Telling Tales

On reserve.

2006-10-01T14:14:00.000-07:00

Almost two months since the last tale I told,
river not flowing, ideas running cold,
a rush- rush of duties, creativity on hold,
new puppy to play with, a long way off old.

Baby granddaughter in her month number eight,
waving goodbye to her mummy at the gate,
rushing in a panic to work for her fate,
hoping fervently that she isn’t late.

Bottle in the warmer, loud is the girl,
puppy in the rain, wet ears all a curl,
researching best doggy-food, don’t want him to hurl,
Pretty choca-sprocker, precious as a pearl.

Don my nun’s habit and speak the tongue of Macbeth,
rush to the madding crowd almost out of breath,
losing weight rapidly after a dog walk on the Heath,
yet stay away grim reaper I’m not ready for death.

Autobiographical doodle.

2006-08-11T13:06:00.000-07:00

My autobiography written today
a diary entry of poetic disorder
telling tales for my readership of two,
i fight the blues with written therapy.

Everything is coming at me at once,
nothing seems to sit in it's place.
I'm surrounded by chaos,
a muddle-upside-down-pot of life.

Reading of doodle dogs brings me a smile.
of Labradoodles, jack-a-poos and shcnoodles.
Then the education authority call,
bringing me back down to earth with a thud.

A house move should be joyful it's true,
new beginnings, a new start, a new home.
At last I am my own boss, i've waited for this.
Yet it's clouded in worry, oh red-faced am I.

Will I get the loan? If not what then?
Will I be able to afford carpets?
Where do I start with the garden, the rubbish?
Do I have cancer? Am I green? am I green?

What happened to the secret so easily embraced?
Why so negative, overloaded and knarky?
Remember how good everything is now,
not how is was, or could be or will be.

Sala Kayless.

2006-07-26T03:34:00.000-07:00

A banana for Christmas and not just for life,
Dancing on rainbows without any strife,
Purring along with the goddess of cats
Now you can chase those mice and those rats.

You shall be missed, that is for sure
You could not be thought of or loved any more,
But you were too good for this world you see
You were needed elsewhere and you’ll be where you’ll be.

You are with your auntie, angel is her name,
She will look after you and guide you to fame.
Dance in cat heaven with newly grown wings
And listen to the alley cat as love songs he sings.

We will not forget you here on earth
And on a video we can still see your birth.
I cannot help it Sala but to have a little cry
Because I really wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

You were so young, so pretty and free
You were always loudly talking to me.
I’ll miss your voice and your magical feet
The half black, half pink pads were so sweet.

But I guess I have to let you go now
To fly to the cat god and before him bow.
Just because you’re not here you aren’t loved any less,
Our beautiful, sweet, adorable Sala Kayless.

Two Pillars no more

2006-07-23T10:02:00.000-07:00

Television set leaps in my vision with images depicting the horrors.
Neck tingles and I hear the frantic tone in the reporter’s voice.
‘Do you see? Do you see?’
Bile rises in my throat as I realise the difference between reality and fiction.
I know not what to say to my friend when he feels nothing at the sight.
‘I hate America. Not Americans but America.’
I turn away from his lack of compassion and know that friendship is doomed.
He is doomed.
The predictions are coming true then. Is this just the beginning as they said?
The strange kind of calm that befalls me then is worse than the horrors of before.
‘Try and be of the world but not in it.’ New-Age, Zen advice but is that really achievable in the human state?
Survival mode sets in for always and since then I’ve been waiting.
Ready.
For what I don’t know.

The messenger of Emmessen.

2006-07-22T05:58:00.000-07:00

You look like your son this morning, your make up is very good.
What do you mean, I look nothing like him, was that a joke?
Yeah it was a joke, well I thought it funny anyway.
Glob glob.

You are crazy, mad, you nutter, you doofus brain.
As mad as a kid eating catfood, or her mother moaning
that cats should be seen and not fed.

Gardens should be tidy with lush growing grass not
rabbit holes and dry mud. Barren like the childless, the only
growth here weeds.

Even so you can’t expect those rabbits to live for three days
In a hutch can you? For all we know, the pipes had been making that awful noise for years and driving the previous tenants nuts.

The rickety stairs!!!! The leaky shower
the rotton gate and broken tap.
The cupboards that all open the wrong way.

Don’t worry, trusty Pablo and his cancer sticks
will sort it all out. He can do anything.
Even stop the gate falling on the children?

So gorgeous looking male what’s your spell today?
Casting out and cleansing or barricading new protection?
You know how we witches love to fight over beef.

Much better than a chipolata with a lot less gristle.
The smell of cooking bacon wafts into your quarters.
I think I will stick to Veggie-burgers thanks all the same
greedy guts. Much less piggified.

For pudding I’ll take that juicy banana, it’ll be a fight to
the death for it.
The pentacle tingled as I said my goodbyes to vanishing
Immoral purposes.

I was mean to you yesterday though. Very mean.
Or maybe I wasn’t, I’m undecided, confused, troubled.
Story of my life.
Yet my hair looks quite good longish today.
Glob glob.

You were jealous of the past again. Jealous of things
Long since gone away, things no more.
Yet still I chased you across hills and valleys
In the dead of night.

I ran so fast I wet myself.
Then followed your voice back to the safety
of the enclosure. I enjoyed the walk.

There was a massive splat of puke at the train station
from some drunken buffoon.
It was gross.
Kooky.
Glob glob.

It was probably a blue smurf.
He drank so much milk that day
no wonder he was sick.

It was loud. I thought the sky was crashing down.
Can’t do my laundry now.
I have to have dry weather for that.
I can’t bring a massive binliner of sopping wet stuff.

You are glowing now.
That’s because you are the son of god.
Yet is any marriage worth celebrating?
Glob glob.

The angry god looks down upon the filth you talk.
My father in heaven will judge me harshly now he knows
I am no longer celibate and chaste.
Could you have said anything worse?

I gave you the moon and you invited me to dine
at my favourite table with my favourite meal.
Yet you did this out of the blue for no reason.
Why? Why? Why?

You were hungry I cry, you need your nourishment.
I can feel your need as the wind howls outside my window.
Dance then! Embrace the dance and wash your car.

Dance to the sounds of greased lightning!
Oh you went into the kitchen, there was no dance.
You dumbass.

Show me flamenco, show me your twirl.
You love it. It’s electrifying!
Fabulous, you are the bees knees.
You will become the greatest dancing nun.

I will take my leave of you now for I am
Hungry for food. So goodbye my love.
The thunder and lightning roared
and the day turned to night.

Glob glob.

Where is God?

2006-07-17T12:16:00.001-07:00

Searching for god
Where is she hiding?
In the broccoli soup?
Or under the red perfume bottle?

Sometimes she is far away
And I walk, hand in hand with pink bum moon,
Towards my maker.
But just as I arrive at her home, she eludes me.

Crunchy cruciferous vegetables mixed with
Mung beans and chick peas for tea.
A child’s delight at a magnetic discovery
The woman’s exasperation at ‘emergency calls only’

Stick your new cam in and show me all there is to see
decombobulate over a towel on the chair
and do a Michael Jackson shimmy across
the living room, yay! What fun!

So where is god if she isn’t here today?
In the bath with the plastic yellow duck?
Sitting on the rabbit hutch amongst the rotten wood roof?
Or is she leaning towards your shedding?

The shedding of your ego.
A hard lesson to be learnt.
Let it go, let it drop.
Say goodbye to it and ye shall know god.

Love on a Laguna horse.

2006-07-10T04:09:00.000-07:00

Floating on a moving cloud
A white flying horse named Laguna
Lay down the spider-web-fine bedding
And blindfolded, I feel my way.

I see nothing, only darkness; still I cannot see your face
But I feel you, your touch, your energy
Tantric Kundalini rising on an innocent early morning
Down a dusty deserted lane the cloud lands.

Lit by a full moon, I take a peek in the half-light,
Not allowed and you tighten my blindfold.
Together forbidden fruits become our diet tonight
Vampires loving in a frosted home.

Colours swirl in my consciousness and dreams become reality
The spirit angel smiles down from the moon and tells me ‘now’.
That which I have waited for moves down from its astral space
And manifests within the third dimension.

Oh your touch, your smell, your love
This is the greatest human experience,
This is why we come here as separate beings
So we may learn what it is to join with another.

Moon work your magic tonight
Healing soul mates who become one
Twin flames become vampires of the night
And together, we walk into the light.

Spells alighted, visualisations settle
wishes come true, promises fulfilled.
No need for looking forward down that future road anymore,
But love abounds anew, in the greatest place, in the here and now moment,
And that is where it shall stay,
So be it.

When stress comes to call.

2006-07-06T10:47:00.000-07:00

When stress comes to call
In the form of one more child,
wayward and needy in her fiery intensity,
Does her mother lose her creativity?
Or can she still dream? Still write? Amongst the chaos?

If a child comes a calling
A catalyst for all’s falling
Will her mother wither and die?
Will the leaves on the branches turn crisp brown in summer?
Will the grass freeze over on the hottest day of the year?

Can the muse still be accessed?
Can the faery still dance?
Is her love as sharp and healing as it was before the burden?
A wilful child,
One who flouts rules
Will dance to her own tune,
For her there is no society.

A zig zag of feng shui surrounds the girl,
Masked by the face of an angel.
Young boys line up as food for her soul,
Selling their life’s blood to the devil’s daughter.

Will the mother survive?
Can she still laugh?
Can she dance on the digital,
Embracing love’s calling through divinity?

Will the higher self still prevail through all
During a week of overload?
Can the secret still work if mother is pulled
Down the echelons of vibratory existence so low?

It can be done but will be a fight for even the
Sweetest soul has salty tears ready to fall.
Even the most balanced can topple no matter what
They are made of.

Let us try one more time says the Lord to the mother,
For I will be with you to hold your hand.
She is your child, she is your baby and you can
Whether the storm like the mustang in the monsoon.

Your scythe is heavy yet the strength is within you
To cut the tangled reeds before you and make clear you path.
Find your way, follow your calling and live to see another day dawn
For the brightness of the sun is not to be missed
The love of your life is waiting to be kissed
You can go on, you will go on.
It’s only two more days,
So walk tall, walk proud and do not cringe
For surely you will hear a thousand fold yet
The shrill cries of ‘mum, mum, mum.’

Decombobulate your Scribble.

2006-07-03T12:06:00.000-07:00

I would love to decombobulate your scribble
Just like I used to do,
To release the cosmic dribble
Tantrically healing you.

Then you could gaze into my eyes,
We’d have a cup of tea.
Before I slumber on the grass
We’ll play game number three.

I would giggle delightfully
And smile with gladdened glee
I like you oh so frightfully,
I hope that you like me.

So come and picnic by the lake
A summer day not to be me missed,
Come sample some of my home made cake
And I’ll make sure you are thoroughly kissed.

With a doo doo doo and a la la la
We’ll catch the fluffy tribble
You shall gaze into the night time star
While I decombobulate your scribble.

Dancing on the Digital.

2006-07-01T14:28:00.000-07:00

Dancing on the digital,
lights, camera, action.
I tie the ribbons on my satin shoes
and dance for you.

I show you my flowers,
daisies and roses,
little pink buds of beauty
and an orchid in a quartz crystal
so sweet I can taste the aroma.

I twirl, I pirouette, I curtsey,
faster and faster until i reach my peak
then collapse, exhausted in front
of my audience of one.

Oh did you enjoy the show?
Did I give you pleasure?
I love to dance only for you,
caught by a camera of love.

Oh Mother Dear.

2006-06-26T04:21:00.000-07:00

Fury rages inside me churning in its molten intensity,
anger felt for the first time in many weeks,
rage takes place where calm and happiness was only
a second before and I slam down my telephone.

Oh sweet Mother dear you have problems but I will not
allow them to infiltrate my peaceful space, if you feel
so let down by your children then why bother with us?
What a disappointment I am to you, oh shame on me that
I try to live my life in accordance with universal law.
Oh naughty me for trying to live in harmony with nature,
for loving and being loved by honourable men, for opening
myself to creativity and the divine muses. For surely the fact
that I have not paid back money borrowed from you cancels
out all positive paths I have walked?
Children by different fathers, walked away from my husband,
will these sins be forever thrown in my face every time you
discover that my brother is on drugs or that my sister has fallen
in love with someone else and left the father of her children?

Always look to the negative mother dear and see that which
I have not achieved rather than that which I have. My growth
in recent weeks has been vast and I hold my head up high for
the person I am. I like myself, nay I love myself not in spite
of my faults and mistakes but because of them. I feel sorry
that you are so blinded to your children’s achievements yet
see so clearly their failings, for the law of attraction is working
for you as it does for all of us. What negativity you are drawing
unto yourself!

My mistakes have been my learning, my sorrow has been my growth.
Oh open your eyes and see that which is so clear. Humanity can
be perceived as a total loss to the universe yet what would we do
If our Angels gave up on us and concentrated only on our faults?
Thank goodness they see the light and love and potential humanity
possesses, thank god that I follow in their footsteps and shall not
make my children feel such failures that you have with yours.
And thank goodness I have one parent who sees with clear eyes
his offspring. Tell me why is it that my father is so very proud
of me, and tells me so, when you are so disappointed?
Oh Mother dear the problem lies not with your children, or
your bank account or your relationship the problem lies
within you. I wish you love and I wish you sight and growth
but I will not be in your presence until you have removed this
negativity from your sphere and return to the loving person that
I know you can be.

Now I sip my flower remedy and return to the centre your phone
call pulled me from. My vibration remains high, I wish you the same
and hope you will one day see the beauty in the world and in people
as I do.

Love spell.

2006-06-25T11:29:00.001-07:00

11.11

Leinad I cast unto you my love’s rope,
take hold if you will for it is bound with silver.
A timely pentacle forming a sign of magik,
two black catz sitting on a fence.

Leinad your kiss will heal my wounds
and mine will yours. Into a glass I place
a pinch of salt and chant, with a lock of
your hair, your photo, an incantation of love.

L is for love and it embraces you now
E is for energy, pulsating with magik
I is for Ice, melted around your heart.
N is for Night, when we will make love.
A is for astral, I shall meet you there.
D is for destiny for I am yours.

Buried under a mound of Gaia’s Earth
this verse sits unlighted.
But shall start to live like an entity of it’s own
and take form as soon as you read it.

It is done.

108

Oh Muses Divine.

2006-06-25T09:22:00.000-07:00

Polyhymnia talk to me of sacred stones, of that which I cannot touch.
Protect me from vampires and creatures of the night,
For I am your friend and share the geometric with you,
Let me enter the world of mythology and help you slay the dragon.

Would Jehovah approve of the dress you wear today? Would Sai Baba
Comment on the dance you danced for me? Oh draw the Shaman in and
bring him to me, I want to wear his skins and bones.

Polyhymnia can you make me a High Priestess? Can you bless me with your hymns?
Or should I dance with your sister Terpsichore The Whirler or try to understand
The cosmology taught by your celestial sister Urania?

Oh muses divine give me your gifts so that I may open my eyes and see for once
The miracle that is living on Earth.

Erato the Lovely.

2006-06-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

Oh woe is me,
touched by Erato the lovely,
sweet Cupid by her side
sitting forlornly without a bow.

Would I sing a morbid song
or that of a nightingale?
I cannot escape from the chains of love
that bind me to the earth.
An anchor of longing holds me
whilst pleasure denied tries to
surface even whilst he is not there.
Erato why would he, whom I desire
decide on celibacy enforcing my chastity?

For I cannot take another lover
my commitment to him was enshrouded in gold
with diamonds for edging, upheld by Venus herself.
Oh sweet Erato don’t leave, I need you now.
Energy with no-where to go is frustration incarnate
and with you, leading my reins, guiding my wings
I can always release that which I wish I could share with him.

Stand by Cupid’s side, your love’s inspiration and let him see
the passion that bubbles inside me, screaming for release.
What pleasure he would gain if he were to step inside
and share mine, oh lead him out of his monks clothing,
bring him back into himself, awaken him from his slumber.

Until that time when he should find himself, wanting and
aroused then I dance with you, together we shall weave our
tapestries of love until the Lord deems otherwise.

My assumptions.

2006-06-25T08:33:00.000-07:00

An elfin girl by the name of Jean,
in her tight purple bodice with little wings
was one of my earliest to be born of
assumptions, subject matter, theme.

Then came a mad accountant
living in a tree, then came the red-haired
Irish beauty who sacrificed her own life
so her brother could live.

Cyber-shamans long ago resurfacing their
wisdom and ways on the world-wide-web.
A visit from an angel of creativity remembering
the day I saw the greasy film
with acting, singing, dancing idol,
my first sexual thoughts in this life.

An ode to a play my boyfriend was in
all about a chicken. A humorous look
at a young girl who threw a party in her home
while her father was away, boy was she in trouble!

Daniel desperately trying to get away
from flirting colleagues, both in relationships
then a long tale of a desire for commitment.
A tribute to the writings of restless dreaming and
yet more commitment issues in a desire for marriage ditty.

My darling granddaughter was then born
and her beauty lit up this corner of the world
for all who cross her path are touched
by her energy and light and her smiles.

Writing of writing and sex with a vampire
along comes a tramp of filth and stir.
Don’t walk on by the beggar you bugger!
A farting, parping, trumping scene
followed by a pip and a squeak.

A girl of nature emerged from her watery
resting place and stars burned in a sky of lust.
A three year love ended and changed, metamorphosis
took place and ascension to the divine on earth began.

