Sunday 23 May 2010

23/05/10

Walk through the spider's web
Let the magic permeate your bones.
Walk the tightrope
Feel your stomach flip
And your feet begin to move
It's a first kiss
It's a second leap
It's the giant teapot of wonder and glee.

Thursday 13 May 2010

09/03/09



Corrr I’m ready to take a bite. I got hot sauce!Twirly twirl twirl. I got my umbrella and I’m ready to go a-travelling wherever the wind will take me. I’ve not washed my hair for twenty seven days and it smells great! The underside feels like a baby deer, mother in tact and an enemy of rabbits everywhere. It’s such a shiny Disney happy world right now. Add a pinch of john waters and a soupcon of me without you angst. We shall not take no for an answer. Meh does not live here anymore. I think I may have ingested some dodgy peppers on my pizza. All hail badgers and their friends!!! But never rabbits cos they kick in their sleep.
I’m watching the lamppost in the aquamarine dusky light. It’s pretty and there are trees and stuff. A place for Ms Poppins to get her knickers snagged. Then she will sit on the windy steps and think of chimney sweeps for a while, before conversing with the birds that live down yonder street. That there rook has some twisted tales to speak. Tap to release the ink reserve. Distant dull ache, it has no place to take hold. Is all too shiny and smooth, like the rocks in the river. Smiley face at the end of each sentence, clap and spin.

Wednesday 12 May 2010

Walking on the Green Hills

Walking on the green hills I met the man made of chalk.
He said to me “where are you going? Come with me I will keep you safe, all you have to do is give me your heart, your spirit and your hot breath upon my brow.”
I reach out to offer my hand, pulling back at the last minute.
I say to him “why do you need my heart? Why do you need my spirit? You can feel my hot breath on your brow, you can feel my heart beating next to yours, and you can feel my spirit soaring through the skies next to yours.”
His eyes fill with tears and he meets my gaze, “I don’t want to feel it, I want to be it. Give them to me and you will never want for anything ever again. I shall keep you safe, I will love you like no other and I will feed your soul with the wind.”
I start to walk away, shouting over my shoulder, “You ask for too much and give too little in return. If I don’t have my heart, how would I feel? What would I yearn for? If I do not have my spirit how can you feed my soul? You would take all of me and give only the basics I need to survive.” I stop and sweep my arms across the land. “How can you deny me all this? How could I deny myself all this? The opportunities in the land and the love of my sisters. All those different possibilities that would pass me by if I gave it all up for a passing whim of yours.”
I move away, out of his reach. I travel along the hills, flirting with the wind as She lifts my hair above my head, a gentle hand in mine, guiding me to solace. I walk and walk, leaving the wind behind, my thoughts too heavy, the green man echoing in my thoughts. Images of how it would be, of the comfort I would feel, security, no fear of the unknown. Acceptance. I see the choices I would make without making them, the sequential line of time that would be my life. Control taken away, yet simple and safe at the same time. He would be my lover but nowhere near my heart. My heart that calls out for complete satisfaction, for the one who excites me both body and mind. I face the sun and reach out, to call my love to me. My voice fails me. I can only mouth the words I want to say. All I can hear is the man made of chalk.
I squat down on a stone. Cold, dead between my legs. I feel the weight of this stone, pulling me with it, the pull of him. I struggle and howl deep inside, my eyes closed, my jaw clenched, wishing for release.
I hear her howl. I hear her cry. The wild woman hunts her prey. I pull her from my inside me, attached by an invisible cord. A cord that can never be broken. A bread crumb path, but a nevertheless a path.
She cloaks me in her strength and leads the way. I drink from her cup; revitalised my eyes open, I see, I see all. She shows me the man made of chalk. She points to the bones of his past, the women he had, the ones at his core. Her hand closes over mine. A key lies bleeding in my hand. I watch in horror, the bile rising in my mouth. This is what he wants from me. The anger, the indignation, the fear, explodes from my core. The games he plays! How dare he! To make me feel, make me think I am nothing without him. To use his weakness as mine. To steal my power, my essence to maintain his. I look at the key; it is just a key, as he is just a man. I toss it away into his mouth and watch as the blood brings the bones alive. As each woman is freed. Each one different and yet the same. All connected to my cord, my call that drowns out the man made of chalk.
We walk hand in hand, past his boneless mind, onto the undiscovered road behind.

