They will bow to your beauty
But they will miss your brilliance
They will worship your curves
But they will curse others
to see only that which they say is skin deep.
You will weep for your wisdom
The fire in your heart
In your veins
It pains me to see you hidden or vilified
Within his story
You are doomed to be perceived as second fiddle
But you gave birth to this universe and you are the riddle
Sophia wisdom is knowledge and power
it is sour milk to men
and when they drink it they cry
For women make this universe
and men who hurt you die
But you hold my cards
and power
and the watcher I have become sits and waits
Watching you hour by hour
Love and wisdom flow
from streams which flow underground
But women who are powerful
Must know that they can change the flow
and sound out
for what is more powerful than a mothers love?
Dear Diary (warning contains themes of depression and self harm)
Written in creative writing class.
Dear Diary
It’s 3 am and I still can’t sleep,
When I think of the bullies at school I weep.
In creeps the hunger to cut and purge again,
The cut of the knife hurts me, though it focuses the brain.
Droplets of blood drip onto the floor
Dull and red, one blood stain more.
In my heart loneliness slowly kills
Making me feel isolated and numbing my will.
My parents are caught in their own private war,
Unaware of what’s happening behind my bedroom door.
My parents are furious at my falling marks at school,
However they haven’t noticed the cuts on my arms at all.
I am left in this house which feels unsafe and unlike a home.
I panic when I am left to my own devices all alone.
My breaths come fast, uneven and I feel sick,
Sometimes I can’t breathe at all, my heart races too quick.
When I was at primary school I had good friends.
These days I feel let down, they’ve turned out to be dead ends.
It’s a shame they all left me and shot through,
now bullies flock around like vultures picking at all I say and do.
Last Tuesday I bunked school and spent it walking around town
people stared at me, making me feel even more down.
I was feeling as if no one understood
So I went to a river near a wood.
I made for my house when it was time to go home,
but the school had already contacted my Mum by phone
My furious Dad threatened me with grounding.
I said “I don’t care! I like my own surroundings!”
The truth is I don’t want to feel anything anymore,
So I pick up the knife to cut myself some more…
Let’s take you on a tour of the internet
Internet
Let’s take you on a grand googling tour
Into the life of smart phones, computers and more
The web of information, systems and regulations
Starting with google
Let’s type in what we want, to get our hits
Websites appear the top of which are sponsored
Can you believe all the ads?
and yet it demands our attention
Even from our Mums and Dads
News feeds painting a picture of panic
and propaganda
slandering many but keeping our PM
On top by not playing a protest song
Cause it might offend and cause the elite to stop
Their war on the poor and disabled
Even google don’t pay their taxes owed
Digital money bit coin bestowed
The webs currency is content and infrastructure
Let’s worship in the chapel
Of Microchips, Microsoft and apple
Pray to the gods of google
For more celebrity gossip
While the arts is a poor man’s friend.
Utopia
Open the door to your heart
A world without war
A new start
Where love and oneness are accepted more
Turn the page on your rage
Free us from the cage
Of the minds programming
Which is a failed system
Snatch utopia from the ashes
Of heart shaped gashes
Cuts that bleed
Feed love instead
Grow peace in your head
and like a Phoenix fly
From death
Take that one new breath
and think like you’ve had an epiphany
A realisation reborn into rebirth
Utopia on this earth.
On the foundation of words
On the foundation of words
We build undeterred
Some need excavation
To gain an explanation
To see their true meaning
Or are we dreaming?
Some words tell fables
Some words are negative labels
We are building on these words
It’s a bit absurd
For what do they really mean?
When one person describes so differently to another
We can build and break people with the words we choose
Give a voice to the voiceless or abuse
A turn of phrase and rhetorical question
Just a suggestion
Be careful which ones you use…
Out pouring
Tears well up in my eyes
I dream of being a bird to fly away
To transform with angels wings
But I have no song to sing
The voice, your voice
Weighs me down
Every day wearing a painful frown
The tears of a clown
Is how my father felt
I knelt and prayed
For it all to go away
But in the cold light of day
Cold reality is that I don’t know
whether any of this is real
Delusions, confusions
Flowing, constant uncertainty
Knowing what you would say
You always say I hate you so much
Pessimism has always been my crutch
I loved you like a songwriter loves his piano
The answer is you don’t give a damn though
You were my muse and I have lost all but your voice
Which torments me in every choice I make
Mighty oaks break, their branches tear and shatter
Do I really matter or are my words just noise that clatter
I thought I once met Jesus on my 16th birthday it was my wish
Can I fish my own soul out of sea
Still I yearn for you girl with many faces
Many expressions but I have spoken to you and you have words so few
I cannot escape all the torment you have put me through
and yet I would move my aching soul and bones
Just to sit and talk to you on your throne.
Alienpoetry mixology
Borrowed earth
In the dark discarded night
When you wish you still had all your fight
You rest on a tear stained pillow
Outside your house the weeping willow
Kisses the river bed
Shedding it leaves
To those who still believe
In the magic of Mother Nature
We are caught in the rapture
Of our own dreams
Which filled our lives with polluted streams
We are jet black and hollow without nature
We are filled with jet black sorrow for our children’s children
Who cry for the earth which was borrowed and lent
and never meant to be spoiled
By our digital dreams.
The cycle
This cell becomes division
an idea a split a incision
a night and a day
Black and white
But in this division
We can see, we can envision
Identity pouring forth
The tiny flame
Of a name…
This tree becomes a seed
It moves it bleeds and breaks
a part of itself to move forward
and yet it is not how it started out
however it doesn’t lose it self to doubt
We branch out wards like this family tree
This fire becomes a spark
It lights another flame
Who could tell it from the fire
and yet it has its own desires
The human becomes a egg
Hatching catching its mothers eyes
One day it will be fully grown
Will it still feel the sting of being alone?
This ocean becomes a drop
A drop that drips from a leaf
A raindrop that settles on the ground
In the cycle of Gaia
Repeating on and on
We are not separate
We move on and on..