He left my physical home, he left my astral space
yet fairies, angels and spirits stepped in to converse,
teach, guide, warn and lead with bliss.
So I let go with healing and love and witnessed
the vision I promised I wouldn’t write about.

Cleansing took place and acceptance followed,
yet spirit still showed me my glowing quantum
future and I called to me my twin flame and each
of his beloved cats. The secret showed the abundance
that life has to offer and a kangaroo danced for my brother.

Shoes in a charity shop and a jumping monkey,
precluded the blade and chalice.
I fell in love all over again with he whom I already
loved and a mermaid held a trident for him.

My dearest cat who passed away entered my thoughts
yet again I thought of my love and decided I could
never give up on him, on us.
My sister took a lover and I reached out to mine,
another ginger cat entered the frame.

Sexuality took over and I dreamt of love’s kiss,
no disrespect to the kettle.
Dissected an astrology paper and danced until drunk.
An ode to Andrew with the tiger of fun.

This month we lost Angel, a black witches cat
and the six, six, six entered our cosmic calendars.
I talked in clichés and communed with crystals,
rode a red bicycle and said goodbye to a friend.

I played with a hedgehog and went insane when
a snake slithered onto my lap.
I went to the fair, my brother was there
and the little boys went to school.

I dreamt I made love on a blanket of gold
with cosmic stardust on a rainbow.
My daughter became a woman and her beauty shone
when England played in the world cup.

The snake ate its tail as we went back to the beginning,
I could talk no longer.
Feverish dreams with the early morning light
I climbed Hengistbury mountain during a birthday celebration.

Ghostly images surrounded someone until he
threw away his mobile phone.
The summer solstice beckoned, what a lovely day,
The sweet mix of love and frustration.

A manifestation of feathers occurred and a cup
of sheep’s urine consumed. A wedding dress was
thrown away as I acknowledged your handsomeness
in the summer breeze.

I laughed by an empty glass cabinet and thought of
my love at the end of the day. Twice.
I sat on a circle and tried to remove a lux, but could not.

A male vision encircled me and I touched the petals of
a flower. A Mars, Venus unity completed my poetry.
Forever the muse goes on with assumptions, ideas,
revelations. Quantum realities unfold and doors open.
I am left with the essence of Goddess divinity
on a pillow entwined with pearls of wisdom.
Fairies dance around toadstools and still I see you.
‘It’s always there, feel privileged.’

I want to write poems.

2006-06-25T07:21:00.000-07:00

I want to write poems which show my inner thoughts;
I want to write poems which convey my worldly philosophies;
I want to write poems which stimulate both myself and my readers;
I want to write poems which baffle and confuse, delight and touch;
I want to write poems about love found, love lost, love reunited;
I want to write poems about the astral realm and the underworld;
I want to write poems about the bigger picture, the grand plan;
I want to write poems about nutrition, health and fighting cancer;
I want to write poems about God, Jesus and the Virgin Mary;
I want to write poems about modern women and historical men;
I want to write poems about magic, religion, science and Wicca;
I want to write poems about the secret and the law of attraction;
I want to write poems about fantasy, fun, fiction, fruit and flying;
I want to write poems about my heart and soul and their yearnings;
I want to write poems about desire, lust and passionate sex;
I want to write poems about manifestation and my blue feather;
I want to write poems about the man I love and my adventures with him;
I want to write poems about my life, my emotions, my beliefs, my needs;
I want to write poems about my family, my friends, my children, my pets;
I want to write poems about my beautiful baby granddaughter;
I want to write poems about places I’ve been and dreams I’ve dreamt;
I want to write poems about what I want to write poems about;
Quite simply, I want to write poems.

Daughter of Venus.

2006-06-25T06:20:00.000-07:00

I sit with the chanting women I teach,
the ‘Miss Jean Brodie’ of the metaphysical
calling their power back to themselves,
teaching the younger women that which I know.

I sit cross legged on my coloured straw mat,
tell of wisdom, power and sexuality.
The moon workshop centres on the multiple womb
and our hearts beat as one, in unison with the goddess.

He comes home, my husband and enters our world.
Away on business for a week, looking to find comfort
in the arms of me, his wife. Surprised to see multiple women
in the quiet of his home. I’m aware of how threatening our
Female unity is to him. Aware of how distracting his masculinity
is to my students and with a soft voice I tell him I’m taking
my workshop.

Distracted now as the balanced teacher, knowing my hungry
husband waits for his appetite to be fulfilled.
I hurry through the meditation, a few of the women’s smiles
show me they know the wicked thoughts in my mind.

‘Enjoy yourself’ says Charlene with a wink, ‘now he is home eh?’
I try to keep a modest pose yet how can I, as a spiritual, sexual counsellor
pretend I am immune to the presence of my husband in our marital bed?
One by one they leave, thankful for the new found peace and power
within their womanly grasp.

The last woman leaves and with excitement building in my chest,
with the whizzing- whirring- twirl of my solar plexus, I turn,
to climb the Jacobean staircase and greet my husband from his trip.
I jump, startled, as he stands halfway down the stairs, tanned arm
casually leaning on the balustrade.

I take a deep breath and wonder, after so many years of marriage
how he can still affect me like this? He smiles and pulls me into
his arms for the longest kiss. Once again, as always, I lose myself,
lose my senses as my hands instinctively move to touch, of their
own free will, his long dark hair.

I say my silent prayer to the goddess of love for this oh very, very,
very male man in my arms. I am so much more aware of my own
femininity when surrounded by him and my entire body tingles with
anticipation of the cosmic dance that is to come.
He leads me up the stairs to our chamber and I give thanks to
Venus that I am her daughter.

If not a flower.

2006-06-25T05:26:00.000-07:00

What am I if not a flower?
A petal without a stem, a sugar cane candy without its stick.
What am I if not a summer breeze, biding my time till the thunderstorm strikes?
Who am I if I cannot make sense of myself without your joining?
You move around me in your darkness, the wood to my leaf,
the shell, the outer covering.
You move me to shifts so I lie in place with the sweetest fruits,
A strawberry festoon of delights and I only take these pleasures on a Sunday.
So my dance for the Sabbath remains a mystery.
You will never unlock the oak doors around me for you do not have the key.
I have given it to another of my own free will.
Oh tempting male that you are begone I will find the blade myself,
within myself.
What am I if not a flower?

Circles.

2006-06-23T01:50:00.000-07:00

I sit on the circle of love that surrounds you
In the centre you stand, I look at you.
I have been here for a long time
and you are aware of my presence.

I ask the winged one, guardian of the circles,
What am I to him? He knows I sit here.
More than a friend but not quite a girlfriend.
There is no category to place you in, you are
In a category of your own and have no label.
This is good for you. Labels can be restrictive.

So, in a category of my own I sit, in a familiar place.
Home for an infinite moment in time.
Three earth years and two months and counting.
This is my place and I let go of my need for labels.

The circle behind me vibrates quicker than this and
Is ever moving in its fickleness. That of infatuation,
a place I moved beyond within the blink of an eye.
I look and see another girl sitting here.

What is she doing on your circle?
I have not noticed another woman here before.
I have jealously guarded these circles around you
I am the only woman who should be here.

I try to stand, to move towards her, to push her off.
But dizziness claims me and I know I cannot leave here,
I cannot get to her for although I see her she is in another realm.
Existing in her own world, unaware even of the circle she sits in.

You cannot remove her. Any female may take this place for
It is of their own choosing to do so. She is here of her own free will.
She is no threat to you and is here for a reason. Let it go and share
this space for she is not where you are. Do you hear me, she is no
threat to you. She sits in her own reality, you are invisible to her.

But is she a threat to him? I cry, is he even aware of her presence?
She is there for a reason and is not a threat but a challenge.
Do not be worried for your love, tend to your own circle now.
So I centre myself and look to the circles around me.

I see you, standing not sitting, walking, moving, turning your
back on me, turning to face me, walking away along winding
paths connected to my circle and returning at will. Where once
there were locked gates from which I had stolen the key, now there
are hedges with flowers and I see you walk freely amongst
the wildlife along the paths, surprised but pleased at the place
you now find yourself in.
Where are the gates?
Where are the locks?

You were blocking access to his paths of learning with your
gates and locks, seeing his need for freedom as a threat
when really it is your greatest ally. Look how firmly
he stands on your circle now he knows he can come and
go as he pleases, see how quickly the flowers grow for
the seed is no longer strangled on dry ground but is tended
with love and understanding and spiritual waters.
You knew these truths in your head but did not have the faith
and trust, in us, your guardians to put them into practice.

Now step forward in reality in the human realm and embrace
the new found freedom you have given him and thus yourself.
Love grows colourful, like a rainbow when boundaries are lifted.
Love can breathe when restrictions are no more. Love can dance
and play and laugh in the garden of fun when access outside the
circle is no longer blocked. You have chosen to remain on his circle
permanently but he needs access to other pathways and will always
return to yours if you have trust.

This is new, this is strange, this is different but good. I embrace this
change and smile as I watch you walk yet another path. In amazement
I see my love circle shift and blend and extend and move with you,
rippling under your feet like the living entity it is. I know with
certainty now that you will come back as long as I never try to
lock you in again. The love circle is not your prison but is your home.

Love's Kiss.

2006-06-22T14:18:00.000-07:00

Closing my eyes at night I call to mind
your image, clear before me I see your
face. Your kind eyes darkened with desire,
your soft lips touch mine. I know this
is but a vision and not real but my
imagination wanders to perfection. The
touch of your hand, I know, is really my
own, exploring the places yours
once did. Oh pretence is sweet and
the mind distinguishes not between
fantasy and reality. I am taken to heights
alone yet in my dreams I walk with you.
Only when I open my eyes does realisation
finally dawn and love’s kiss becomes a wish.

Glass room.

2006-06-22T13:49:00.000-07:00

The blank canvas could be an artist’s
gallery or a tearoom serving cream teas
and toffee cake or a taxidermists dream
with stuffed animals galore. Birds with
blue feathers or pigs and sheep in grass
laden baskets. It could be a doorway to
another realm, a place where I made my
love known to you through laughter.
No tears will fall from my eyes when
I think of the day in that room, only
glad memories fill my heart and
you looked so lovely by that glass
I’m thankful you didn’t touch me for
as sure as the sun sets I would have fainted.

Promise.

2006-06-22T12:02:00.000-07:00

I love to watch expressions upon your face
But you only crave more and more space
Is there in your life for me a place?
I promise I shall behave with humility and grace.

Picnic.

2006-06-22T11:59:00.000-07:00

Car converted
into a cosy bed, ready for a picnic
by keys of light.

Eye candy.

2006-06-22T11:56:00.000-07:00

You stand with hair brushed back by wind.
Oh you are a divine find.

Wedding Dress.

2006-06-22T11:25:00.000-07:00

Come now white net time to purify
thy memories, and hold on high thy look.
For you were once used and only once
In a ritual never understood by your wearer.

She walked in her nineteenth year to the
heavenly alter of wedded bliss, her man
but a child himself as she carried a child
within her teenage womb.

You in your resplendent splendour did nothing
to warn her, of the travesty she committed
before the Lord that day.
You shone in all eyes.

Cameras flashed only because of you as
she took his hand and wore his ring.
Her true twin-soul only eight years old
riding his bike and doing homework.

She took her vows and you did nothing
you didn’t care, since been made to stand
amongst the sandy lofts of time growing
yellow with age until amateur dramatics day.

A murder dinner you shone again in a different light,
too small but covered with a net once hanging at
a window pane. Twice you lived your day this way
until he, her true husband, claimed her for his own.

Into a black bin liner did you go, shoved into
darkness like a thief chained until the
charity collectors came to take you to a new life.
Your time with her has ended now.

Perhaps you stand proud again walking the aisle
of love, leading yet another lamb to her slaughter?
Carrying a daughter? or maybe this time will you be
Instrumental in true love divine?

Goodbye white tulle your death was timely
rebirthed in a Sussex town. Should I ever find
myself walking the walk of commitment I cannot
come for you but will find a more fitting garment.

Shivambu

2006-06-22T11:06:00.000-07:00

my purse is full because i've got money
i'll spend it later on a cup of tea
and dance with gods swinging happily
merrily playing with a persian cat.

i'll sing for you if i can eat but two
and see where blackstrap molasses might take me
although if you drink your urine up today
you'll not suffer any more with ill.

swig a gig and jog a log for free
snap off a twig and eat a bush or two
and breathe the scent a nostrel once a piece
forever meant to dance the winging fleece.

Manifestation

2006-06-22T10:07:00.000-07:00

Illusions manifested a feather of blue
It’s hard to believe it but it’s true
Student if you only knew
The next blue feather is coming to you

When the student is ready the master will come
Hurrying to the beat of the cosmic drum
You might think it may not work for some
Ignorance of the masses leaves me quite numb.

The red feather came and you let go
All the time, little did you know
That the blue feather was yet to show
You’ve begun a journey so off you go.

Start off small on the road to love
Manifest that which fits like a glove
Twin souls unite with the sign of a dove
A lover’s kiss sent from above

Untouchable stones.

2006-06-22T02:46:00.000-07:00

Caffeine rich coffee keeps me awake
driving with the untouchable one
like sacred stones in a preserved henge
boundaries surrounding both.

The Cathedral spire towers above us
laughter shared on consecrated ground
raining pine needles cleanse lustful thoughts
healed by the graveyard tree sprite.

In my flowing red robes I kneel
In prayer where many have before me
light a candle by the chapel
of Michael, ascended Archangel.

Sandals walk on stone resting places
eyes follow your glorious form
yet quickly shift towards stained glass windows
lest you should catch my stolen glance.

Artefacts of interest sit behind locks
Jokes of empty spaces in unfilled cupboards
Giggles escape in childlike glee
So near and yet so far.

Sacred stones stand erect and majestic
Merlin shakes our hand
I close my eyes and bask in desire
my knee gently rests against yours.

Strawberry picnic on a travelling bed
blue feather manifested
from the cosmic catalogue
the sweet torture goes on.

Open ending to a love story
left hanging in disappointed wonder
all control gone now as tiredness claims emotion
and I reach out and touch the forbidden stone.

Unexplained.

2006-06-20T09:33:00.000-07:00

A misty image of a man
Shrouded in clouds of cosmic dust
Two faces
One real, one metaphysical.

Golden flecks of non materialism
On a shirt that is in reality black
Dark eyed suspicions on his furrowed brow
Compulsive obsessions resurface.

Wallpaper red splashes mingle
With the photographic images
Of a ghostly aura around him
One alien face shows his bright white teeth.

Change your sight and look closer
At the transfiguration of this human male
A pink blade forms around the centre
Finally his guardian makes his presence known.

Happy birthday

2006-06-17T02:40:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday to my dearest friend,
Have a really lovely day.
I wish you fun and laughter
Synchronicity all the way.

Let yourself be guided
By that inner voice of wisdom
And follow your intuition
Close to the universal kingdom.

My heart and soul are with you
In everything you do
So may your solar return be special
From your friend who will always love you.

Cupid's Kiss

2006-06-15T00:53:00.000-07:00

The flower opens to the bee
Offering her nectar so he can taste
The sweet divinity of her core
A river of honey flows forth.

Petals flutter with the morning dew
Sunshine shows the birth of a new day
Venus smiles at cupid’s kiss
Just a tiny peek of the things to come.

Silence

2006-06-15T00:34:00.000-07:00

Chatter, chatter, chatter to all and sundry,
Talk if you must, if it helps.
Listen to the well meaning advice,
Some good, some not so good.

Now you have arrived at a place,
You can no longer talk about.
For friendship, relationship analysing
Takes itself to a new height.

Only your own divine connection
Is where to turn for the gossip of choice
and the muse flows freely from the quill.
‘Things are great,’ is all one can say now.

Full circle

2006-06-15T00:07:00.000-07:00

And so the reconstruction begins
And we return
To ‘in the beginning when it was good’
As energies abound, rebirth sits in its new form.

The dual body prepares for its confinement
As the pregnancy is noticeable now.
With the swelling of the womb of love
Comes recognition from the High Priestess
Of who she is and why she is here.

Connection to her higher self is closer than ever before
As her human mirror works his magic.
The duality forwards and upwards is sweet in its equilibrium
One shape, a square is formed.

A triangle waits to be set alight
It sits there in its virtuous patience
Feng shui the living space
Then watch the manifestation we have created.

The male solar return occurs in its thirtieth year
And that which began at Easter comes full circle
To reunite those that work for universal force
The angels of light begin their divine penetration.

The snake came to visit
Bringing its symbolic message
Now it turns, forms an ouroboros
And eats its own tail.

Come on Eng-a-land.

2006-06-13T08:24:00.000-07:00

Where are you watching the world cup?
At home on your own TV?
Or will you go down to pub for the day?
You can come with us if you want.

Are you ‘avin a laugh?
Me? The world cup?
I can think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing
On a sunny Saturday afternoon.

Well I must say I’m most surprised.
The whole world will be watching the game,
You must be one of one
who won’t be watching England play.

Don’t be silly, I’m one of hundreds
surely you must see that?
There are so many people out there
who do not embrace footie in their life.

Many believe it creates violence
And is a means to control the masses
For while you are all watching a bit of sport
the illuminati is planning its new world order.

Identity cards made compulsory
Followed by the microchipping of the population
World war three looms as a threat
And none of you can see.

For you are too busy screaming
Each time Beckham scores a goal
Drowning your sorrows when they lose
Vandalise a wall or two.