Here’s to Hope….

To believing even when it doesn’t look possible


To smiling even when we don’t feel like it


To seeing that small glimmer in the darkest night


To seeing the good in people


To understanding why people do the things they do


To knowing your happiness resides within whatever happens without


To going with the flow


To knowing it’s easier than it feels


To getting what we need rather than what we want


To learning


To forgiving the lessons we were forced to learn


To forgiving ourselves for not learning the first time


To you and to me


To what we know and would have ourselves know


To knowing it’s all good



What's real and what's imagined?
In the moment I am always sure
Always secure
And for a while afterwards I still believe.
But day by day as the silence grows
The petals fall.
It's nightime again
And I'm outside watching foxes,
Not a flower in bloom.

New Wave of Consciousness

Bailing out the lifeboat
faster, faster
But water keeps on returning.
Billions of men in a boat
Let it capsize and ride the wave.
Those of us who know.
Those of us who can swim.
Those of us who don't believe we will stay afloat.
Apart, far from those who don't know.


My soul knows
My soul can swim
My soul will live on
But that way Martyrdom lives


In the Now
This very minute
Sharp jolts of pain in my back
Electrical impulses
Throbbing
Hunger
Nausea
Sour head
When will the sky clear?


I need a friend
I want someone to hold my hand
To guide me as i guide them
Put on roller skates and explore the white hot tremblings of this wave
This Now wave.
Every second counts.


Just a squeeze in the dark
A flash of light to show this is the right direction
I don't see so knowing for sure is hard.


To believe is the best way to know
To Trust
To embrace

A little songage

♪♫ This little heart of mine ♪♫
♪♫ I'm gonna let it shine ♪♫
♪♫ This little heart of mine ♪♫
♪♫ I'm gonna let it shine ♪♫
♪♫ This little heart of mine ♪♫
♪♫ I'm gonna let it shine ♪♫
♪♫ Let it shine ♪♫
♪♫ Let it shine ♪♫
♪♫ Let it shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine ♫♪

*Takes a bow*
Thank you, thank you very much
*Exits stage left*

Wanton Inspiration 13/10/09

My world has been up and down, up at the minute I think. I feel like spilling my guts up on the counter and weighing them in for jelly beans. Or pulling faces at passing drivers while I am on the bus. Normal one minute then tongue out, fingers pulling mouth wide and crazy eyes although not cross eyed cos I can’t do it. Or daring to go outside without my cardi! OH MY, the horror the shock how wanton is she eh? What I need is a straw hat and a cat disguised as a donkey. Urban country bumpkin, high heels and matching eyebrows. Even better would be a huge inflatable bubble. I’ve tried imagining one but doesn’t work so well, greenflies keep getting trapped and dying on my window ledge. There is no emoticon for that.
Saw a man on the bus. Mentally ill I think, he kept swearing and shouting and banging the seat in front of him with his stick. Not nice cos he was very aggressive and I had the unfortunate pleasure of sitting adjacent to him. Even with my music full blast I could hear him. Hurt my ears it did, esp the right one which was closest and the muff is missing off that earphone.
So yes if you’re interested I am up for grabs. Take me and do what you will. I’m made of plasticine so you can remodel me to resemble anyone you like, even a cake if you wish (shush Glowey). Make something out of this car crash; I am all out of ideas. They all centre around badgers.
Got the tattoo sourcebook from the library yesterday morning. Returned it in the afternoon. The best way to choose a unique tattoo is to choose one that isn’t in a book. No flaming skull eating wotsits for me oh noe! It’s all cheetos from here on in. Or more likely red mill cheese puffs cos they are two for a quid in farmfoods. You should all come shopping with me. I am great at picking out gifts for people I have never met. One day I am going to go to tesco and do a fantasy shop. Fill a trolley up with all the good stuff then just abandon it. Pretty cruel cos the staff will have to put it back and ice cream will melt so there’s a good reason not to do it... or maybe just steer clear of the fridge and freezer sections. See even in my madness I refuse to waste food. Don’t care much for ice cream anyway; it would not be on my fantasy shopping list.
I’ve got a sty on my eye. It hurts. No make up for me for a while. Naked face all the way and I’m not wearing any knickers.

