Poetry (words)

This morning 

This morning passed in a haze of lust. A haze of you. Control abandoned and untamed. Giving in to let it all go. Setting free what lies within. So very deep within. 

Unlocked and unleashed, but this is not hell. This is a place I’ve never visited…I want to get to know it well. 

Eyes covered, but not against the light. A sensory explosion you’re the vision in my sight. 

Poetry (words)

Even at my most tempestuous 

I want you. Even when I shouldn’t. When my eyes are barely open before the day unfolds. I want you. Even when I’m angry. Anger cannot suppress what you’ve created. 

When I should be listening. I want you. When I’m concentrating on the tasks at hand. I want you. When I see the rain falling. I want you.

Watching you is the burning  touchpaper, alight. I want you. How your hands make me envious of all that you touch. I want you. 

Poetry (words)

Nice things


Friday started beautifully…and continues to be a day of niceness. Maybe I should burst this bubble, but I’m just not willing to do that….yet. 
Earth Day: A day of sincere warnings and heartfelt messages about our environment, everyone’s environment. A day when you want to hold the hand of someone who feels exactly as you feel about how beautiful the world is and how change could keep it that way. Anyone over the age of twenty who doesn’t see this as something massive really isn’t paying attention. 
For those people I have little time. Rightly or not I refuse to connect with ignorance now.

We rant and rave how we despise abuse yet the scars we leave on a daily basis are huge. Why are we so awful at demands? We want massive TVs and hi tech gadgets whatever the cost. We pay massive companies to deliver our needs every single day. We have our thing and for five minutes we are happy, but we rarely consider the actual cost of those five minutes. Ignorance is easier to deal with, because God forbid that we can’t have our wish list. 

There’s a great curtain of pretence attached to these portrayals of self. Everyone snapping for that little piece of fame. It’s quite repugnant. Who the fuck are you? Because you are not all that you claim. The fear of treading on people’s toes, the “must always be nice”, never be angry or truly speak your mind. Is such bullshit. 

Anger: something has angered you to feel that emotion. Something has affected you deeply enough to voice an opinion. Woe betide if you show that…unless your favourite character’s been killed off. Fake anger, fake emotional attachment to something that’s been placed in front of you. 

Someone on Twitter said something really nice to me this morning. I’m a bit awkward with compliments sometimes. Especially when they make me feel like a fake. Im not always nice, I’m quite often a tempestuous bitch. I’m tempestuous because I feel. I’m angry because without it I’d have given up caring. I can’t be all sweetness and light and live in reality it’s an impossible ask. To be that person I’d have to ignore the suffering of others. Whilst reacting with such a flippant indignance and outrage at the state of the nation every six months to the applause of my fellow muppets.

Well…fuck that. Fuck you! That’s not in my plans. Ever.
Nice things are special. Unscripted and from the heart is always my favourite. When someone says something that simply can’t be seen as anything but beautiful.