I’m sorry but I have to disagree
I find you most unpatriotic
It’s not all about a football game
It’s a time we can unite as one nation.

They all take the piss out of England
With their fanatic religions and ways
For once we can stick two fingers up at them
And shout COME ON ENG-A-LAND!

Why do the Irish celebrate St Patrick's day?
When we have nothing to celebrate on St George's day?
All those idiots whinging about us flying our flag,
We are being taken over, that is my view.

I don’t see the world as segregated.
One country against the other
I am part of the whole, at one with humanity
And competitiveness is too much like war to me.

Pit man against man in order,
To bring about his destruction.
Let’s start with a game, then do it for real,
It’s all in the book of revelations.

You’re bloody bananas you are
I don’t know anyone else like you
England is your heritage, you should be ashamed
To not cheer on your team.

My team is the spiritual realm
Having an experience of humanity
Sorry but football just ain’t my bag,
We’ll have to agree to differ.

Can you fit anymore flags outside your house?
Surely there is room for more?
Ok you can’t see the windows or walls
But so what, red crosses galore.

Thankyou anyway for your thoughts on this
Let’s not fall out over football
Let me turn our conversation into something more positive
a poem perhaps?

I’ll send it to you when I’ve written it
And maybe you can see my perspective
But I do like your England flag rug
And the cushions to match how cute.

Are you wearing England flag knickers too?
Is your bra a red and white flag?
No I did look couldn’t find any
Surely you’ll watch the final though?

Well maybe, we’ll see what I’m doing.
I doubt it very much.
I have to be honest it bores me to tears
I’d rather watch the grass grow.

But carry on if it makes you happy
Sitting in a crowded pub
Catch on to the energy and scream like a banshee
When that ball gets kicked into the net.

It’s nice to go out during match time
Because there’s nobody there
The shops are empty, the streets deserted
Everyone is watching the game.

Sorry I’m just not into it
And I really don’t care who wins
But I suppose I ought to say England
Or I might lose all my friends!

Holy Rose.

2006-06-13T02:07:00.000-07:00

Oh how beautiful you are
A sign of the woman to come
Still a child yet showing
the femininity of the form you took,
In this life.

Daughter of mine you are blessed
A vision to beyold at just fifteen
What a jewel I bought forth from my womb
What a princess you are.

Your long hair, your bright eyes,
exuding an intangible quality.
Your female shape evident
how you will draw the men in.

Do not lose the grace in this picture
that you posses in abundance
stay centred and within your equilibrium
and you will embrace the goddess that you are.

It’s hard to believe you were once my baby
cradled in my arms, a helpless new born bundle
to witness now that which you have become
such a beautiful Angel.
Everyone see! Behold my daughter,
my own sweet child.
Shine on my darling with your vibrant energy
and know I am proud to be your Mother.

Sweet dreams.

2006-06-13T01:32:00.000-07:00

Oh Master why do you visit me in my dreams?
You say you think you are leading me on,
that I have made my interest in you quite clear.
So I retreat to the space of friend
and truly let go of my wish for more.

Yet my subconscious will not allow it
your flight through the other realms is given passage
your sweet dream visit leaves me breathless, wanting
lying in a pool of unsatisfied need.

I can still feel your lips on mine
your touch on my skin as real as it once was
your burning desire matching mine
I close my eyes and try to return
but the moment has passed and day has begun.

So in the hours of wakefulness I stay in friend’s place
locking all hopes of more in a silver box in my mind
only in my dreams I know you have the key
I smile and say oh sweet dream you are most welcome
return when you will I shall not push you away.
I can not.

You shall never know when you see me
of the secret passion we shared last night
of the love we made in the astral world
where wings of time fly in all directions
and don’t think reading these words gives you insight
for this, my dear, is merely poetry.

Boys at school.

2006-06-12T14:52:00.000-07:00

Children in the class listen good
It’s geography lesson today
America, New Zealand and Jupiter’s great moon
Are the topics to study away.

Young Andrew are you doing ok?
Why are you painting Mona Lisa?
And what are you scoffing under the table?
Good god it’s pepperoni pizza.

Daniel you should be good at this.
I think you are certainly the man.
Last week you scored top of the class
With your essay on Jovi-Floyd-Dan.

Liam I think you could do better
And sit on a chair not rugs.
Can you please throw away the chewing gum
And may I check your pockets for drugs?

Jim please don’t bring that dog to class
Stand straight and pull up your socks.
Sit still will you child?
And stop kicking that bloody box.

Brian I think you are in the wrong class
It’s quantum science that’s on next door
Geography really isn’t your thing
I know you find it a chore.

I’m sure you’ll settle better during PE
It’s tennis today I know you love that
And Liam can help you with music
Try not to sound like a strangled cat.

Daniel will enjoy Drama
If he can stop stuffing his face
Put down the pizza and Kentucky fried
You are dropping McDonalds all over the place.

Nutjob can you concentrate?
Massive as you surely are
That doesn’t mean you can disrupt everyone
Liam! You are covered in tar.

Have you been smoking fags again?
Dipping your hand into the bottle of coke?
Honestly I know you want to get high
It’s against school rules to smoke.

Jim stop eyeing up all the girls
Isn’t two enough?
And here we are talking of a chalice of gold
Not a cup made of fluff.

Daniel can you please pay attention?
Take that hood down off your head.
Goodness me was that another yawn?
Looks like you are ready for bed.

Really boys you are all a disgrace
Those exams you’ll never pass.
All you want to do is laze away the day
Just happy sitting on your arse.

Well life isn’t like that children
I speak the truth you know.
Whatever do you think you will do?
When into adults you do grow?

Well I wash my hands of the worry
It’s like walking the holy mile.
But all of you are rather sweet
And occasionally you make me smile.

I’ll ring the bell,
We’ll call it a day,
Off you all go,
Out to play.

From now on,
There is a new rule,
Playtime for all of you,
And no more school.

Merry-go-round

2006-06-12T13:41:00.000-07:00

I went with my friend to the fair
And stared at the merry-go-round
She chose to ride on the maflamettie-do
And I sat on top of the prankie.

Then the bull fly toppled on to one side
And the shindig started to fluster
His wife ran off to her sister’s house
And left him with his daughter and the dog.

He still went out with his love for the day
And when wifey got back she was as mad as a parrot on a kettle
She ranted and raved and screamed and shouted
She threw things about but he didn’t care

She didn’t move him an inch with her flusterings
And threw his clothes out the window
And the merry-go-round went faster and faster
Ranting insanely about an unbalanced male

It’s an impossible mission of the third kind
An omen for sure
A code to be unravelled
Like a modern Da Vinci wannabee

My friend Gigi jumped on the gee gee
And giggled like a hyena on heat
A golden egg got laid by a goose
And my sister was sick in a bowl.

It’s all going on at the festival fair
Linked by white sailing boats
A glass of coke and a candy cane
Washed down in ecstasy

The merry-go-round whirled faster with speed
Here’s mud-in-your-eye you dope
And I rolled on the grass with a kangaroo
Jacked up the car and was off.

Snake on my doorstep

2006-06-12T02:37:00.000-07:00

I arrive home,
I put my baby granddaughter down on the doorstep in her baby seat
as I fumble for my key
I put the key in the lock
open the door
turn to pick up the baby
and I see something move in the corner of my eye.
Tingles of horror run through my body
Oh God there is a snake on my doorstep.

I get the children inside the house
and quickly shut the door.
The cliché 'blood runs cold' seems appropriate here
as the horror remains with me.

Was that my imagination?
Or is there a snake on my doorstep?
I open the door to take another look,
Oh yes it's a snake alright.

Long and pink with a black stripe down its back.
What is it doing here?
What if one of the cats gets it and brings it indoors?
What if it is poisonous and bites one of the cats?

I feel helpless,
I start to cry.
There is no-one here to help
and I don't know what to do.

No good asking my stepfather
he is more terrified of snakes than I am.
Maybe it is dead.
I take another look and more flushes of fear run through my body.

It is curled around my stone frog.
I quickly move the frog and jump back startled
as its slithering, wriggling movement shows me
how very much alive it is.

It is only a matter of time before
one of my five nosy cats
finds it's wriggling,
irresistible.

What am I to do?
I could deal with a worm, a bee or a fly
an injured bird,
even a mouse.
But a snake?

Oh dear a snake on my doorstep
a real snake.
Where did it come from?
Is it after the frogs from the nearby pond?
Did it think my ornamental frogs were real?

Oh why is it here?
My garden is no Eden
there are no tempting apples on my tree.
Oh pink skinned snake, pretty coloured you may be
you fill me with dread
please go away.

I'm no Daniel today
and will not walk into the Lions den.
Confident I am in all walks of life
but a snake on my doorstep
turns me into a quivering wreck.

What does this creature represent
is it a sign from above?
Or a messenger from the devil to warn me of impending doom?
It signifies knowledge, power and sexuality.
The rising of the kundalini.
It signifies I'm scared as hell!!

Help!
Someone!
Anyone!
Save me!

My cries go unanswered
heard only by me.
I realise,
I must fend for myself in this jungle of life
and protect my young from this intruder.

So.....
I do nothing.
Sometimes the wisest act is to do nothing
and this time that is what I do.

I hope and prey that the reptilian invader
will go and find another doorstep to sun himself on
and when I next open my front door
he will no longer be there.

Chicken Chicken Chicken

2006-06-11T13:41:00.000-07:00

Dancing on the roof like a three legged duck,
I find myself gazing at stars,
So far away, just my luck,
Perhaps I’ll just visit mars.

And my love ran away to another new life,
My love ran away and left me.
I was waiting at the edge of the fence around the moon
When she jumped over the dish and the spoon.

I love our cat he’s a big fat moggy,
Keeps leaving baby birds at the foot of the stairs
The other day she was playing with a cute little froggy
But we rescued him and sent him back to the pond

And my love didn’t like her new life of free
My love decided she missed me
So I let down my hair and she climbed on up
And rescued me from singleton tower

I gave her my new blue rucksack
In it were sandwiches and fruit
She turned me around and gave me a smack
Because she wanted my loot

This rhyme is nuts but I don’t care
That’s how I feel today
Don’t walk into the dragon’s lair
Or your wig could turn quite grey.

Abstraction

2006-06-10T09:39:00.000-07:00

It feels crunchy and soft,
Light, yet my fingers mould into its touch.
It’s furry, squishy and squashy
Fingers poke into it like toy jelly.

Smells weird and catlike,
Musty, smusty, old cellars.
Waterlogged rain on an undried cloth
Yet the stench is not unpleasant.

As silent as the night without a bird
As a house without a playstation or a plasma screen
Surround sound speakers non exist
Nothing but a shell of the sea waves.

Sticking out my tongue for a taste of the unknown
A kiss of fabric I purse my lips
And frown at the foreign body,
The texture on my tastebuds alien to me.

Sweet little inanimate you are a friend indeed
A sign of things to come
And in this hermetic painting I seal you
So you can manifest for me that which you represent.

Squash.
Onto the floor you go with a quiet thud.
Willow jumps after you and sticks her nose into your fabric flesh.
And I know that my will is done.
So mote it be.

Loved by a madman.

2006-06-09T09:35:00.000-07:00

The crazy corner in my mind,
Is clouded and grey.
As you stalk in and stake your claim.
Get out! I scream, you have no place here.

But once I let you in and you drove me insane.
Leave my space,
madness is a reality I cannot embrace.
You are sounding crazier and crazier my dear.

Your analysis of me is hardly based in reality,
clouds of confusion emanate from your overtaxed brain.
For god’s sake man take a break,
have a laugh.

Take the dog for a walk,
milk the goat,
feed the cat.
Sit and dream of your future in a blue poppied field of fancy.

My blue feather will be here soon,
not long now.
The excitement builds in my chest and my equilibrium is steadfast.
Do not worry about my health.

Do not cast a vision onto those pre-cancerous cells
they are long gone and no more.
My health is good, I love my life,
your worries are unfounded.

The only person causing me loss of balance was you
and this is why I needed to say goodbye to our friendship.
You can desire me as much as you please
but I wish you wouldn’t.

Take a step back from your feelings
find another feminine female
I am not the only one you know
and let me spring back into my spiral.

I have found myself
and am free of all past lovers
the residue you each left inside my womb
Is cleansed and gone

There is nothing left from any of you
except one.
His is the only male energy I shall retain.
He who burned his name in blood on my flesh.

Do not try to enter my psychic fields.
Do not use magic to draw me in.
Do not think of me.
I am your past, move forward now.

I have found my niche in life.
To be balanced and whole is all I crave.
And he, my heart, has no bad vibes.
Your imagination mingles with your clairvoyance

Nonsense has been spoken from your mathematical lips.
Madness will not be seeded again.
I remove myself from your space.
Let me go, I belong to another.

Your grey matter is vast, lit up by lightning,
and your wisdom surpasses most.
I’m not for you, I’m an ordinary girl.
A mother, an actress a poet maybe,
but just an ordinary girl.

I watch TV like everyone else,
shop in supermarkets and pay my bills.
Yes I visit planets and stars and fly spaceships when I can,
but I’m still just boring old me.

And I’m in love with a man who is the greatest male
Who ever lived to me.
So leave me be, don’t worry for me,
I’m happy, honest I am.

My spiritual confidante is a woman now,
And I take her wisdom greatly.
My guides talk sense and I listen to them,
even whilst I make the coffee.

So crazy young man grow old with grace,
you are destined for greatness I know.
But I’m no longer your female, don’t look at me that way.
My love was right.

Madness, insanity, bordering genius,
concepts swirl in your head anew,
I cannot keep up, you freak me out.
Basically you do my head in.

I know you don’t mean to,
It isn’t your fault.
You did nothing wrong,
I still honour you.
But you are as mad as a giraffe with a fish on his foot,
As crazy as a cock on a rock.
And if there’s one thing in my life I do not need,
It’s to be loved by a madman.

My Red Bicycle

2006-06-07T11:08:00.000-07:00

They are back together
Reunited in love and faith
what joy!
What bliss!
What conformation of the things she saw in the quantum mirror.

Did she ever doubt it would be so?
Maybe for a nano second
a fleeting moment in time
so small it was barely homeopathic.

And now she can twirl her dotted pink skirts
and show her ankles to the desperate crowd
those prisoners of war haven't seen a woman's feet for seventeen and a half years
and now she dances bold in front of them all.

Painted black nails twiddle as her hands manifest magic
newly painted curls atop her head
her crowning glory
and he smiles wistfully and acknowledges all is as it should be.

She knew it would be so
after the long crawl haul
when the cat spoke to her at midnight
and the clouds tried to reprint the rainbow.

So now she is in a place of truth
and her vibration has been raised to the highest frequency
the secret works she knew it would
if she could smile, she would, as he kisses her full on the lips.

Amethyst

2006-06-06T15:20:00.000-07:00

Hard, disjointed jelly lump
Magical rock of mellow mind
In meditation I hold thee
Under water you are purified.

Your spikes tell a story
Purple hedgehog asleep
Would that I could wake you
I am the Shamrock to your Hilton.

Cold to the touch
But your heart is warm
The festering green mould is never seen
As your weightiness transcends it.

Would that I could eat you
Turkish delight
Sun-dried grape
I can taste your sweetness.

A sandwich of granite
Mineral of bliss
Would that I could own you
And take your free spirit into my home.

Flat raisin
Crunchy crisp
You scratch the surface
And your cuts heal my wounds.

Cliche Clash

2006-06-06T15:13:00.000-07:00

It isn’t very fair
But that’s life they say.
Who are ‘they’ anyway?
I’ll stand by her no matter what.

She turned round and said
‘He made love to me,’
and I turned round and said,
‘well you can have him then.’

I knocked back a few
Til I was as sozzled as a left-footed swan.
I danced in the garden in my nightie,
Singing ‘I will survive,’
Til I woke the neighbours.

‘What a racket!’
the old man cried,
‘You’ll wake er indoors.’

It wasn’t my fault though
I can’t stand lies
And I am besotted with him.

At the end of the day,
It’s all swings and roundabouts,
Do you know what I mean?

Six, six, six.

2006-06-06T09:23:00.000-07:00

On the special sixth day
Of the sixth month
In the sixth year of the millennium
We fairies dance to the music of the spheres.

Love and healing abound
On the six, six, six.
And we dance on the twilight toadstools
And sup the summer dew.

I stretch my wings on the beach of love
Making an aura in the sand.
I close my eyes to ask
To visualise
And then receive.

Your wish is my command
Says the genie of the lamp
And I smile
With glee in my heart.

For today is the day of wishes coming true
Of dreams realised
Of magical manifestations materialising.
Abundance flows along the grid
And we fairies reach out and choose our prizes.

Today I choose love
The love of a romantic kind.
Oh yes,
We fairies crave that too.

But unlike you humans we are happy before our mate appears
and we know him when he does.
Synchronicity smiles on the destined two
Soul mates forever entwined.

Hallarina chose money
Human money
She wants to spend it on boxes of chocolates.
But she already guards the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!

Marshmellow man chose a hermit’s hut.
He packed his bags and went.
But then he came back
Because he realised it wasn’t what he wanted after all.

The King of mermaids ran to the Robin’s nest
Ate lashings of cream and candy.
But he flew the coop from there too
There was only one place he felt at home.

Shalyn drank the nectar from the deep red grape
And was sick as a pig in a sock.
But she took an immune boosting magical blend
And decided to talk to the moon.