..

The panic rising. All the good things I tell myself being swallowed into the gulf of my twisted heart. Will they emerge later in truth or are they being strangled and choked by the fear? Here I stand under the full moon, a little girl, scared and lost. Bad things happen to good people all the time or is it bad things to bad people and I am not good. I am not good. I am not worthy. I am good. I am worthy. Reverse psychology. Never the right time or the moment has passed. The compass is spinning, which direction is the right one. My whole self being eaten from the inside until there is nothing left but a dry empty shell. Caving in on myself, where’s the foot pump. People trying to draw me out. Can they smell the decay or are they the life savers. Help comes from the strangest places. Who is that knocking at the door?

For my sisters cosmic an' all

Passion ignites and the only release is to call my sisters hither and embrace the wild river within.
Drill a hole through this dam.
Let me see, let me hear your pain, your laughter, your anger and your love.
It's all good and it's all you. You are all good.
The light flavours the dark and the dark favours the light;
searching, seeking calling your name.
Show it the way home.
Let it rest.
Cover it over with a blanket of light.
Let it permeate and absorb.

Thinkin'

It’s about love
Not about finding someone to love cos people leave, move on, die etc.
It’s about being happy with the person you’re left with
When it’s just you and the urban fox, late at night

Dream a little dream of me in the bus shelter

Stars winking lights above you
Night breezes seem to rifle through my pockets making me shiver and grrrr.
Birds cawing in the auction house say nay
Dream a little dream of thee
Say llamallamaduck and spin round three times
Just hold me close and tell me your shoe size
When i'm alone with you by my side I dream a little of dream of blue skies, beaches and peanut brittle.


Stars go home but I linger on in your scent
Still craving your eyes upon me
I want to stay here forever just to remember your name.


Sweet dreams till I find you again
Sweet dreams that spill & leave a puddle behind you
Whichever they are see my name shaved into your hair.


Stars are fading but here I am biting my fingernails.
They taste of you but I forgot what flavour you are


Sweet dreams of you, the scenes still haunt me.
But wherever they be
I know whats to come on the menu

Consciousness streaming under trees and stuff

I sat down on the floor
Just me
just me
Alone
Tears in my eyes
Peace. It is just me and that's ok, more than ok.
Breeze from the right,
Something pulling me to the left
Let it go, she whispers, let it go.
All of it, i ask
All of it, she says

She lets me lean against her. I am thankful. A place to be. Restorative point. Calm. Recharge.
I want to curl up.
I want the rain, hard drenching rain.
I bring people to this special place.
None of them have stayed.
is still mine though.
Always be my special place.

Sun on my back
Melting the green so it seeps into my bones and softens the layers. Malleable.
It's ok to be open.
It's ok to be free
Leaving the door open doesn;t mean you can't get back in.
Let it out and welcome it back.

Can hear laughter. So still under here.
Will be like waking up when I leave.

Something rising, trying to escape.
Not right time to let it go.
Want to scream & dance & go rawrrrrrrrrr but I will be seen. Is not for anyone else to see.

When i smile do people see it? Or is it so slight?

Strong light
I don;t know how to control it, where to direct it.

Closed off you get nothing.
No thing can get in.
No love, No joy, No pain, No hurt
like what ABBA said innit
So thank you.
I accept it even if i don;t return it in the same way.
Now where's my rainbow...

Sitting
No one talks to me. I bet they look tho. I am watching them. Can barely keep my eyes open. Too bright or I want to lay down and sink back into the earth where i belong.

Citement was bubbling on the bus. Inner child was yaying. Right now she is coveting their frisbee. Wants to dance but boots are too heavy and I am too scared.

They are so perfect, the trees.
Just look & you know immediately they are a tree. Lesson there somewhere.
Trying to be someone. But people see different to what you want them to.
Wish I knew what they saw
Hope they see something good

Tuesday 11 May 2010

Am looking up.
Music still in my head.
Still singing along.


