Turquoise Monster

I want to be free but without loosing those who tethered
I want to be without pain but not without sensation
I want to achieve what I can see without killing what I can’t
I want to lose the fear of the dark without loosing empathy
I want to solidify my dreams without crystalising the nightmares
I want to seek the stories of me without fear of the adventure
I want to hear the words without fearing the truth
I want to loose control without the danger of life
I want to sing the heart without breaking the mind
I want to fear the sensible without being petrified
I want to scream to the hills without the echos within
I want to be me… without scaring you.

I am an orange ball
Bouncing up and down
Bright and glaring
Guiding others
Showing them how to sing
This song
An important song
I start by building them
Cell by cell
Until they are free
Then I feed them
So they grow
And learn

I am an orange ball
Sometimes they sing high
And sometimes low
Sometimes the note
Is broken
Cracked
But I keep going
A momentum
That pulses with love
One day
They will not need the ball
But shall sing life’s
Chorus on their own
Maybe they will remember
A little orange ball.

They killed the poem with over punctuation
Licking wounds with ticks and commers
Bullet wholes peppered the corpse
Fulle stops bleeding holes of stattico gun fire
They cut the flesh from it leaving a skeleton of stark meaning
Intracasies in a depth of deep meanings
It was sadly edited into a shallow grave

What of the sound that built the word?
What of the word that built the story?
What of the story that built the concept?
What of the concept that built the world?
What of the world that built the people?
What of the people who built the sound?

Just a girl broken, small
Just a girl smiling faintly
Just a girl tearful, restrained
Just a girl hurting
Just a girl no one on her own
Just a girl full of hate
Just a girl seeming insane
Just a girl on her own
Just a girl longing
Just a girl numbed by the shout
Just a girl locked within
Just a girl seeking
Just a girl in pain
Just a girl reduced to shadow
Just a girl frail ghost
Just a girl crying
Just a girl hiding from self
Just a girl on emotional overload

My heart is imprinted with stark lines
Grooved with ware and chipped on the many edges
Love the life blood oozed into the channels
And trickled in an endless march down
Sticky drops coagulated in mounds
Building columns of gore – a store of memories
Tossed to the ground
Piles of shredded dreams
Skittered in the wind of hope
As it gusts into a palatable storm.

It was my husbands birthday
He was 34 when they came a knocking at the door
We expected Avon or Betterware
Instead three kids stood there
“Excuse me could you take our kitten please
No sir it aint a tease
Our mum says we’ve got to move soon
We’re going to share a room
We thought it would be okay
But she got a message today
They say we can’t take little kitty
They say kittens are too shitty

Well what could we say to that?
We resigned ourselves to owning yet another cat
Later that day their mum brought round
All the cat bits she’d found
Whilst packing up her family to go
And I pondered on the man that made this so
The man who lives in a great big home
Sitting on his privileged thrown
Telling this family on my block
How their lives are full of excess and rot
When all they’ve ever done
Was the best that they could
But bedroom tax
Is just for the lowest of income
Swinging millions over the edge
Of an already precarious balanced ledge
Surely our leaders should do some sums
And take their heads out of their bums
Cos at least they could move
Many can not and are stuck in a rut and a groove
A groove that forever deepens
The deal that for self serving millionaires only sweetens
The rich get richer and the rest get poor
I wonder what other treats they’ll have in store
Our kitten was a victim of the bedroom tax
Come on sense it needs to be axed!

A sea of words
bounded by a shore of concept
Towers built
of language
Flash out meaning
Standing on the island of convention
saving the would be drowned
In vessels of knowledge
seeking the catch of inspiration
Looking to the horizon for ideas

I wonder what it would have been?
This life not on my own
A companion from my earliest days
Would you have been pleased with me?
What would you have looked like?

I miss you
I’ve craved you all my life
Looked for you in my earliest days
Not content on my own
Never on my own

Because I was not alone
Not at the beginning
Before the world
You were there
A companion
Where did you?

Did I do something wrong?
Condemned to seek
What I knew should have been
Where you scared?
I know I am
Life is hard
Did you know that?

You abandoned me
Before our birth
Left me alone
I almost followed
Sometimes I wish I had
For now I am always alone

Jean’s wellys are rather smelly
As she wont wear her socks
So when we go walking
She gets blisters the size of rocks
But what’s worse is those blisters burst
And she expects to be nursed!
With a wail and a whimper
It’s home we flitter
Meaning poor mummy ain’t gonna get no fitter!