Melody chose music and sang like a bird
The energies quickly responded
Cupid drew back his golden bow
But she was already a fairy pop queen.

I wouldn’t change a single thing
In my colourful life today
I’ve been blessed with a crown of copper and gold
And my cup overfloweth with bliss.

Am I lucky fairy?
Why no
Just blessed with wisdom.
And today is the day to open your eyes
And see all,
Know all,
And smile.
On the six, six, six.

Angel

2006-06-03T04:12:00.000-07:00

Dearest Angel,
Fly with midnight wings to your new home in the sky.
May a pink bubble of love keep you safe and well and
have fun chasing all the astral mousies and climbing cosmic trees.

You will never be forgotten by your Mummy Dionne,
and you live on
on Earth
in your bonnie sister bubbles
and your sweet neice Sala
and your nephews Sooty and Tom,
your nephew Jerry will meet you at heaven's gate.

Dance the dance of the magical cats
as you train as a familiar,
a guide,
the highest honour for a cat.

There is a black cat waiting in the shadows by the gatepost,
there is a BLACK CAT.....
telling me that love is on it's way.

Sweet Angel we know that your spirit lives on,
embrace your freedom as you ascend to the next level.
We send our love,
our wishes and prayers.

Have a safe journey to cat heaven
but you know your spirit is always welcome here.
You were just too special to stay on this Earth
and we know you are now needed elsewhere.

We thankyou for the healing you bought when you were here
and we know you will continue to heal
from those other realms.

Magical cat,
witches feline,
black as the raven,
sweet as the stars.

Sleep your sleep with moonbeams in your heart,
dance with the daisies in uncut heavenly grass,
friend of the fairies
fly with the angels
where you belong.

Angel now from cupid's corner
release his arrow to where it should go.
Black cat of power
Black cat of love
live on
in love
for eternity.

Sail with stardust
Fly with feline grace
Run with relish
Jump with joy
for you are now one with the all
and are forever safe there.

Love,
peace and healing to you.
Sweet little girl,
so much more than a cat.

Beautiful spirit with bright shining eyes,
thankyou for the time you gave us.
a real angel came to touch us,
now she returns to her seat by God.

Remembered forever,
loved for all time.
A never ending kiss we send your way,
we won't say goodbye because you are always here.

Purr on sweet girl wherever you are,
with love
to you
Dearest Angel,
I give you these words.

A Haven of fun.

2006-05-30T14:38:00.000-07:00

Rory the tiger dances on the stage
Delighted children squeal with glee
As parents sit with chips and beer
Glad of a brief respite from the day’s demands.

Back to the caravan in all it’s luxury
Central heating and a water filter too!
I’m glad I paid for the gold
No budget deal will do me.

Gossip magazines strewn out on the table
Decaff coffee and a good old read
Victoria Beckham, Katie Price and Chantelle
All look very lovely in their evening gowns.

Never underestimate the influence of Rory the tiger,
says my cyber-friend,
a writer too.
Actually anxious the elephant is my favourite.

I compared him to a Hamster
although I’ve never seen his face
so maybe he is more like a mouse?
Or a bird, a cat or a bear?
Or even a squirrel?

Can we have a badge Mummy?
A teddy? A magic pen?
A glow in the dark insect?
Back to the shops then.

Everything is all under one roof
So even if it’s raining we can still go out.
Play area,
Eating area,
Pool tables,
Bar.

See if you can win a toy
Or get rich on the one armed bandit.
Stuff greasy chips with lashings of ketchup
and hope to win a bottle on the bingo.

It’s all good fun
we must go again
clean the caravan
load up the car.

That’s it kids
Say goodbye to Rory the tiger
Bradley the bear and
Anxious the elephant.

Don’t forget anything
Have you checked under the beds?
Back to real life now
Until the next time.

Fallen Angel.

2006-05-29T10:58:00.000-07:00

Music loud.
Heavy.
The heartbeat to the pulsating, heaving mass of people.
Heads bobbing,
hands waving,
lights flashing.

Bodies blending as one,
the gargoyles feast till they are full,
energies of hell a plenty to fill their grumbling bellies.

Lust,
alcohol fuelled urges,
betrayal of those we love.
He plays away from home but he loves his wife.
He is my boss,
It’s more than my job is worth to tell you what he gets up to.

He provides his woman with his name,
a nice house,
two kids,
pretty clothes,
brand new fridge-freezer.
She lays in her lonely bed while
husband preys on bikini topped willing nubile blondes.
‘But at least he married me,’ she cries,
kidding herself that is all a man need do to show his love.
Commitment not devotion is the order of the day.

Drowning our words the music reaches a crescendo,
couples gyrate in time to the beat,
raising their pulses,
sweating with the heat.
Women parade in front of the men
like pieces of meat on display
then disappear as they move in for the kill.
Leaving them drooling with hunger.
They move on to the next potential meal.

Sparkly red shoes,
Clickity click.
There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.
Dorothy is swept up into the twister of
arm flailing,
head banging,
body swaying power.
Dancers who move and touch and kiss without reason.

Poison seeping through their blood,
wine, beer and nicotine pulling them away
from heavenly levels into the devil’s flames.
Hearts closed,
bowels open,
bile rising in their jewel adorned throats.

A man reaches for his wallet,
pays for his pleasure and the naked beauty dances,
only for him,
showing her flat female form and silicone breasts.

One stray fairy,
having hung up her wings for the night,
wanting to see what lies beyond the veil,
takes human form and dances the dance,
drinks the poison,
and enters Satan’s lair.

Her elemental body cannot hold such evil
and she leans forward,
spewing filth forth from her fae form.

Her King shakes his head in dismay at her unfairylike behaviour.
Lallianna May. You are an evolved fairy soul.
What are you doing drinking poison and falling down the levels
into the stink of human earth?
You should have more self respect.
Shame on you.

Lallianna sleeps on a dew-soaked leaf drinking pure
spring water infused with healing magic.
She slowly recovers from her night of witnessing
the stomach churning debauchery.
She bows before her king as he waves his wand
and adorns her with a new set of beautiful wings.

She tells him that she loves him and promises to behave
like a proper fairy from now on and not a fallen angel.

So the dance of life continues.
Husband still cheats on his wife and clubland
remains the feasting ground for the monsters of hell
and the earth dwelling vampires of the night.
The fairy realm remains as reachable to us as
the fires of hell.
Where would you rather be?

Where lies the truth?

2006-05-27T03:36:00.000-07:00

In mythology we find gods and heroes,
legends, folklore and monsters.
In fairytales we hear of giants slain
and princes on quests to save the
virgin from the dragon
and the princess from the tower.

In theology we find the saviour,
The son of God himself.
Buddha, Krishna and Sai Baba,
Jehovah, Allah, Elohim.
We kneel in prayer and congregate
In worship, hymn and ceremony.

In shamanic practise we see
the master ascend to the skies.
He shape shifts and heals
and returns from the darkest
corners of the earth.
To tell us his tales of celestial angels
and demonic forces of the underworld.

In Paganism the High Priestess talks
of healing and magic and mystic art.
The druid blesses the seasons and
fasts on forest fruit during the sacred ritual.

In psychology we learn of paradigms and theory,
of focusing our thoughts in Freudian therapy.
We study human behaviour and relationships,
breaking into pieces the spiritual in analysis of the mind.

In science we find quantum realities,
electrons, molecules and photons.
Gravity, energy and human cells.
Genetics, string theory and anti-matter.

In philosophy we read Aristotle,
Socrates and Plato.
Discussing ethics, metaphysics and Esthetics.
Politics, reason and concepts.

So where lies the truth of the human seeker?
To which discipline do we turn?
Art, Science, religion?
Mysticism? Shamanism?
Tell me where do the answers to my questions lie?

Why all of them my weary friend,
traveller on the road of knowledge.
Lean not on one but all,
for they are aspects of the whole.
Truth falls to those who seek to unify,
not compartmentalise.

You may travel far and wide,
to exotic jungles and undiscovered civilisations.
Dive to the ocean floor
and climb the highest mountain.

Take a sacred journey to darkest Peru,
or a spiritual quest to Tibet.
Walk through a Labyrinth etched into the grass
at a pagan gathering in a Glastonbury field.

But the greatest journey the human can take,
Is the one within themselves.
To love, to peace, to happiness and freedom.
To become one with the divine, to become whole.

Return to the source from whence you came,
Your father, your mother, your creator, yourself.
But grow firm roots on planet earth,
Anchor yourself to Gaia.

For only then can you fly high and free,
Spread your wings and return to me.
The answers my friend lie everywhere,
In every corner of the cosmos.

Within yourself, within your body,
Your mind, your heart and soul.
We give you a glimpse of what you can have
When you return to your home.

Connect with another of opposite force,
Your equal, your nemesis, your mirror.
It won’t be easy for challenge it brings
but with it the greatest love.

This is the path of the human
that wishes to grow and ascend.
There will be sorrow, regret, pleasure and joy.
Follow the calling of your soul.

Your soul is connected directly to me,
To your higher self, to the Godhead.
Feel this connection, find it in paintings,
in dance, in poetry and in song.

For your life is a story waiting to unfold,
It's been written, it's unwritten you can take any road.
Follow the clues, follow the signs.
Have faith, be strong and embrace love.

The Kettle.

2006-05-27T01:18:00.000-07:00

I find you rather tiresome
With your selfish ways and your self centred thoughts.
Its always me, me, me, with you isn’t it?
No offence to the kettle.

As for you,
Honestly you drive me crazy.
With your patronising comments and shrieks of dismay.
No offence to the kettle.

You young lady need to take hold of your life,
Quit the drinking,
Quit the drugs,
Quit the shouting,
Quit the screaming and grow up.
No offence to the kettle.

I’m not quite sure what to make of you?
I sense jealousy but I’m not sure why.
You seem nice enough
but in you I don’t trust.
No offence to your kettle.

As for you,
I find nothing negative to say.
You are smart, funny and I love you to bits.
You are gorgeous, yummy-scrummy
and I want to eat you all up.
You can have my kettle.

Prince's Quest.

2006-05-27T00:40:00.000-07:00

Come forward my Prince,
lay me down on a bed of roses.
Lower your dark head and worship at the alter of venus.

Taste the forbidden fruits I offer you.
Bite into the juicy peach,
drink sweet wine from my golden chalice.

Take your time.
While I stretch my wings and
fly to a pink palace in the clouds.

When you are finished,
when you have had your fill.
Raise your sword and thrust forward into the depths of the forest.

Climb the mountain and I will be by your side.
I will hold your hand
as you shower me with warm kisses.

When we reach the mountain’s peak
we will lay down on its grassy bed
and you will take me in your arms.

You have found your princess
after following your quest.
The holy grail is yours to keep.

We shall close our eyes
and sleep a restful sleep
dreaming of our everlasting love.

Not enough hours in the day...........

2006-05-26T12:19:00.000-07:00

Slowly stalking sandy stones on smooth.
Slither, movement, snake or hose, doesn’t matter?
I pounce, I bite, I scratch, I squabble with it.
It’s mine, you can’t have it!

Hate him, hate him!
Thought he was my friend.
Thief.
Stolen what was mine, I’ll show you!

Movement again, a leaf? A mouse?
I pounce, I lose it, I pounce, I’ve got it!
You can’t have it,
Oh he’s gone…he’s gone.
Thought he was gonna play with my leaf-mouse-leaf.

Large one on two legs is opening a tin.
I leap through the hole in the door,
Along with the other four.
Mmmm smells yummy whatever it is.

I squeeze my head through the space between the other three,
Older one waits till we’ve finished.
I eat hungrily, quickly, savouring every morsel.
It’ll be hours before she feeds us again.

Yawn! I’m tired now, belly boo full.
Which bed to sleep on today?
I’ll just curl up here on this cushion on the chair,
Let me lose myself in sleep until movement distracts me again.

Hidden code.

2006-05-26T11:27:00.000-07:00

I have a crazy personality,
and connect with universal energy.
I dance in the rain under magical tree,
and research alchemy for my daily love spells.
I’m not an anthropologist even though I love humankind.

I’m in love with a wonderful man,
we have a relationship orchestrated by divine intervention.
Venus looks down and kisses our union,
The elementals rejoice at our love.
But of course, it’s all down to semantics.

When I’ve passed my BA perhaps I’ll study for a doctorate,
On the alignments of Mars and Venus.
Or Neo-astrology in it’s original form,
With all its idiosyncrasies.
An internet exposition of unravelling the hidden code.
I’m a lady in love can you see what I say?

5 5 8 2 4

3 5 1 2 8

11 3 2 4 3 3

The Lovers.

2006-05-26T10:29:00.000-07:00

Dancing with death in a darkened den,
Lovers embrace in the night.
Tongues teasing, lips loving,
a carefree kiss, out of sight, out of mind.

She arches her back and cries out for more.
His hands claiming her soul.
Heaven propelled she screams out his name,
sated and spent in their secret sin.

Her husband is tending her horses tonight,
His wife is safely sleeping.
Only a mile away from their homes,
their lust driven lies continue.

How long has this affair been going on?
How much hurt and betrayal to come?
Yet when she touches his skin under a starry splashed sky,
there is nothing but their two becomes one.

In the dawning daybreak her dreams are no more,
her lover returns to his wife.
She walks in silence past round, roughened rocks.
Recalls her night’s passion and cries.

Forgive me my love is her silent plea,
to the husband she says she still loves.
I can’t keep away from this tasty temptation,
I tried, I promise I tried.

Not good enough his astral voice roars,
you will suffer in silence you slut.
But even the threats of her husband in pain,
cannot keep her from her lover’s arms.

For such is the power of love and desire,
of cosmic-connective-completeness.
So she’ll live with her secret for the rest of her days,
and face her maker at heaven’s golden gate.

Never give up.

2006-05-26T08:58:00.000-07:00

I am here to amuse you when you are bored,
I can make you smile when you feel low,
I will cuddle you closely when you are tired,
and nurture you when you are ill.

So come forward sweet man and walk into my space,
Let yourself be drawn in.
For I will use every tool at my disposal,
I will never give up.

I can focus your mind when you are feeling confused,
and feed you quite nicely when you are hungry.
Comfort you when you are hurt,
dance for you when your eyes sparkle with the needs of a man.

So come forward sweet man and feel my embrace,
Liberate us both,
For I will use magik as witches do.
I shall never give up on you.

When you are lonely I provide company,
When your mind seeks a challenge, I am your match.
When you are weary I will rescue you,
When you feel lost I will complete you.

So come forward sweet man and accept my grace,
Open your heart to our love,
For I will send energy through other realms to you,
I cannot give up, I choose us.

When you need a home, my arms are your shelter.
When you are cold, my body is your fire.
When you are unhappy my smile is your saviour.
When you feel alone I am always there.

Come forward sweet man to a beautiful place,
Remain in the flow of life.
For I will love you as no other could.
You are my life, hope and faith.

Jasmine.

2006-05-26T08:26:00.000-07:00

She was wild, carefree, crazy some would say.
Red furred fury in a fireball fluff,
We loved her.

But nothing, but nothing, would calm her down.
Hyperactive, fast, loud, clumsy,
But we loved her.

When she had her young she calmed down a bit,
She adored her babies.
She was a good mother and put her litter before herself.

Named after the planets, her sons were a miniature of her.
Her daughters had tortoiseshell fur and were little copies of their grandmother.
They were all adorable.

Jasmine was beautiful.
All felines are but she was particularly lovely.
She had fire, spirit and energy.

When the speeding car put that fire out, everyone mourned.
Her loss was great.
The house, empty.

Her presence ever felt.
Her babies had already gone to their new homes.
But now I have a new little girl.

She is a watered down version in colour and ways,
but she reminds me of her.
A witchblade slice of mischief and a willowy stalker of prey.

She too, is beautiful.
Very rare they are, the ginger females.
Prolific breeders, good mothers, confident, wild and free.

Loving, responsive and affectionate.
Jasmine and Willow.
My ginger girls…..

Jasmine darling you will never be forgotten,
With your long flame fur and saucer blue eyes.
And while Missy Witchblade could never take your place.

I see you in her.
Maybe she is a reincarnation of you?
My rare, red furred feline.

I should be so lucky.

2006-05-25T13:33:00.000-07:00

He is sensitive and deep.
Feeling, creative and kind.
He has the greatest capacity for love, tenderness and compassion.
How lucky would the woman be that he falls in love with…
She would have everything.

What woman could ask for more from a man?
He offers protectiveness, friendship and love.
Deeply romantic and so easily hurt….but he does not show it.
He protects his own heart with the same fierceness he would protect his woman.
How lucky would the woman be that he falls in love with…

He would be her best friend, her confidante, her protector,
He would love her intimately with tenderness and passion.
He would make her laugh with his intelligent wit and dry sarcasm.
He would fill her with glee with his childlike humour.
How lucky would the woman be that he falls in love with…

He has so much to offer as a person. The vastness of his personality is ever changing and surprisingly fresh.
There is always more to discover, new layers to uncover.
He is a vast mountain, a tiny stone.
He is a wise and strong man yet at the same time an innocent boy.
How lucky would the woman be that he falls in love with…

He is a feast for the eyes, such is his beauty.
A feast for the soul with energy of rippling water and slow burning fire.
A feast for the female such is his maleness…

How lucky would the woman be that he falls in love with.

How I wish that woman were me…………

Blade and Chalice.

2006-05-25T02:19:00.000-07:00

Waiting in the coffee lounge.
Deep breaths.
Focus.
Balance.
I haven’t seen him for six weeks.

