 am I let her play ‘Jurassic Park’ on the xbox.

ha! ha! They  are long gone but never forgotten.

My warped sense of humour   has acted  as my currency today.

I count my blessing because   In my life  I’ve been surrounded around   4 kick ass  ladies- all showing  me  different outlooks on Life.

My Mom – A legend!

My Gran  (who passed away from  vascular dementia and Alzheimers  on  Mothers day last year.

 I have to laugh – what a day to leave this world!

Wherever you are Gran – Thank you!

Tati!  I miss my aunt so much. We had some awesome times together. She died of lung cancer in February 2016.  I know that I’m not the only one who misses someone.

I have my Nan (on holiday in South Africa) who dedicated many years of her life and time to me.

My  Dad couldn’t be assed. I love  him,I don’t want wake up -one day – and realise he’s dead.

Je ne regrette rien’.  Edith Piaf

In my heart ,I respect he was a part of the conception process.  And Yeah.. we are human. Whatever!

THANKS DAD!

I digresse/d….

My Nan took on his role when my Mom or my Gran couldn’t.  Today’s moments   of introspection made me realise, that most of the men I have known in my life have been weak, and spineless . I don’t include my male bros  (in my life)

At least they seem it to me. Not saying they are weak all the time. just saying…….

I’m laughing…  if there is a God  (who clapped his hands ,one day and turned chaos into light. His (always look on  the Bright side of life) son could walk on water but..   he can’t fix a gate.

 

My Grandad -RIP –  I have this image of mim making business deals with every God of every religion. He was a brilliant, eccentric character .

I miss him. I wish I paid more attention to his perspective on life when he was still..

..here.

His favourite saying was: IT’S NOT A TRAIN SMASH

(my gaze drifts to look  out my  window, I strain my ears to listen)

 Nope, No rail tracks in sight  nor Choo Choo trains blasting their horns .

Surely the people who are out  on there on their travels  – trains, planes and automobiles-  are more likely to tempt fate than I am……

It’s been a challenge to  focus  on  getting on with life and writing this post….( without another night of  ‘nada’ / o hours of  sleep)

I’ve had to ‘dig deep’ and  not  wrap myself into  from all the crazy shit that’s happening/ has happened

  I’ve   been singing away the blues.

This moment is … is a gift.  This post probably  doesn’t make sense.  I care about loads of – and  far too many. people

At the same time I’m sure I could be doing more to help myself and others.

(my eyes drift  and settle on making out  images of clouds. Moving so  fast )  being true too it’s nature.

We are human beings. Life is tough and the ones who make it are probably…

…on happy pills .

I’m joking ….

Bad joke. I’m on  medication. Loads of tablets.

Does it help?  Sometimes they serve a purpose – then other days I want to give my all and increase my productivity dosage.

The fact  is I’m still here. That’s  good enough for me.

I’m blessed to have a daughter who commands my maternal instincts to protect her.

Many days have  been more creepy carnival   than Mardi Gras   It can be scary and rather  “trippy ” at times.

I stumble about from one task to the next,

..I suppose things could be worse.

Time to    defibrillate  my spirit into exsistance , whilst singing to the song ‘Staying aliiiiive’

Tomorrow is Tuesday.  Fact.

I’m  rather happy to be in the U.K.  for a change-far away from the Twisted  Trump oddity.

Hello ? what is  he thinking  announcing  that he will only allow white immigrants into The U.S of A. ?  The very day communities come together to ,

To unite and pay respect to his  Sir Reverend  Martin Luther  King ‘s day.

He used community and solidarity to  try gain   human rights.

26 years too late..

This has become  a national service day  in the Americas –

Can you believe  people are encouraged to fight war. To serve their country.

War seems (to me) the opposite of Martin Luther Kings goals.  Okay I know about the Black panthers .

Civil war ,slavery….

Approximately two generations after the prohibition ban on alcohal – (top five most addictive drug consumed in the world)

We have the “Millenials” , men , women , young teenagers  being  encouraged to fight about religion ?  (thinking)  the ongoing opiote  war.  Money?

Get behind

#MLKday for “civilians” who keep the true spirit of  Sir Reverend’s  agenda -to create a strong sense of community.

People of all ages, backgrounds, and abilities can get involved. Just fill in your zip code/ postcode  in the Find a Project box to locate a volunteer opportunity in your community or plan your own project.

MLK DAY

1994  -the  year they decided give  national services day to honour   M.L.K.

This is the same year (I watched on the television) Nelson Mandela,  late president  of South Africa being released after  27 years incarceration on Robin Island.

 

RANDOM FACT

Dr. King was arrested 30 times for his participation in civil rights activities. While Dr. King preached about justice, empowerment, love and peace, in the final months of his life, his attention was turned to fighting poverty. Sadly, more Americans live in poverty today than during Dr. King’s lifetime. Forty-seven million Americans currently fall below the poverty line.

SOURCE

So on that note I will sign off with a song close to my heart . The feature pic is my arm with Make Believe -sunshine will follow the rain – tattooed. Not easy to take when it’s on my left hand and I’m  using my right hand.

Hold up, I’m getting into the swing of writing.

yeah, this tattoo is  one of my Mantras/positive affirmations I use to get by. Life  could be worse. I could wake up colour blind tomorrow…..That would suck.

Nevermind…

Anyway..   I needed to write a post to talk myself out of  self wallowing.

I’ve opened   all my existing debt letters  and I will get back to them…

this week.

Here is the song I  love so much. It  is referenced  in a book I’ve read called ‘the Paris wife’ by  Paula Mclain.

AUDIO PODCAST ON HERE

 

I sang away the blues…….

I know it’s not easy for most people. If I come across as sarcastic-

I am. It helps me laugh instead of cry.

Time to hit publish

Over to Nora bayes and a quote from the King.

make believe……(singing) …..-sunshine will follow the rain.   #Words matters