Blue electric hand.
Channeling creativity to heal.
So beautiful.
I was singing and dancing.
Loud, Strong, Happy.
Tastes like raspberries.
I want to write something about meeting people.
About paths crossing.
About possibilities,
Lost opportunities,
Forgotten dreams.
About when everything seems to fit but it isn’t the right time or location;
One piece missing.
About wanting to scream in frustration.
About little things, gestures you long for.
About surprises.
About being too honest and ruining it all.
About not being honest enough and stopping someone from leaving.
About realising the ship has sailed and there is no way to catch up with it.
About waiting.
About letting go,
Elastic bands and cream crackers.
About picking up where we left off.
About carrying a torch.
About silence.
Trepidation.
Impulsive.
Compulsive.
Resigned.
About real ones, pretend ones, complacent ones and the ones you really want but don’t get.
About settling for less.
About some thing being better than no thing.
What he said.
What she said.
What was left unsaid.
About being more than a concept.
More than someone to admire, not just there to give advice.
About saying what you mean and meaning what you say.
About acting on your promises.
Being true.
Willing to try and work for it.
About playing eye spy in the dark.
Seeing what’s hidden.
Seeing what isn’t there.
Seeing what you want.
About making it happen.
About me.
About you.
About all of us.
Searching.
Wondering.
Living.




That’s what I wanted to write about

Singing along to Jaymay 04/11/08


There’s only one direction we can go from here. The path is strewn with the jewels of nature, feet shuffling through the leaves mixing the colours, splashing my eyes and ears. I was listening to you till I fell asleep. I am singing and voice rings out strong and clear, straight from my solar plexus. The branch has been stripped and sanded. A clear path. Don’t go away before it has finished, that last note is as important as the first. Aren’t you curious how this will end? How can there be an end when we are not sure of the beginning? I am stumbling over some of the words but then I find my footing and they ring out crystal clear. Looking back it is complete, those notes you didn’t quite hit, fit perfectly in the whole. You are the flow. Two knocks on wood and on it goes, softly before it goes away. Rising higher, stronger, catching it between my hands. Carried along, then moving onto another strand, another thread, another thought, another mind. I touch them all as I pass, marking them with my magic, with my love.

Career Options

A. Fishwife


Move to fishing village. Marry a fisherman. Start wearing a headscarf and a tabard, smoking roll ups and gutting fish. Steal a net from a fish wife and paint lips with fish guts. Wear a jellyfish on your head.


B. Big Bad Wolferessy


build a cabin in the woods. Knit a wolf costume out of cat hair and spaghetti. Go around chopping down men for firewood and taunting pigs with bushy tail.


C. Hermit Strip Club Owner


Become a recluse. Live in a cave, bulk buy baby oil and metal poles off ebay on impulse. Open an all male strip club to get rid of em. Thursdays only, bring your own chicken, basket provided. Oh and a torch.


D. Cabaret Singer


Learn to sing. Back comb hair. Wrap self in tinfoil and dip in red glitter glue. Sing sultrily while gargling salt water.


E. Become the Phantom of the Opera


make a mask out of an egg box and a cloak from old CD cases. Loiter in the pantry/Biscuit Barrel/Bus Station*, wailing intermittently. At 12pm sing/mime/whisper*:
”The Phantom of the Opera is here inside your Pantry/Biscuit Barrel/Bus Station*”
(*delete as applicable)


F. Become a Professional Fundraiser


Make a sign saying
”FREE HUGS £1!!
SPECIAL HUGS £40 p.h.
Money goes to Chariddy

Love is like a hobby.
You see it, see other people doing it and think "oooh looks good". So then you find some for yourself and in the beginning you can't get enough of it. It makes you smile and laugh and be nice to passing shrews. It's what you think of all day long, all you talk about and everything you do is motivated by love. You buy all the attachments, build a cabinet to hold souvenirs and spend hour upon, attentive, hour preening it. It becomes your world, the axis upon which you spin, faster and faster until you start to tilt, lose your balance and fall off. You enjoy your new hobby, you do it everyday but then work or family or PS2 gets in the way and you spend less time doing what you love. It becomes something you like doing but given the choice would do something else. You pack away all the accoutrements. It becomes something you have, not something you do. A day goes by when you don't think about it at all, then another and you forget how much you used to enjoy it. It's not new anymore, not exciting enough and you've taken all you can eek out of it. Days turn into weeks and then months and then one day you find yourself digging through the closet. You come across all the things you put away and think fondly, "Maybe I should get these out again and give it another try"