I check the time.
Five minutes.
I relax.
I breathe.
I centre myself.
It’s okay, everything is as it should be.
I am calm.

Suddenly he is there! My heart leaps in my chest and warm tingles spread around my heart chakra. Emotion and spiritual energy mingle together until they become one and the same, taking me by surprise.

I regain my composure and wonder if he sensed that leap in my heart?

I thank god for a lifetime of drama training as I walk by his side to screen one.

A moment of respite is granted me as he goes into the bathroom. I lean against the white wooden railings and take deep breaths again. The strange looks from passers by go barely noticed as I acknowledge the reactive opening of my heart centre at his presence.

Everything those in spirit have told me is true. Separation between us on the physical level has not ‘shut down’ the energy between us, only made it bounce back. Stronger.

Can we explain the connection between male and female? Are there words to express this divine energy we call love?
Chemical changes in the brain perhaps?

Talk to me oh Spirit……explain this reaction I have to him…..

It is but a small piece of the electro-magnetic energy we feel around us in spirit always. You are cut off from this continuous energy whilst in your human bodies. When female connects with male of equal energy, when like attracts like, then this universal energy can be felt by you. It is your own connection with the divine that you experience when you open your heart to another of like energy. Only with your human mirror can you experience this. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. So it is with life and with people. This is the most powerful form of love humans can experience. But it is the love of the true self, the love of god, you experience when you love your human mirror.

He returns.
We take our seats in the auditorium.
My favourite actor graces the screen with presence, charm and talent. He brings to life every character he plays. His intelligence and charisma are spellbinding. Yet even he cannot pull me away from the pleasant distraction of the man sitting beside me.
How I want to touch him. Hold his hand. Rest my hand gently on his thigh. Stroke his hair. Lean my head against him with the comfort of his arm around my shoulders as I would have done. Before.

I try to focus on the film but I am powerfully aware of his nearness as we sit side by side. I’m on his left, he is on my right. I become aware of this as the characters in the film explain that this is the correct placement of male and female.
The female on the left.
The male on the right.
And I acknowledge the fact that we moved seats and were not sitting this way before.

The blade and chalice.
The holy Lord Jesus Christ and his twin flame love Mary Magdelene.
Sacred male and female.
Him and me.

The film is dear to my heart since reading the book and there is no one I would rather be watching this film with tonight than him.
Even if I never see him again (and I know I will) he is here now, watching truths unfold on the big screen, hidden behind the guise of Hollywood fiction.

The sacred feminine and her power cannot be underestimated. The patriarchal figure that is Christ portrayed is a falsehood to cost us dearly. Our spirituality is complete only when male joins with female.

I have learnt much since we have been apart, as has he it seems, as spirit told me he would.

I am a goddess as are all females. We walk our path of wise woman, of warrior of peace and we find ourselves through our men.

I made mistakes but have learnt from them. Mistakes when made only benefit us if they improve who we are.

I am his woman. His goddess. His feminine counterpart.
I love him with everything I have.
I am his.
He owns my heart, my soul and my body.
I was right to make my commitment to him, even when everything on the physical level suggests our union is over.

I remember the words spoken from spirit within those first few days after his leaving……….

You have work to do together.

When will this work be completed?

It is ongoing.

So great universe, I thank you for my lessons. I have learned from the pain and know it had to be like that.
I walk forward, with or without him, and embrace the challenges that are coming my way.

For there is much joy and many rewards when challenges are met head on. I will do the bidding of those in spirit who guide me, as I promised I would. I will do whatever I can to help humanity and the planet ascend to the next level of reality.

And I will hold him in my heart, cherish his energy around me and hold his beautiful image in my mind.

He is my true soul mate, my twin flame, of that I have no doubt. He will be with me always….

When I saw him, after six weeks apart, when I felt the orgasm of my heart, it was in that moment that I died. And went to heaven.

And in heaven I remain…………..

The Remark.

2006-05-20T07:12:00.000-07:00

The remark.

By Petra McGuire

‘We should take a leaf out of our kids books!’ she remarked.
It stuck with me all day;
Bella had hugged the giant monkey.
All the four years of her life she’d been terrified of monkeys!

Jake went up on stage and addressed the audience, he spoke through a microphone!
Something a child on the autistic spectrum is petrified of.
Luke danced! He danced! Luke, so shy, clinging to his mother’s skirts.
He left her side and danced!

Each of the three children had accomplished something.
Let go of their fears.
‘We should take a leaf out of our kids books!’ she remarked.
She was right.

The other half of half-afraid opens many a door.

Brendan Kennelly.

Shoes in the charity shop

2006-05-20T06:40:00.000-07:00

I saw them in the window and did a double take,
One of them was painted with pics of a kind of cake,
I wonder how long it took for that to take?
I love them, they’re gorgeous and utterly fake.

Little low heels and a pointed toe,
I don’t like high heels I prefer mine low,
They wouldn’t be practical for rain or snow,
But I could wear them to my sister’s show.

Which pair shall I buy, the blue or the pink?
My daughter will love em, she’ll want them I fink,
Well I’m not gonna be tied to the kitchen sink,
I’m gonna buy them and go out for a drink.

Charity shop shoes, they didn’t cost much.
And they’ll go just fine with my new pink clutch,
I’m out with my boyfriend we always go dutch,
well, he’s my mate, not quite a boyfriend as such.

I wonder what he’ll think of my new shoes?
I hope they won’t give him a case of the blues.
I feel so pretty in them I really can’t lose.
I’m so glad I found my charity shop shoes.

Orange Kangaroo

2006-05-20T06:16:00.000-07:00

Dancing bare footed on the hill with my mouse,
Running through the woods to find the gingerbread house,
Cracked up and laughing yet you ain’t there,
A mystery ghost with a haunted stare.

I only popped ten yet I’m flying high,
Riding a magic carpet across the pink sky,
Holding your hand, stroking your hair,
But when I look again, you still ain’t there.

My mates say I’m sad to rely on this drug,
But it’s the only way I can give you a hug,
If you were with me I wouldn’t do it,
I made you a promise, I said I’d quit.

But I didn’t know you’d run out on me,
A week before our wedding so you could be free,
To live with a sailor with a tattooed chest,
One day you’ll discover I was your best.

So I’m left broken, an empty shell,
But when I’m on my little pills there’s so much to tell!
I dance, I sing, I jump and I run,
I make love with you under the warmth of the sun.

I fly with giant lizards and swim with the fish,
Basically anything I can wish.
But when I come down I sit and stare,
The truth hits again and you still ain’t there.

Poem of abundance

2006-05-20T03:45:00.000-07:00

You can have anything you want;
Such is the power of the alchemist within.
Spiritual poverty need not be,
You have the winning lottery ticket, you are a billionaire.

Everything can come your way if you let it,
All possibilities flourish within the quantum void we call our universe.
Einstein knew this, Buddha and Jesus knew this.
You know it.

This is your ticket out of depression,
This is your queue to make whatever you want of your life,
Start on the first rung of that cosmic ladder,
And see how quickly you can climb to the top.

So you want to be a writer? You already are!
So you want to be an actor? You already are!
So you want to be in a fulfilling, loving and romantic relationship? You already are!
As you think, so you are.

What you resist will persist,
To quote from the great Carl Jung,
Master of dreams and consciousness.
Create your own reality.

Everything that exists on the higher levels,
Exists within the physical.
You just need to know how to draw these realities towards you,
Let go of fear it is your worst enemy.

Open your heart and soul to trust, faith and respect.
But project those qualities onto yourself,
As well as onto God for you are one and the same.
You are your own greatest teacher.

You are your own master and can have everything you need.
The secret is hidden within your own DNA.
Heal yourself, be strong.
And you will have everything you want.

There are such good things in life…
And they are so good.
Embrace them wholeheartedly.
Embrace them now.

Make happiness and love yours.
Make security and freedom yours.
Make material wealth and success yours.
Make satisfaction and excitement yours.

Visualise your goals,
Climb the cosmic ladder.
With gladness in your heart for all that is.
Embrace oh spirit your humanity.

White Flag

2006-05-14T16:13:00.000-07:00

I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,
Or tell you that.
But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it where's the sense in that?

I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder
Or return to where we were

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

I know I left too much mess and destruction to come back again
And I caused nothing but trouble
I understand if you can't talk to me again
And if you live by the rules of "it's over"
then I'm sure that that makes sense

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

And when we meet
Which I'm sure we will
All that was there
Will be there still
I'll let it pass And hold my tongue
And you will think That I've moved on....

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

DIDO

In the beginning when it was good........

2006-05-14T07:08:00.000-07:00

I can't fight this feeling any longer.
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow.
What started out as friendship,
Has grown stronger.
I only wish I had the strength to let it show.
I tell myself that I can't hold out forever.
I say there is no reason for my fear.
Cause I feel so secure when we're together.
You give my life direction,
You make everything so clear.
And even as I wander,
I'm keeping you in sight.
You're a candle in the window,
On a cold, dark winter's night.
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.
And I can't fight this feeling anymore.
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.
It's time to bring this ship into the shore,
And throw away the oars, forever.
Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore.
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.
And if I have to crawl upon the floor,
Come crashing through your door,
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore.
My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you.
I've been running around in circles in my mind.
And it always seems that I'm following you, girl,
Cause you take me to the places,
That alone I'd never find.
And even as I wander,
I'm keeping you in sight.
You're a candle in the window,
On a cold, dark winter's night.
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.
And I can't fight this feeling anymore.
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.
It's time to bring this ship into the shore,
And throw away the oars, forever.
Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore.
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.
And if I have to crawl upon the floor,
Come crashing through your door,
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore.

REO Speedwagon

Daniel's Cats

2006-05-12T09:34:00.000-07:00

Fluffy, furry big black bear. Squeak in the morning, tiny voice.
Paddy paws, slow pads, pretty old girl.
The first…the Lady of the bunch.
Daniel’s familiar.
Zoe Hawkwind.

Tabby and white gentleman of honour and fairness. The greatest friend, the kindest vibe, the most beautiful eyes. Gentle to humans yet a fierce monster to those baby birds. Leave the frogs alone! Don’t touch that snake slow worm looking thing please!
Sleeps in the day, plays at night. Always by Casper’s side.
Daniel’s baby.
Aztec Tomahawk.

Ginger Lion walking the yellow brick road, off to see the wizard.
Courage you lack like Dorothy’s Lion, yet fiery and fierce you look.
Eyes wide like puss in boots, flowers in your water might help.
Don’t be scared, we love you darling.
Daniel’s friend.
Casper Firefox.

Tiny little terror with the loudest vocals, goodness me don’t you ever shut up?
Hungry, hungry always hungry!
Bubbles’ baby, Angel’s niece…born in Crawley, tiny newborn kitten.
Tabby body and the oddest paws, some pink, some black, a magical cat.
Daniel’s Christmas Banana.
Sala Kayless.

And as for you young lady! Whatever shall we do with you?
Sink walking, sofa scratching, ornament breaking nightmare.
Pale ginger fur and the sweetest face.
Tuna fish wouldn’t melt in your mouth would it?
Crazy, childlike, manic machine.
Cuddles in the morning,
Meow under the quilt.
Operations a doddle, nothing fazes you!
Daniel’s princess.
Willow Witchblade.

Quest to Valdark Island

2006-05-11T15:33:00.000-07:00

Jyma again felt the churning sickness within. This had been happening almost daily for the last month and Jyma had ignored the nagging doubts that had plagued her.

She hadn’t actually been sick but the nausea was unbearable, especially on first rising.

A sip of hot, sweet melba tea seemed to do the trick and settle her stomach for the rest of the day. The nausea returned, however, by eveningtide. Along with nausea came a constant urge to urinate, tender, swollen breasts and an absence of her monthly bleed. Add a little light headedness every now and then and these strange symptoms could mean one thing only. She was with child.

What could this mean for her planned expedition? Captain Blannerhigh would never allow the trip now, not with an heir to the Davener dynasty on the way.
Most women would be shamed if they produced an out-of-wedlock child but since her fiance’s disappearance things had changed drastically.

None of this changed the worries that Jyma was currently undergoing. Her thought were with the expedition and finding her one true love, her soul mate and not with the unborn child she carried, even though she guiltily admitted to herself that Crag would be the last person to authorise the expedition, especially if he knew she carried his child. Oh what was she to do?

*************************************************************************************

The ecstatic feeling that surrounded Jyma settled in her heart as easily as her new born son had settled in her arms.
The place was wonderful and it was something she had only every dreamed of. Who would believe there was such beauty to be found on these Islands?

The porch surrounded by rose bushes, the high ceilings in each room, cool blue tiled floors and matching marble fireplaces. She was in heaven.

Her own room was the cosiest place she had ever known and reminded her, ever so slightly, of her childhood room. Pink frilled bed linen with matching curtains at the little lead light window. The framed picture of her fiancé hanging over the bed gave her a strange feeling of comfort and sadness at the same time. Such conflicting emotions felt simultaneously were too much for the new mother and she carried her two week old son into his room.

‘Of course my darling you will sleep in with me for the first few months, but eventually, when you are little more independent and not waking so frequently for your night feeds, this room will be yours. '

It was a young boys dream. One's eyes were instantly drawn to the rocking horse in the corner which was beautiful and made from real horse hair. Same lead light windows as in her room but this time framed in blue.
Jyma gave a contented smile and rocked Robin gently.

‘You couldn’t be luckier little one with a lovely room like this.’

Maybe the greatest thing about the lovely old house was its grounds. You couldn’t quite call it a garden; it was more of a wood.

‘You could get lost in it,’ thought Jyma, ‘although hopefully that won’t happen. One person lost in the family is quite enough.’

Jyma looked to the huge tower atop the castle on the neighbouring Island; it could be seen quite clearly on a sunny day.

‘Is that where my love is?’ she asked herself.

A chill passed through her and she brushed the sense of foreboding that came with it, away.
She rushed back indoors to the comfort and safety of ‘Willow Hall’.

The search for paradise

2006-05-10T08:55:00.000-07:00

I placed the eagle feather atop the snakeskin next to the tail of a salmon.

I call upon the creatures of the land to help me stay grounded.
I call upon the creatures of the sea to help me see.
I call upon the creatures of the air to help me understand.

I lit the red candle and put the brass tumbler to my lips. The warm liquid tasted bitter and unpleasant but I drank it in one go.

Naked, I climbed into the fur covered bed. The tent was cosy and everything seemed tinged with a red glow. I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me.

I was walking down a long cream coloured path. I was barefooted yet the ground seemed warm and cosy. The trees and flowers glowed a brighter colour than any I'd seen before. The silence rang loudly in my ears and I breathed deeply of the flowery scent in the air.

Be careful...

nagged witch Marria's warning words in my mind...

don't allow the sensations of the dreamworld to overpower you. You may never return to the real world if you do.

I fought against the intoxicating smells and headed for the huge golden pyramid in front of me. It was breathtaking. As I approached I could see an open doorway.

Beware if the place welcomes you too quickly.

A nagging feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

No one will know the answers more than you. It is your dream. Focus your instincts, remember, you are from a long line of seers. The sight will not fail you Karren, not if you trust it.

Could I trust it? I focused with all my might but the doubts remained small and intangible.

Relax when you focus Karren. Don't try too hard.

I relaxed. Instantly the feelings grew from nagging doubts to overwhelming anxiety and foreboding. I knew then, with all that I possessed that this was not the right place.

'Begone illusion. I search only for truth.'

Stay calm at all times girl, else you will awaken before you discover anything of import.

The majestic pyramid disappeared, leaving in it's place a tumbledown shack of old logs, not unlike the treehouse my elder brother made us all those years ago. Yet the treehouse held so many wonderful, childhood memories for me. The feeling of happiness started deep in my belly and grew quickly into euphoria. This was the place! This tumbledown shack had about as much grandeur as a pigsty yet love beamed from it's very core. I understood what Marria meant now when she warned me of the false paradise.

Never take anything on face value in the dreamworld. Listen to your inner feelings over the physical senses . Only the pure of heart will find their way.

The pyramid had been amazing in it's richness and grandeur, yet the simplicity of the shack was far more magical.

Suddenly an eagle swooped down from no-where. I gasped when it spoke to me.

'I am Kreutzet. I am the guardian of paradise. I have three questions to ask of you and only if you answer all three correctly will you be permitted entry.'

Here it was. The test.

The test will only ever contain answers you already know. The questions cannot go beyond your own subconscious.

'Who is Inari?' he asked. This one was easy. Witch Marria and Father Drayne had taught me well.

'He is the rice god of Japan' I answered boldly.

'Correct,' squawked Kreutzet.

'Which type of vampire has the head of an animal, the claws of a bird and the horns of a goat?'

Vampire studies was one of my least enjoyable subjects yet I had learned their folklore well. I pictured the horned, animal headed vampire he spoke of.

'The Utukku.' I replied.

'Again correct.'

I beamed. I was doing well.

'How many dimensions can humans access?'

I groaned inwardly. Science was never my best subject. There were twelve dimensions in all but as we lived in a three dimensional world most humans could only access three of them. Of course there were the seers like myself and my grandmother who could access the fourth dimension. I opened my mouth to say four, then stopped suddenly and remembered witch Marria's words once again.

Most seers communicate with the fourth dimension. But there are a few humans who are permitted access to the dimension above that one. In this dimension resides the guides of spirit. Humans need to access the key of light before they are granted access to this dimension.

