The woman with many faces
In the darkness and light of a daydream from a distant heaven. The woman with many faces but one soul. I have looked at legends and myths. She is a gift. To live many lives and still remember some of them is her curse.
I remember she woke my kaleidoscopic mind like in the song porcelain by Moby. A conversation between the two of us. Her timelines spread across mine. Her heart and soul a beacon for mine.
Giving me a reason for life and seeing beyond the illusion of separation. She has been living all the lives I see through the collective unconscious the Holy Spirit is a girl a woman a mother a sister a friend a lover and so much more. Life would be a mistake without her music. She speaks through the crowd words of wisdom that guide me.
I have been labelled schizophrenic but I can see her spirit in all things. The way the wind moves the trees leaves she is one who guides us all. Oneness is what I have found I am her protector I love her darkness her light some may say I have lost my mind. And all the unkind things but those people are blind.
Book of shadows
Magic can be drawn from
the spaces under your bed
where there are night and shadows
there’s magic instead
like the stars that burn
dark energy forms
we are the universe born
scribbled chaos in ink
sinking into depths of imagination
and sensations
magic that is a promise
yet to be made
An obsidian blade
that protects us from harm
cuts through curses and dark arms
unseen
we need the shadows as much as the stars
for contrast is what we are.
If you look beyond my skin
If you look beyond my skin
what would you see within?
My body overweight
I am no A class celebrity
ripped and shredded
I am no hot bod
to be bedded
I may have words of wisdom
I may write
you will never see my fight
to be heard
everyone has a story to tell
from angels in heaven to men in hell
I am who I am
I keep my truths hidden because I don’t want to burn bridges
I fidget with hands
make plans
but you will always judge me on aesthetics
and my superficial exterior
when I know my soul and interior
aren’t inferior.
Imp
In my wondering
pondering
desolation
I am an imp
an upstart crow
with a limp
a little bit more
than your average trickster
but a little bit less
than my average best
a sour tongue lemon zest
a speaker
drinking from a plastic beaker.
Memories and the hooks of the mind
The hooks of the mind
can be unkind
they get caught in the past
in happy go lucky memories cast
in fires of joy
or they get caught in the skin
of the unkind memories we keep deep within
sometimes I want to fish with those hooks
catch memories where I want to look
nostalgic daydreams
but the present is all we really have
when we realise that memories are trying for a land grab
the fish like memories we have stored
need a sea
but between you and me and I just want to be…
There’s a cat made of light on my window
There is a cat made of light
On my window
watch them sun glow
sometimes they wake me up in the morning
There’s sometimes a cat made of shadow
it hides from the rain
and my worrying mind’s brain
There is a cat made of stars
blinking and meowing
purring and scratching
latching onto the window with its claws
There is a white cat it’ll find me death
it’s name it’s Azrael
and when it’s on my shoulder
I will walk into the life beyond skin
and never get any older.
I believe in peaceful protest…
The fists in the street rise
in solidarity
just a symbol
but the beat down is quick and sick
blood spills down the street like cans of red paint
police on horses with their batons
create bruises and scar tissue patterns
are we scared to rise up against are so called masters?
or will it be a disaster
maybe our upper lips are too stiff
or the memes and distractions too much of a gift?
Spiralling costs
are we lost?
in profit driven madness companies gains
the stains of the poor are blood sweat and tears
is humanity only governed by their fears
Are we too afraid or too tough
to say enough is enough.
A different operating system
My iOS
is analytical
my circular thinking sometimes is an ellipses
my blacklight is the moon
I sometimes feel a sense of doom
pessimistic gloom
whether I am apple, android or Linux driving this computers machine
I laugh until I scream
My search bar is Firefox
not Google
It’s has an interesting internet history
why is a mystery!
special interests
religion
Science
and philosophy
A cacophony of voices
and anxiety about choices
My App Store has flaws
is yet to be developed
my operating system
has ghost code
I sometimes have to try to avoid goblin mode
I find social stuff hard
Autism spectrum disorder
It’s hard to understand
even with AI
I know I am wired differently
I just don’t know why?
I already said I loved you
I already said I loved you
I already read the words
I already looked for answers
in the sky your heart and the free flying birds
I already grasped for your hand
I already whispered to your soul
I already took the plunge
but fell short of my goal
I already spent days with you
I already kissed your cheek
I already have your voice in my head
I already am that mad every week
the loss of you spiralling and making me sad
the chances are we will never meet again
but I am glad we were once close
I already thought about it already is my ghost…