I had my answer.

'Five,' I replied, 'Humans can access five dimensions even whilst in a three dimensional body.'

' Well done. All three correct answers. You are therefore granted access to paradise. The answers to every question you could ever ask await you and you will be able to create your own reality. There are clues everywhere. Use your time in paradise well, for it is short. Your mission is to uncover the truth to existence and to have fun along the way. Much luck to you Karren.'

The door to the little shack opened before me, excitedly I walked through. I had waited so long for this moment. As I walked through the door I no longer felt the floor beneath my feet and I felt as though I was floating. I was warm and cosy. Horror crept into my heart as I took in my surroundings, the red glow, the almost burned out candle, the walls of the tent around me. I was back in the waking world! I had been cheated! Where were the answers now? What did this mean? Slowly the truth dawned upon me. I now realised. I knew. I looked up to see witch Marria smiling at me from the doorway of my tent.

Twin Flame Love

2006-04-30T10:09:00.000-07:00

When you connect with your Twin Flame,
Nothing will ever quite be the same.
A magical energy will open up around you,
A connection you simply can’t name.

A unity so deep,
Your true life’s aim.
You will know when you meet,
Your true Twin Flame.

You’ll have a love so strong,
a circle in the sand.
A timeless feeling,
Of standing hand in hand.

Have you met this person?
You will know it’s not a game!
Cherish him, respect him, most of all love him,
or you will lose your Twin Flame.

Being with your Twin is wonderful,
It makes you hold your breath,
but should you lose your way,
The pain is like a death.

So hold on to your love,
make sure you set it free.
Because if you don’t I warn you now,
You’ll end up just like me.

A lesson in faith

2006-04-28T13:46:00.000-07:00

He stands by my side in astral form as real and near as if he were in the flesh. I tingle at his presence. He kisses me on the cheek.

‘Go away.’ I say in my mind as I pay the dentist and usher my children out the door.

‘Leave me alone. What are you doing here? Our relationship is over, the connection has been severed.’

He leaves my aura and I drive home trying to work out why I should feel him so close after I thought he had left my space.

You are back together.

I hear the whispery echo as I’m driving. The sun shines on my heart and familiar spiritual love and excitement pour in.

Why do you tell me these things? It’s not true. He has made it quite clear, it’s over. Finished. Severed. He’s not coming back. He is my ex boyfriend.

Rumbles of laughter hit my clairaudient ears and I feel the laughter in my solar plexus. It is funny. How can he be my ex boyfriend when he is with me and always will be?

Am I going mad?

Give me a sign, I shout, a physical sign.

We will. But you need to learn a lesson in faith. You are back together.

Try as I might to accept the end, sever the connection, they won’t let it lie.

How can I believe them? It isn’t fair for them to fill me with such hope that is metaphysical, intangible. Is it my own unwillingness to let go? But I have let go. I have. I’ve accepted the ending.

I walk into the warm cosy house and set my bags down on the nearest chair. I check the electric meter and my mouth opens in shock.

1.08

I have £1.08 left on the meter. My goodness. 108, the sacred number of God. 108 will only present itself when you are on the right path, when something good is going to happen. It is the sign of belief, of faith. 108. I’ve had many but each time I’m shocked.

Ok, ok I have a sign. It’s proof everything will be ok. It’s not proof he’ll come back.

I boot up my computer. My neck tingles….there is contact coming from him, I check my e-mails. Nothing.

I was wrong. Relax. Get your focus back. It’s over….for goodness sake accept it.

My friend pops up on MSN messenger. I read what she has typed.

I saw him today. He was walking through town slowly with his head down. I said hello, he looked up, looked through me and smiled a faraway smile, it was like he wasn’t even there, like he was stoned or something. He looked really upset.

I saw him a second time just ambling through town looking at the floor. He looked terrible. He looked lost.

Thanks for telling me, I say.

Ok so he is walking round the shops we used to visit, passing the café’s we had lunch, facing his memories as I have done. Ok so he is lost, in a faraway place, hurting like hell. That doesn’t mean he’s coming back. He said he’d stick it out no matter how he is feeling.

But something in the energies changed today. Something shifted.
As I responded to his final ending by cutting my ties, he has been drawn closer.

He must be in terrible pain, truly believing it can never work yet feeling the pain and separation of our love. Is it worse for me? When I know with all my heart that it can work. We didn’t try everything….there is still a way for us….

But he doesn’t believe this.

I want to take away his pain more than my own. I’d rather heal him and take all the pain myself….I would sacrifice for him. I would die so he could live.
How can someone love so much, so unconditionally and not spend her life with he that she loves?

I know I must not make contact. He has to go through this alone, it is his choice. There is nothing I can do but send my healing from the higher levels.

I turn to make a cup of tea and see my smiling spirit friend leaning casually against the doorway.

You are back together.

No. We are not. We are finished and he wants a clean break forever.

That’s him now. We see from a larger perspective. We see your future simultaneously to your present.

I take a sip of hot St John’s Wort tea and close my eyes. I walk to the cloaked figure sitting on the rock in the corner of my psychic space. I thought he had gone. No, he’s still here, blending into the background, hiding under a hood as he did in the real world.

I tap him on the shoulder.

He looks up. What? He asks.

I point to the image of us in the future, smiling, holding ribbon tied hands in unity and bliss.

Look what the guides are showing me. You and me in the future. See, you and me.

It’s not me, he says, and turns away.

I sigh and take another sip of the herbal anti depressant drink.

It’s finished.

It’s over.

I must accept it no matter what my friends in spirit tell me.

Tis a lesson in faith.

It's over

2006-04-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

That’s it.

It really is over, I found out today.
He is not coming back.
There is no hope for reconciliation.

I have to close this chapter on my life and finally accept there will be no more chances. It’s hard to believe only three weeks ago I was in love, blissfully happy with my soul mate. I thought we would never end, infinite, like a golden circle.

Yet now that moment seems a million miles away, those thoughts from another girl’s mind.

The girl in love is no longer me; I am someone else reborn after the most painful death.

Endings create new beginnings.

Death is a doorway to new life.

The astral light around me turns dark as our connection closes down in pain, the opposite of its opening in love.

And…..I dare to look forward. I’ve had enough of looking back.

New buds are forming on the newly planted roses that grow at the foot of my astral doorway. That space turns empty and the black hooded figure that was once my lover, leaves my spiritual space.

I want to cry out, stop him, turn back the clocks, but alas, time has moved forward already and there is no going back. I must move forward also.

What lies on the empty pages now on the book of my life?

Peace, calm, happiness, security, family, success. Perhaps not the same as passion, romance and intimacy yet still life’s gifts to be embraced.

So come life throw at me what you will. I will not give in to these waves of grief. I will not lay down and die. No more sleepless nights and empty days of longing. No more skipped meals and staring at his photo. No more pleading texts and desperate emails.

He is not coming back.

And I will survive.

Cleansing.

2006-04-25T14:50:00.000-07:00

Sending love and healing to us in the past,
Finding peace in my heart at last,
I never thought I’d be strong so fast.

Been on my own to the theatre tonight,
My emotions didn’t put up a fight,
And now I walk forward in light.

Drove past the Indian, our favourite place,
Blessed our union with love and grace,
Painful memories wiped without a trace.

I have to admit, I did shed a tear,
But I don’t want to live my life in fear,
Or turn to a crutch like wine or beer.

I have to be strong, I need to be free,
of the pain I’ve been feeling recently,
but at least I feel like the real me.

Now I’m home and feeling sad,
but with love in my heart I know I’ll be glad,
for I’ll always remember the love we had.

Letting go.....

2006-04-24T13:30:00.000-07:00

Happiness fills my heart,
For the love I once had.
Wisdom spoken from my mouth,
Now I’m feeling glad.

Happy to walk the path alone,
simply because I love life.
Parted from him yet I feel him so near,
always in my heart, his wife.

His love surrounds me,
His words ring in my head.
But I carry him forward,
and follow where I’m led.

I fervently hope,
He’ll return to me some day.
But I realise now,
There is another way.

So I’ll walk in the sun,
as spindly pauper sings,
yet I’ll never stop loving him,
we are joined with astral rings.

Handfasted in heaven,
Our souls stand side by side.
Up there on Level 108,
I’ll always be his bride.

And if he does not come back,
In the third dimensional way.
I’ll walk the path in happiness,
and think of him each day.

Sending love to us in the past,
everywhere we ever did go.
Memories healed, moments cleansed,
Just remaining in the flow.

So I close the door upon us,
I give you a golden key.
Come back if you will someday my love,
til then I set you free.

Yellow Fairy

2006-04-24T08:44:00.000-07:00

I awaken in the dead of night. Where is he? I look to the empty pillow next to me.
Where is he?
Blind panic enters my heart when I realise I have lost my soul mate, my Twin in all things. My heart races as I realise my other half has been severed from me.

I jump on the bed, I jump up and down, I scream his name at the top of my voice and call ‘Where are you? Where are you?’

I am wearing yellow pyjamas. I don’t own yellow pyjamas! Where did I get these?
Confusion reigns, panic grows; my heart charka is filled with a black substance that clings. The pain and grief is unbearable.
Where is he? Why isn’t he here?

I look down at the sleeping form in my bed.
It’s me!

I realise then, I am screaming within the astral realms. He must therefore hear me.

I rush downstairs and ride a yellow car to the place he lives, it is buzzing with people and the walls are yellow.

I am reminded of the time Michael Jackson spoke to me on the astral realms in his yellow rolls Royce with the courthouse painted in yellow.
The night before his trial when he told me he would be acquitted on all counts. The next day the papers held those same headlines.

I park my little yellow car. He comes to me, he puts his arms around me while I wail and sob and scream and shout.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘I’m so sorry. I love you but I must go away now.’
He leaves again.

I am alone once more.
Bereft.

I stand alone in the darkened street next to my yellow car.

I know my sleeping body is wracked with pain and panic and is having difficulty breathing. But I don’t want to return to my body just yet.

I sit on a yellow crystal rock to think. Why has he gone away? Why have we been divided? Separated?

It is temporary. Trust. Have patience. You will be reunited with your soul’s mate when the time is right.

I look down to see a small yellow fairy with gossamer wings and a frilled yellow skirt.

Why am I in such pain?

It is necessary. I am your healing fairy. I am speeding up your grieving process. What would normally take months in most humans we are doing in a week with you. That’s why it hurts. But we will not give you more than you can bear.

This is more than I can bear!

The pain is not beyond your limit. It is in suffering that we experience our greatest growth.

I want him back. Please, healing fairy, please bring him back to me. Give me another chance to make him happy please. We lost our way, but I know I can do it.

You have challenges to face and we haven’t much time.

Haven’t much time? What do you mean?

I cannot explain that right now but know this. All through your relationship you lived in fear. Fear that he would leave you.

I thought about this. I realised it was true. I had been so afraid of him leaving. Every time he became upset, stressed. I thought he would leave and I panicked. Clung on. Gave ultimatums, demands. Stifled him.

Now you live with the fear he will not return to you.

I thought about this. It was true. I desperately wanted him to return. I knew we hadn’t tried everything we could have tried. I saw another road…..I knew it could work if we lived apart. It was our lifestyles that didn’t fit. Lifestyles can be changed.

You are right. What can I do to let go of the fear?

We can help you. But know this. Until you have truly let go of the fear of him not returning, of the fear of living without him, you will not draw him back to you.
Only when you are truly happy to walk the path without him, unconditionally loving him and truly setting him free, only then will you draw him back. It can be done no other way. This is your biggest challenge so far, letting go.

I can’t do it.

Then he will not return.

I remembered the old saying….If you love something, set it free. If it is yours it will return to you, if it doesn’t it never was.

I’ll try to do it I promise.

We, the healing fairies will help you.

I awoke. I lay there in bed, shaking. What a dream! And what awful pain I’m in. I reached for my Bach flower rescue remedy spray….and there, sitting on my window sill was the small, winged, yellow fairy.

I gasped and stared at her open mouthed….what the..?

It was no dream.

I'm home.

2006-04-24T07:42:00.000-07:00

I’m home.
He’s gone.
The house is silent, bereft. His messy things no longer here.
I would rather have the mess.
Yet I complained all the time when it was here……

I’m home.
He’s gone.
He’s taken his things and my laughter along with them.
He made me laugh.
Every day.

His words ringing in my ears,
‘When I’m gone you’ll look back and see I was the best boyfriend you ever had.’
Didn’t he know I always knew that anyway?

He did so much for me.
I’m lost without him.
I can’t move the bunny compost, it’s too heavy.
I can’t wash my car the way he did.
I can’t rearrange furniture like he did.

But I don’t care about those things.
I miss his jokes, his childlike sense of fun.
I miss his spirit.
I miss his caring love.

No one fulfilled me the way he did.
I knew how much I loved him, how special he was to me.
I tried to tell him, to show him, how appreciated he was.
But somehow, someway, I lost my ability to show him how much he meant.

He is a good man.
I want him to be happy.
He loved me so much, he still does, I know that.
Will there be a hole in his life like there is in mine?
Will he miss our laughter as much as I do?

My inner voice tells me he will return to me, to our love.
I believe this to be true.
The universe will not separate those who are meant to be together.
So I will wait.
Until he returns to me one day.

Ascension

2006-04-17T00:21:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we need to just stop,
Take a step back and look with our inner eye,
at the fabric of the universe around us.

Sometimes we need to just stop,
take a breather, relax,
and view everything from an objective viewpoint.

Sometimes we need to die,
in order to live,
in order to be free.

Sometimes we need to die,
in order to be re-born,
in a different form.

Sometimes we need to be crucified,
in order to rise again,
and begin our ascension.

Three years to the day

2006-04-14T13:52:00.000-07:00

What greater power decided this?
That we should part company exactly a year to the day we got together?
Is this what fate always had in store for us?
Three years exactly and then goodbye?

Well happy anniversary my dearest friend,
My soul mate, my lover, my husband that never was.
Three years of happy times, memories to treasure forever.
Three years of confusion, depression and being torn in two, for you.

You loved me, I know that, still do and will.
But the situation was too much for you,
You tried to put up with it but I needed so much more.
Where I saw happiness all you heard was noise.

Children playing, having fun, that’s kids for you I said.
But you weren’t convinced all kids were the same,
Mine were naughty, undisciplined, other kids were different.
But I didn’t see it that way.

Where I saw my genetics growing forward into life,
You saw a pain in the butt,
Where I saw family you saw chaos.
My happy life was a living hell to you.

But you stayed.
Because you loved me.
And I admire you for that,
Being in conflict within yourself isn’t easy.

I thought you’d always stay.
I thought you loved me enough to deal with it.
I thought we’d get married.
How could I have been so wrong?

Problems replaced friendship,
Arguments instead of harmony.
Two people so very right for each other,
In a situation so very wrong.

So what happens now my friend?
What will you do?
How do I live with memories of you everywhere I go?
Will we recover from this?

Will we learn to open our hearts again?
Or do we stay locked in three years of memories of one another?
Never to share intimacy in this lifetime again?
I will miss you.

So what higher power decided this?
Three years to the day?
If coincidence is synchronicity then what does this mean?
Why three years to the very day?

You’ll remove your belongings on our anniversary date.
Start a new life somewhere else.
Well darling I wish you the best in everything you do.
Good luck, take care and goodbye.

When stars begin to burn.

2006-04-14T12:57:00.000-07:00

When stars begin to burn,
and the night begins to turn,
from shadowed light to darkness of blue,
only then do I think of you.

I know you are out now looking to feed,
the thirst taking over and creating such greed,
stalking your prey then moving in for the kill,
and drinking sweet blood til you've had your fill.

I'm sorry I can't join you on your nightly feast
,although I want you, you are still a beast,
I found myself in a murky mire,
when I fell in love with a vampire.

I need to stay with one of my own,
either that or live alone.
I cannot risk getting involved with you,
despite the fact that my feelings are true.

I miss you like crazy, I hope you can tell,
No-one stood a chance when for you I fell,
you are a man of desire, a man of lust,
but in you I cannot place my trust.

For what if you decide to feed from me?
if that happens I'll never be free.
For once I am bitten I shall start to turn,
and the fire within me will begin to burn.

I don't want to be left with a vampire curse,
that's why I write you this little verse,
to explain why I left, why I ran from our kiss,
why I can never repeat that night of bliss.

So I look to the skies and set my thoughts free,
and hope that maybe you are thinking of me.
My life is ahead of me, I have much to learn,
For now I stay here and watch the stars burn.

Nature goddess

2006-04-12T08:36:00.000-07:00

Girl emerges from the water,
She has green veins threaded through her hair,
Dotted with lilies, both big and small.
Cream and orange.

Dragonflies for hairclips and vines for veins,
Threaded through her hair.
Peach lips pursed and emerald eyes,
a beauty if I ever saw one.

Green veined vines curling through her russet hair, dotted with flowers.
Peach blushed pale perfection rising from the waters.
Lady of the lake,
Serenity.
Youth.
Creation.
Nature entwines with humanity as the princess of the waters shows herself.

Queen of the waterways,
Princess of Pisces,
Neptune’s love.

Her earthly vines circle her forehead like a crown.
Dragonflies perch upon her, she is their natural resting place.
Her hair is entwined with vines,
Like veins.
Pumping nature, not blood, throughout her ethereal body.

I look closer,
Look away from those hypnotising green eyes.
And I see,
To my amazement.
That the vines entwined throughout her glorious hair,
Are growing out of her head.

Part human, part plant.
Daughter of Poseidon,
Wife of Pan.

And I realise,
For the first time in my life.
I am in love.

I weep,
For this glorious aspect of divine femininity,
This goddess of the sea.
Can never be mine.

She belongs to the earth,
She belongs to the air,
She belongs to the water.

And she leaves a fire in my heart,
That can never be quenched.
I regain my composure,
And turn away from the bubbling stream, the lily covered pools.
And return home.
To the bustling city, the brick built buildings, the money machine.

That swallows me up every day.
There is no place for her.
In my world.

I will always long,
For the touch of her hand.
For her to rein natures kisses on my face in the rain,
And splash droplets of desire upon me with her dragonfly wings.

Emerald eyed goddess I will dream only of you.
And one day,
When I’m done with this life.
I will come back to you.
And with another turn of the wheel,
I shall be one with nature again.

A215 Blogs

2006-04-12T05:49:00.000-07:00

http://www.restlessdreaming.com/

http://wjohnd.blogspot.com/

http://a215guineapig.wordpress.com/

http://lamorna.blogspot.com/

http://restrictedvision.wordpress.com/

http://www.xanga.com/StealthBuda

Paintedsmile.

2006-04-12T02:08:00.000-07:00

Picking up that purple eyeshadow, looks too bright, don’t know if I like what I see maybe it won’t look so good under the lights, clashes a bit with the red lips but then so what, I’m a clown I’m allowed to clash, I’m allowed to have a messy flat leave my socks in a pile leave the washing up for days no food in the cupboard haven’t opened the windows for weeks so what? I live on my own what’s it to them anyway bloody control freaks trying to control everything where in the hell am I supposed to go now? Think I will go for the purple, how about a different colour over each eye that’s novel no it’s not Mr Funny did it last year one eye was green and the other was blue so what no-one will remember I’ll do it and keep that smile don’t let that lipstick fade under the lights a clowns smile is his greatest asset so what if I forgot to flush the toilet I’m the one that had to live there for goodness sake what are they trying to do to me? The homeless clown, hey I could start a new life bit like a tramp do a skit on Charlie Chaplin why not? He had a sad life too look at me all smiles they are as false as the painted mouth no one can see that I’m crying inside don’t let the buggers grind you down always look on the bright side of life like Monty Python says Oh I’m on here goes finishing touches lets worry about where I’ll sleep tonight after the show the show must go on big smile big big smile for Co-Co the clown that’s me always happy very funny loved by all mustn’t forget that bottle of whisky I stashed in my bottom drawer I’ll drink that later when the lights go down.

Dearest Mildred

2006-04-07T06:43:00.000-07:00

Dearest Mildred,
I write to tell you of the latest goings-on in my life. You know how much I love to write to you and how I look forward to receiving your letters.
I know we are far apart, dearest Mildred, but I hope someday we shall be married. I intend to propose to you formally the next time we see each other.
I have money put away to buy you any engagement ring of your choosing.
Money means nothing to me. If I have it, I give it away.
Why only last week I made a huge gift of 800 english pounds to the charity for animals. They came knocking on the door and showed me some frightful pictures of animal cruelty. Personally I don’t think they should show these shocking pictures to the general public, surely it’s their job to deal with these issues and shield us sensitive souls from the harshness of the reality of cruelty. Even so, I felt I should make a generous and charitable payment to their company. Maybe with the right funding they will be able to afford to keep the shocking imagery to themselves.
I know you posses a cat yourself dear don’t you? Why you wouldn’t want to see pictures of cats being harmed now would you? You wouldn’t want to imagine it was your dearest Whiskas? Or did you say your cat was called Smartie? Oh whatever, I don’t have much time for animals myself I must say. Not unless they are plopped on my plate with a hearty serving of potatoes and gravy. Oh what funny jokes I make my dear. What a splendid sense of humour I have. You must rejoice when you receive my letters and long for the day we are married. Do not fret my dearest love; it shall not be long now.

I know you wish for a large and grand affair. That’s fine and I’m happy to do the whole thing in a church if that is what you wish, not that I’m a religious man. Mind you, I do go along to church once in a while, if only for appearances sake and to please my dear Mother, God rest her soul. I gave a hearty donation to the church fund last time I went along. 500 English pounds. Almost as much as I gave to those wretched animals.

The RSPCA knocked on the door again this week, asking for more money. Can you believe the cheek of these people? I told him to bugger off, scuse my language dearest but I think one donation of 900 pounds is enough for one lifetime don’t you?
No one can say I’m not an animal lover after that can they? But the damned charity (scuse my language again dear) can’t expect to bleed me dry can it?

So about the wedding. Moderation where moderation is due my dear. I know you are a dress size 16. So I have taken the liberty of ordering a lovely second hand wedding gown from the ‘offered’ column in the local newspaper. I’m sure you won’t mind but it was a bargain at only 25 English pounds. It’s a little on the yellow side but Mrs Didgebury from next door said all you’d need to do is sprinkle a little talcum powder over it and it’ll be as good as new.

Bridesmaid’s dresses are rather unnecessary I believe therefore I’ve decided we don’t need any. I’m sure you won’t mind.
We can cut costs on the flowers by picking them from your lovely garden and Mrs Didgebury has kindly offered to bake the cake.

I have a splendid old suit that I purchased seven years ago for my father’s funeral. It will do just fine as I have only worn it once.

I haven’t a clue who I shall ask to be my best man, as you know I’m not given to socialising so I couldn’t possibly decide who I could call a ‘best friend.’ Perhaps your dear brother John might do the honours? I know I’ve only met him the once but he seemed a nice chap even though he does work in a shop.

Anyway my darling, money is no object where you are concerned. Start looking at rings now; I want my wife to have the biggest diamond on her finger just to prove to the entire world how loving and generous I am.

I cannot wait for the big day.

Until we meet again my darling Mildred, I shall dream only of you.

Yours most faithfully,

Gerard Tightass.

Memory Chip

2006-04-06T11:28:00.000-07:00

I thought I would always remember this but over time it has become blurred. Why? I always thought I had a good memory especially if those memories were filled with her. The night she wore the powder blue flowing evening dress I shall never forget. Or was it mint green? It matched her eyes I know that much. What colour were her eyes? What happened to me? I remember going into surgery at Polestark United Hospital to have the memory chip implanted. It cost a bloody fortune. Why is everything so foggy then? I paid for the best treatment. Sometimes I wonder if my wife was right and it was just old age. She said so only yesterday,

‘Charly love, they didn’t do anything untoward at the hospital. You got the best treatment you know. It’s old age dear that’s all. Non important memories don’t stay when you’re old dear.’

But she wasn’t a non-important memory. Not her. She was the love of my life. But my wife wouldn’t know that would she?

Her eyes were blue, definitely blue. Definitely. Or were they brown? How I fight to keep her image alive in my head. Why is this? It’s almost as if someone had deliberately wiped her image from my mind, if I didn’t know better……

She was beautiful, I can’t forget that. I can’t forget my feelings for her either, I loved her so much. What happened to her? Where is she now? Why didn’t she say goodbye?

I remember a funeral. It wasn’t hers though, it was someone else’s. But I was crying. Why was I crying? I didn’t care about anyone other than her.

There was a child. A girl. Red hair, or was it black? Whose child was she? Was she mine? Did I have a daughter? Mary. That was her name, Mary. My daughter Mary, with red hair like her mother. How could I forget.
But my wife has brown hair.

‘We didn’t have children love,’ she said when I asked her, ‘you never wanted children, remember? You said they would drain your finances and destroy your heart.’

Did I say that? Why?

I was there when she was born. It was the most wonderful moment of my life. Where is she now? Was it her funeral? My daughter’s? My Mary, my sweet Mary.

‘You so confused dear,’ says my wife.

I didn’t pay for the surgery to become confused. That damn memory chip. It cost me a bomb and my memory is worse than ever. But only when I think about her. And about Mary. My daughter.

‘There was no child Charly dear. We don’t know anyone called Mary. Stop rambling dear and rest, you’re tired.’

I’m not bloody tired and I’m not bloody confused!

What happened to the woman I loved? What was her name? What colour were her eyes?

I wish I could remember. Why can’t I remember?

Who is my wife talking to now? Always on the goddamn phone. Who is he shouting at saying it didn’t work. What didn’t work?

‘I was discussing the washing machine my love.’

But there’s nothing wrong with the washing machine. Its fine, works like new.

I remember when I bought it. Remember with such clarity. It cost one hundred and eighty two pounds, I remember that.

Why can’t I remember her? She was beautiful and so slim. Except when she was pregnant but even then she was still beautiful.

She was pregnant! I was so happy when she told me. I picked her up and twirled her around in my arms, smiling, shouting. I was to be a father! Praise the Lord!

‘There was no child dear,’ says my wife more sternly now, ‘lie down. Take your medicine, you’ll feel better.’

Goddamn medicine. Poison more like, I don’t want it!

Better lie down, I am tired.

What are those men doing here, what do they want?

‘They are your friends dear. Jack and Terry. Remember?’

No I don’t remember. Never seen them before in my life, who the hell are they? And why are they wearing Polestark United Hospital uniform? What’s going on.

Taken my medicine. Feel better now. My wife is right, I must sleep. Must rest.

Oh there she is, my beautiful Penelope. That was her name. Penelope. Holding the baby, our lovely daughter.

Where is she? What happened to her? Where did she go? Why didn’t she say goodbye.

Penelope I love you, I love you, I love only you.

God I’m sobbing now, why am I sobbing?

‘I love you too dear,’ says my wife, ‘rest now dear. I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.’

Blasted Banana

2006-04-06T09:39:00.000-07:00

I bumped into Damalin yesterday, literally! I was walking up westward parkway and tripped on a banana skin. Cliche I know but then the parkway is full of apes. Why they can’t leave their damn banana skins in the bin instead of on the path is beyond me. It’ll take a death before the council sit up and take notice!

Anyway, just as I was pulling myself to my feet along came some roller skating freak in dark blue sunglasses and a Fred Frampton T shirt and he ploughed straight into me. Yet again I ended up in a heap on the floor. I opened my mouth to ask the twat what the hell he thought he was doing riding around like a loony in the middle of the day on roller skates and promptly shut my mouth again. Of all the parkways in all the universes he had to rollerskate into mine. I never thought I’d see him again after what happened and certainly not like this. Not with a banana skin stuck to my left foot and him looking like a jerk in a designer label T Shirt and shades. What ever happened to his philosophies on slave labour?

Of course he wanted to talk to me, to ‘chat about old times’ he said. I owed him that much I guess so we went down to the hot drink palace down svedford street and ordered a gin tea and crackerswat each. Stupid of me really, I never could handle my crackerswats, I was pissed as a fish after half a glass. He didn’t think it was funny that I was such a lightweight and insisted I tell him where the other twin was.I’d always known this day was coming but it didn’t make it any easier telling him I’d allowed the vampire community to take his baby when he was only five weeks old. He didn’t understand why I hadn’t contacted him to come and get the child. The fact that our bargain was that he keep one twin and I keep the other made no difference to him, he wanted our children away from vampire influence.

My protests and explanations of having to give young Lydy away fell on deaf ears. He didn’t care that he was showing all the signs of being a full vampire, he didn’t care that I believed the best place for him was with his own kind. He was our son and we had an agreement. When the boys were ten we were to swap them over and I would raise Morchacha while he took Lydy. That wouldn’t happen now. Not unless I could find Lydy amongst the vampires. I promised Damalin I would try.

I have three years in which to fulfil that promise. Three years til the twins tenth birthday.

And I so want to see my sons again.

Moral Dilemma.

2006-04-06T09:13:00.000-07:00

I so desperately want to join the dragon rider’s convention but they won’t allow it. The entrants must be human only. Although I look, act and smell human, my Father was a well-known vampire. However my conception and birth has been kept secret amongst the human community here on Dresnin and I have a false birth certificate. I doubt that I would be found out…..yet..morally it would be wrong to trick the convention organisers, a company of human beings I have the greatest regard for.

My brother, Grad, is on the convention committee and has sworn he will keep my secret with his life. I am a good rider and have worked so hard taming my bluestar mountain steed for this competion. He is fast flyer and is large for a bluestar. He’ll give the goldens a run for their money! I have dreamed of the time when I would be able to sit atop my steed and fly with the best of them. My brother has always said I’d be a top dragon rider one day, yet how can I lie about my origins this way?

I am no threat to humanity with my half breed status so why is my kind being outcast this way? It isn’t fair. Yes, I do drink blood like any other vampire but its a delicacy for me and not a necessity. I’m just as happy with fish and chips!

I’ve got twentyfour hours before I have to register my name with the convention. Guess it’s make your mind up time.

2006-03-04T13:25:00.000-08:00

Loving someone you can't have,
it really is a bummer.
If he don't want me I'll get someone else,
a sexy, long haired drummer.

I like the musical types,
they are all quite emotionally stable.
Guitarists, singers and didge players too,
I bet they're all quite able.

All I want is to be satisfied,
driven to a sexual peak.
A man can do it, I know he can,
a man who can make me squeak.

Can you guess?

2006-03-03T13:29:00.000-08:00

Loud Ones, quiet ones, silent ones, frightened ones,
smelly ones, sticky ones, icky ones, tricky ones,
eggy ones, meaty ones, leaky ones, creaky ones.
Can you guess?

Ones that take you by surprise,
ones you planned for a laugh,
social disgraces,
mistakes made whilst tying your laces.
Can you guess?

Real humdingers,
Putrid,
muted,
reminders of last night's meal.

Gone off sprouts,
rotting flesh,
dead rats,
stinkbombs and blasts.
Can you guess?

Little pips,
long drawn out grumbles,
vibrating gunkles and ones that follow through.
Wet ones,
dry ones,
rumbles and crumbles,
we didn't make it to the loo!
Can you guess?

So what have I been describing?
These idiosyncratic habits?
Some would say 'how creative.'
Modernist bottom art.
Have you guessed?
You've got it, it's the good old fart!

Tramp of filth and stir

2006-02-26T12:56:00.000-08:00

He walks the streets of filth and stir,
drowned cries borne from nothing,
Piss soaked stain on jeans of old,
No wash, no bath, no water.

His food is sugar and bits of bread,
His drink is alcohol and a sip from the river sludge,
dirty roads are his home,
a park bench is his bed tonight.

Why and what and should it be?
Charity begins no-where,
Christmas-a-coming, nothing for him,
But shit-stained-snow and bloodshot eyes.

His life is over, it never begun,
his story can only be told.
Doorway for a home, a bench for a bed.
Tyre splattered kerb for a grave.

There will be no funeral, no-one knows,
family long lost and gone.
The only mourner a straggly stray dog,
and the crows to whom he fed the crumbs.

So next time you pass him, chuck him some dosh,
Don’t walk on by the beggar you bugger,
back to your telly and leather sofa,
I hope you can sleep in your feather bed.

Nice and warm with your central heating,
In your palace of material wealth,
Look to the other side, flip that coin,
Open your eyes to hell.

I wait

2006-02-26T05:17:00.000-08:00

I sit in my room.
I wait.

There is a bed, a lamp and some water.
In this room is a large window.
Once, the window was closed.
But now, it remains open.
Always open.

Sometimes, at night, he visits me.
I tremble in fear when his ghostly cloaked figure fills my room.
My only visitor.
I tremble, for the fear of my own desire for him.

For when he has finished with me, he will leave me.
Leave me empty and alone.
Bereft and silent.
Yet strangely fulfilled, nourished by his consuming of me.

He lays me down.
On the bed.
I cannot see him, only feel him.
‘My Lord, please don’t,’ I whisper to the invisible force.

My cries of protest are in vain as his teeth sink deep into the white flesh of my throat.
And he drinks.
Slowly and hungrily he drinks from the core of my being.
I cry out, with ecstasy.
My legs part involuntarily as I feel his astral desire thrust within.

I then leave my room and he takes me upwards, to the vast heavens beyond.
We pass by planets and stars, entwined together in the universal blanket of the all around us.
My climax is quick and intense.
I arch my back and cry out.
Cry out with a passion and a force like nothing I ever knew before my life in the room.

My female cries of release are felt by all the male elements within the universe.
Some come forward to challenge my Lord to his right of me.
He lifts his glorious dark head from my breast and growls with deathly fury at their approach.
They retreat.

No male force will challenge my Lord for my love.
My desires are only for him and as he drinks from my life-force he is empowered with strength.
He retains his place in the universe.
His lust for me is never ending.

Unlike the mortal male, he will take his pleasure, again and again and again.
When he is finished he lays me back on my bed, back in my room.
‘Don’t leave….’ I cry.
‘I will never leave you, you are mine. I will return.’

So I wait.
In my room.
I drink my water and look out of my window to the vast green trees and lakes beyond.

I sit in my room.
I wait.

Computer generated poem!

2006-02-19T12:02:00.000-08:00

Can a computer write a poem as we can?
Here is my computer generated poem...
judge for yourself.

My Love

Your skin glows like the Apple, blossoms smile as the rose in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your drum voice and leaps like a pig at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great parrot wing.
I am comforted by your knickers that I carry into the twilight of chairbeams and hold next to my neck.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of water.
As my leg falls from my trousers, it reminds me of your television.
In the quiet, I listen for the last scream of the day.
My heated toes leaps to my dress.
I wait in the moonlight for your secret table so that we may having as one, toes to toes, in search of the magnificient pink and mystical computer of love.

http://www.links2love.com/poem_generator.htm

To write.

2006-02-19T11:30:00.000-08:00

To write.

How does one write, one minute of a vampire,
with his thirst for blood and lust for flesh?
Then speak of angels and faeries in their rainbow coloured existence?
Winged creatures of glory, exuding love and divinity.

The story of the vampire, based on Satan himself, prince of darkness,
all that is evil, dark and cruel.
The faeries from the light are the epitome of heavenly wonder,
surely little friends of Christ, with a direct link to the godhead.

How then, can one writer portray such a dichotomy of characters?
When surely these beings live at opposite ends of the spectrum.
'But you must’ cries our tutor, 'you must, if you want to write,
stretch yourself in all directions my students! Listen now.'

So a man writes as a woman, a woman as a man,
a fifty year old male author writes as a thirteen year old girl,
a twenty five year old female author becomes a seven year old boy.
Some of us write as old Aunt Aggie and her attic of antiques.
Others write stories of a drowning boy, cast aside by his wicked stepmother.

Some favour boats and stories of the stormy seas,
others like writing of horses and the thrill of the ride.
Fast cars, expensive shoes and gourmet meals,
the birth of a child, the loss of a loved one.

Me I write anything obscure, anything weird and wonderful,
I love clowns and angels, mermaids and witches,
a man half goat, half human.
Blood sucking vampires in the dead of night,
the faery realm dancing to the firefly’s light.

Best of all I love my dragons,
those majestic winged beasts exuding power and glory,
and a daffodil white unicorn with her deep blue eyes,
would be a glorious creature to write about.

As long as you 'feel' your character,
be it adult, child, beast or gnome,
then write,
keep writing,
don't stop,
and inspire your readers to find some escape,
from their lives,
into your dreams.

Come fly with me,
to a magical land,
where Karma flows,
on golden sand.

Come fly with me,
on a magic carpet of love,
where the characters you read of,
fit your heart like a glove.

Come fly with me,
up that haunted tree you climb,
where stories delight you,
and poems don't rhyme.

Come fly with me,
fly like the birds,
come enter the world,
and feel the magic of words.

Division

2006-02-15T04:12:00.000-08:00

Division.

As I hold your hand,
see your face contorted with pain,
I fervently wish I could do this for you.

You are too young,
just a baby yourself,
how can you do that which is a woman's job?

You surprise me then,
with the strength of your resolve,
no screaming, no tears, just working with your body,
nature takes it's course.

I needn't have worried,
you did it, you did it!
And in that moment I realise,
you are no longer a girl,
but a woman.

I watch in awe as your tiny daughter struggles to make her entrance into this world.
Just as you did...
the circle of life unfolds before me,
daughter gives birth to daughter, mother watches from the midwife's space.

How can I love this precious child as much as my own offspring?
Why is the maternal pull so powerful to that that I did not birth myself?
Because the child I birthed created this young human child,
and the feeling is no different.

The powerful surge of unconditional love washes over me,
it surprises me every time this happens,
I am powerless to resist,
this 6lb 1oz tiny human holds my heart in her hand.

Protectiveness for her life is instant,
love's opposite, fear, also rears it's ugly head.
I push it away and bask in it's nemesis,
the tears fall uncontrolled.

I look up,
I see the child's father's tears fall in time with my own,
we hug, lost in the wordless moment of utter bliss.

This is what we are made for, this is why we are here,
to create,
to recreate,
and recreate again, god's legacy to his children.
To be total universes in ourselves,
dividing and dividing as the universe does.

And I turn,
to this latest division.
I see my child, my girl, my daughter,
the one I bought into the world myself now has a daughter of her own.
Where has the time gone?

Again, I send up a silent prayer,
let me stay on earth long enough to see this child grow....
to be there when she too births her own daughter.

And so the female line continues,
I rush to the house of my grandmother,
still pretty and serene and the picture of health in all her ninety years,
'Nana! You are a great, great grandmother!'

The wonder of life transcends everything,
the mundane, debts, who said what and guess who is going out with who, means nothing.
The bigger picture beckons always to those who see it.

One more person to worry about,
one more person to love.
She looks so young,
my sweet daughter,
with her blonde ponytail and fresh make-up-free face,
and I smile,
as she offers her breast to her hungry babe.

I can leave now,
they will be alright,
I've been fussing and worrying like a mother hen for nine months,
now I can retreat,
back to my own life,
and the blank pages that beckon.

The little one's father takes my daughter's hand,
just children themselves but a moment ago,
now they are parents and have entered the adult world.

My dear girls,
they will be fine.
They will be just fine.
So I turn to my quill, and write.

Welcome to the world Gracie Mae,
these words are for you.
From your loving Nana x

Birth announcement

2006-02-14T05:58:00.000-08:00

ANNOUNCING THE BIRTH OF MY GRANDDAUGHTER

GRACIE MAE

BORN 12.02.2006

WEIGHT 6lb 1oz

Mother and baby doing fine.

Proposal

2006-02-09T11:23:00.000-08:00

Proposal

I'd like to get married,
but maybe not just yet.
An engagement I would like first,
but it ain't gonna happen I bet.

My boyfriend says he isn't ready,
Doesn’t need to hear that wedding bell,
while I see marriage as the ultimate goal,
he sees it as a living hell.

He says all is fine as it is,
why change something that's already great?
but marriage has been something I've always wanted,
I don't want to have to wait.

My boyfriend is nearly thirty,
we've been together almost three years,
but if we can't agree on taking the next step,
It’s going to end in tears.

I wish he understood,
that he is the one for me.
That's why I want to marry him,
and be a happy family.

I don't believe in pressure,
an engagement should be fun.
Drinking wine in a posh restaurant,
laughing in the sun.

I'm not the only girl,
who seems to have reached this place.
I've read all about it on the internet,
about men who ask for space.

It seems men see marriage as a loss,
of choices and feeling free,
why can't they see it as a compromise.
A pact of love between you and me.

If we were just to get engaged,
if only he would buy that ring.
I know I'd be so ecstatic,
I'd shout and dance and sing.

Valentine's day is coming up,
that brings to my eyes a sob,
Coz loads of couples will be getting engaged,
but that question he won't pop.

I've tried to make him understand,
how very much this means.
Girls play 'weddings' when they are small,
and think about relationships in their teens.

To women it's the greatest thing,
a fairytale dream come true.
Why won't my boyfriend get engaged,
it makes me really blue.

So darling if you are reading this,
please listen hard and see,
how very much I love you
won't you please please marry me?

blog

2006-02-08T16:12:00.000-08:00

There is a blog I read,
each and every day,
to the author of this fascinating blog,
I should like to say;

you convey depth of emotion in your writing, more so than most writings I come across, most publishable works.
Do not depair, most of all, do not give up!
But continue dreaming,
continue writing.
Don't stop.
Your raw talent jumps out from the page in abundance, your words speak to the reader with clarity, you were born to write.
You were born to move the reader, everything you feel right now is part of the journey, you must go through this, however painful it may be.
However unfair it may seem,
it is all for a reason,
one day,you will see.
Your writing angel visited you when you were but a child, and now she speaks through you, loud and clear.
You will pass your exams, pass your tests, new challenges will come, you will pass them also.
And you will write words that many shall read.
That I shall read.

There is a blog that I read,
as often as I can,
I love to read this lovely blog,
of this blog I am a fan.

Commitment

2006-02-08T15:50:00.000-08:00

When you find the right man to love,
You want to know that it will last.
No matter how wonderful a man may be,
Without a proposal you can never feel complete.

I’ve read this advice on a relationship site,
Is it true, is it right?
I know it is for me, for lots of women.

I know I’ve met the man,
I want to spend my whole life with,
But does he feel the same?
He says he loves me but…..

He knows that I want marriage,
Commitment.
He knew this from the start.
He said that because I was older than he,
I knew what I wanted.

But he hits the big three oh in the summer,
We have been together for three years.
Will he ever propose?
Or accept a proposal from me?

Am I wrong to want this commitment?
I know it’s hard for him,
But is it fair that I should wait for something that means so much?

People say ‘why do you want marriage so much?’
‘What difference will it make?’
‘Concentrate on having a wonderful relationship,
why push for a piece of paper and a ring?’

Well I’ll try to answer this one,
It’s quite simple really.
Marriage is a statement, the wedding is a spiritual ritual.
A couple is joined magically, when they wed in love.
Marriage is the greatest gift, my boyfriend could give to me.

Surely if he loves me,
He’ll give me this one thing?
Marriage to me means unity, togetherness, happiness, completing the circle.
Just mentioning the ‘M’ word to him seems to spark off rage!
Why?
Does he feel,
Trapped?
Pressured?
A loss of personal freedom?
A loss of personal choice?
When I see,
The ultimate security,
The ultimate bond,
Personal freedom enriched,
Personal choice increased.

Why so different, Men and Women?
God’s little joke on us was that!
We are from different planets they say,
Yet Men do marry women,
Every day.

Why?
Won’t my man?
Marry me?

So what do I do?
Give an ultimatum?
That could go either way, that’s taking a big gamble,
When the result one is looking for is ‘a marriage proposal’
And one could end up with ‘never seeing him again’

Could I really live with ‘never seeing him again?’
Up until now the answer has been no.
That’s why I’ve never given that ultimatum.

But what about when he is away?
This changes everything.
We can’t afford to communicate, mobile phones are all we have,
Text messages misunderstood.

Need for security increases tenfold,
Especially when he is living with two other girls and a guy.
Two happy couples.
I know that’s far from the truth,
But it’s a ‘big brother’ scenario
And puts pressure on a couple.

So I’ve decided.
I can wait to get married.
Period
But the promise of marriage one day, an engagement, I would like.
Love.
Really Love.
Now.

If he is around, on a daily basis,
I can wait a bit longer.
Just a bit.
But if he goes away again,
That pushes things further.
I need the security of knowing he has made that commitment.
When he is far away….
It matters not about misunderstandings,
I don’t need to hear ‘I love you’ every day.

I’ll have a ring on my finger,
A never ending circle of gold.
(Well, silver actually, I don’t like gold, that’s another poem!)

And when I look at that ring,
A smile to my face it shall bring,
And my heart shall sing,
Tring a ling
Look at my pretty bling.

But will it happen?
Will he make that promise of marriage?
I don’t know.
I guess it’s 50/50

How much does he want to be with me?
How much does he want me by his side throughout his life?
How sure is he that he can live without me?

I don’t know the answers,
Neither does he.
But one thing’s for sure,
We want different things,
And it can’t go on like this anymore.

I’ve tried to push away my desire for marriage,
Tried to pretend I can live without it.
It’s not that I want marriage more than a good relationship, that’s silly!
It’s that I want the marriage to seal the golden crown on an already wonderful relationship,
So I know, in my heart, he has given me the ultimate commitment.
And commitment, while to a man may mean ‘shackled’
To a woman, it is the greatest gift of love.

So?
Will you marry me?

Or will you leave me?

And if you leave me, will you come back?

And marry me?

Or am I destined for another……?

Unfaithful

2006-02-05T08:03:00.000-08:00

Daniel is at the cinema,
He had to get out of the house,
He’d had enough of tipping around,
Quiet as a mouse.

Things were fun at first,
He thought he’d got new mates.
But soon there was noise and rows,
The very things he hates.

Why do people do these things
Make complications of their life?
The other actor has a girl,
Promised to be his wife.

But temptation was put in his path,
In the shape of pretty Kirsty.
If sex were wine he soon discovered
That he was pretty thirsty.

Flirtatious looks, comforting cuddles
Something raunchy in the air.
Conversations spoken loudly
‘shall we have an affair?’

Mobile phone in his pocket,
Accidentally switched on.
Answer phone messages left,
the damage is done.

His girlfriend checked her messages,
her blood ran cold.
Betrayal, lies, unfaithful cheat!
she stared at her band of gold.

Does this ring mean anything?
He promised we’d be wed.
But our dreams are shattered now,
When he took Kirsty to bed.

‘Nothing happened’ he protested!
‘I’m innocent! I swear!’
I thought you loved me, his girl cried,
You don’t love me, you don’t care!

The atmosphere was icy,
To say the very least.
He seems to be a nice chap ,
But his girlfriend called him a beast.

Kirsty runs out of the door,
Goes off in the car..
Feeling panicky, feeling scared,
Oh god where is my bra?

She’d left it in his bedroom,
Now everyone would know.
What should she do? Should she return?
What about the show?

The show must go on folks,
You are professionals I say.
Don’t let your scandalous private life
Interfere with the play.

So Daniel’s at the cinema,
He couldn’t stand it any more.
The atmosphere was terrible,
But Karma is the law.

So I write my little verse,
Better keep it private this time.
I don’t think the others will want to know,
the moral of this rhyme.

Wayward Daughter

2006-02-04T16:28:00.000-08:00

Wayward Daughter

By Petra McGuire

Her Father has gone off to Wales,
to visit his son on his birthday.
He should be allowed a weekend off,
that’s what I heard everyone say.

But she makes it so difficult,
she can’t be trusted all alone.
You’d think she’d be more mature,
I mean she is almost grown.

A party she did have,
with alcohol and music loud,
smoking, drinking, living it up
with a real motley crowd.

Gatecrashers arrived as they always do,
the girl was pretty cross.
‘How dare these thugs try and get in my house?’
They didn’t give a toss.

At first her party was a right laugh,
thanks for going away pops,
It wasn’t long before she was in tears
and had to call the cops.

The burly policeman took down notes,
the shindig was truly mad.
Beer on the lawn and egg on the walls,
‘Oh please don’t tell my Dad!’

The next morning she was a sorry sight,
bleary eyed and cranky.
I think I’m getting a bit of a cold,
someone please pass me a hanky.

Her mother and her sister knew
and came over to the house.
What the hell were you doing last night?
‘I swear I was as quiet as a mouse.’

I can’t believe you’ve done this,
Your dad’s gonna hit the roof.
It wasn’t a party it was a gathering,
I promise I’ve got proof.

There were at least thirteen of you,
You’ve swigged back all that beer.
‘I know, I’ve got a headache,
I’ve come over all queer.’

Dad can’t trust you now you know.
You’ve nothing left to gain.
What’s gonna happen next time?
He’s shortly off to Spain.

I’m staying with a friend
I promise I’ll be better.
Do you think Dad will forgive me,
If I write another sorry letter?

The best thing you can do my girl,
Is have a serious think.
Sort out your life, clean up your act,
quit the bloody drink.

If you carry on like this,
when it comes to push and shove.
You are gonna alienate everyone,
especially those you love.

I’m really, really sorry,
I’ll make it up to father,
Is it ok if I go out now?
I really would rather.

But where is your front door key?
Don’t tell me that it’s lost.
How many keys is that now?
Do you realise how much they cost?

You can’t go out without it,
I’m sorry but I’m in shock.
You can’t just leave the house like this,
the front door you must lock!

Anyone could find out,
that the house is open and free.
Your Dad will get back from Wales
and find he’s got no TV.

What am I supposed to do?
I don’t wanna stay in this dump.
I need to be with all my mates
or else they’ll get the hump.

Shove something against the handle,
try to bar the door.
And clean that orange goo up,
It’s all over the floor.

Dad is back tomorrow,
What are you going to say?
Will you tell him what I’ve done?
And ask him not to go away?

Your Father needs to know,
all about the crime.
But perhaps he’ll see the funny side,
When he reads my little rhyme.

Chicken

2006-02-04T13:47:00.000-08:00

Chicken

Why did the chicken cross the road?
A thoughtful question indeed.
It is also the name of a delightful play,
Performed to every colour and creed.

Children line up to watch in glee,
The actors command their space.
The talented cast captivate the kids
who think the whole show is ace.

Tammy and Chris are cousins
and for Christmas all they want is a bike.
Characters played well by professionals
who project and don't need a mike.

Teaching those kids of safety
How to cross over the road.
Don't play chicken, stand up for yourself
and so I write this ode.

To my dearest boyfriend Daniel,
Who is an actor, he plays Dad.
He is far away in Stockton,
Good, he drives me bloody mad!

Not really, I don't mean it.
I'm happy he is doing what he loves.
It's no good smothering your boyfriend
Or treating him with kid gloves.

Daniel is an actor,
And at last he has a job.
Otherwise he would only mope
and tell me to shut my gob.

It's weird that he's not here,
Knowing he's so far away.
But he'll be back again on Friday,
When he's finished his play.

I think our relationship is equal,
I'm certainly not the boss.
And he'll be so much happier
In the play where the chicken does cross.

Singing pizza hut, pizza hut
And all manor of crazy things.
A smile to those children's faces
This entertaining performance brings.

Written by Mark Wheeler,
Performed by the Stopwatch Team.
That night of chickens and balloons
Will those children dream.

So if you get chance to see the play,
If there is anyway you can.
Take a look at the guy playing Gary and Dad
Coz that's my boyfriend Dan.

www.danielsaunders.net

Grease

2006-02-04T09:39:00.000-08:00

Off to Bournemouth to see the film,
the one I’ve been waiting for.
I’ve read the books, I know the lines,
grab a coat and head out the door.

There is a massive queue,
my mother isn’t pleased.
‘you are so old fashioned, you fuddy duddy’
my sister and I teased.

‘It’s absolute rubbish’ she moaned,
I don’t know why you think it’s so great.
She made me so bloody angry,
embarrassed me in front of my mate.

I managed to button my lip,
just to keep the peace.
This was the happiest day of my life,
finally I get to watch 'Grease!'