Mascara

Livor
through choice

I layer
to hide

The tears
opaque
I enjoy

and you wonder wheres the pain

Alive
Without cause
or reason

and I lick on

A martyr
behind the lies

Prettier in liquid
easier to obscure
fools views

This is me
omitting you

Dolly

She's sitting on black stair
With lonely
no curls in hair

She's pulling at dolly
Subverting the pain
her body broken

No more than a frame
Hiding in shadows
avoiding ice fingers and shame

A fragile head
made out of glass
filling with excuses
the reasons for red

Praying for a hero
someone to see past

She prays harder each night
with questions of why

Eyes shut tight

Dreaming of justice

Her hand twisting the knife

-

Lost in this corrosive sadness

Sandcastles in the rain

(an Alzheimer's expression - for Roy)

The sun shines brighter
than it ever did before
Second devours second
and it shines brighter
than it ever did before

Your heart pounds
Confusion at the sounds
You search for peace
Behind closed eyes
But second devours second
and you cant remember why

We must replace metaphor with meaning

You wonder in the dark
We are calling your name
Losing a little daily
You can't understand our tears
or fear or shame

Lights on
and off
and on again
Lock locks,
no reason in rhyme
Anger at blank pages
Rewriting each time
you finish a line

I reach, but its too late

We must replace metaphor with meaning

But I can find no other way to explain
This blanket over your soul
Years disappear
Like sandcastles in the rain

Its been awhile...

I haven't blogged in ages and I promised myself I would, being my mind is so busy, fleeting thoughts that could be much more I know I should write them down. I had a bit of a poetry run, I find it easier sometimes, it gets across my obsession or train of thought at the time!

I started college in Sept and its been a real ride, good and bad, I struggled at first so I dumped the Prozac, flat lining was a comfort 6 months ago, but it really stumped my thought process and although I know I'm a depressive, I feel its a part of the process and if you deny a part of yourself you can lose so much more. I'm learning new techniques and meeting really interesting people, inspiration is bubbling! I still feel kind of scared of myself as an artist though, for one: what if I'm shit, I'm a wannabe not a real artist and two: I'm a bit dark and I am unsure if I want others to see that side - amongst many other self deprecating questions.

Life drawing has been a real highlight, something I've always been so scared of, but I love it, we've been working in different mediums and styles.We do keep having the same model though, he is quit an interesting guy to draw and chat to, but I long for someone with a bit more shape, a female with lots of curves and bumps, like a Jenny Saville model - anyone know someone who fancies life modelling? send them to the college, they have to be CRB checked though.

I've been plagued by illness the last few weeks, first a sinus infection and then tonsillitis, I started my radio show again, but after two shows I've been too ill...grr, I'll get it up and running again soon, a case of doing too much again, its been tough keeping on top of work and college and life, the doc and psych keep telling me to do what makes me happy above the things that bring me down - shame they don't pay the bills!

I saw the Manic street preachers last week - freaking amazing! I know I've seen them countless times, but I think the last time was back in 2002 and they didn't really seem to be enjoying it so much, well they got their bravado back, the set was outstanding and I managed to get the set list to remind me! and to top it off I met Nicky Wire, I could've wet myself...but I didn't! Ive been a fan for like 18 years, but I've always been to scared to meet them and had to run off home as I've generally seen them on my own...loner!

and lastly - but not in order, Village green was fantabulouse! There is so much amazing talent in Essex, I took loads of pics, but I suck at uploading, I will soon! I should really get involved, maybe next year, I haven't been making jewellery, too much else on my plate, saying that there are people on my course with several kids who keep on top of it all and still get creative...makes me feel a bit lame!

oh yeah and I turned 30...too quick, way to quick

A wise old fox

I have watched the heavy walls encroach
The land that once was free
Now owned
Fenced and gated
Welcome, an outdated concept.

A refugee made of the wild
We must now hide
Pride fogged
Once graceful, cunning
Reduced to rubbish bag cowardice

'Survival of the fittest'
Over used by the weak
Strength only in guns
Starved jaws of our cousins
and media propaganda
Wiping hands from afar

I go running in the night
Echos reverberate
The dark so embracive
How I long for human accountability
Freeing the innocent from shame

Shame for living
In a land we once roamed
The Monarchy of OUR countryside
As mother earth intended
Before Man crowned themselves

My Cat

Velveteen black
Worn with pride
Sleek, graceful
Lion like stride

Snow tipped mountain paws
Cushiony love lorn
Set to fool
Hiding deathly claws

Eyes poetic sea green
Look deep
Treasures lure
Pearls like never seen before

Stretching nose to tail
Ostentatious yawn
All passing take care
Ear's twitching
Even sleeping he is aware

Despite the danger persona
Quite mews part lips
Whiskers tickle
And tongue catches tears
When needed

A sickie

I wander the winding streets and hills
The longest route
Every second of the estuary breeze
A moment to adore

Destination platform
What a bore
I peer over the wall
To see canines galloping
Mouths agape
Tongues flapping
Seagulls tread cautiously back
If you listen hard
Water trickles in to the newly vacated mud flats

My Train pulls in
The 8:08
I let it pass
Like a school girl ditchin' class
I check to see who's watching

Oh but that pebbled shore too much to ignore
Paled brown strangely reassuring
I find myself at the tides edge
Waves ebb in licking my feet
Another train another deadline, dead
Time now distant
In awe of the comfort this scene can give

The sound of laughter fills the salty air
A family of smiles sets out blankets
Ice cold flasks
Their little mongrel chasing seagulls
Off they fly and caw in knowing the silence wouldn't last

The sun grows hotter
Deep breaths circling the pleasure
in the banality
Why would anyone want more than this?

I reluctantly rise
Knowing I am less surrounded in dreams
more... responsibility
But the little mongrel licks my hand
And it is confirmed
Today, this is the place I should be

Bipolar

I don't do minimal
In anyway
In anything

Don't try and trick me with subliminal
I am all or nothing
Nothing and everything

When you need to bleed
There's no point in faking it
I lay out my heart
They don't know how to take it

So they attempt to sedate me
I know what their doing
drip feeding me lies
'It will be alright'

Take another pill
Give up the fight
Dumb down the hate in me
But without hate there is no love

I stand by the truth
Those with no love
Come with no reason or rhyme
For those with no love
I ain't got the time

False hope

My shoulders are weak
I admit it
pride defeated
collapsed and broken in the heat

He said it was OK
wiped my brow
covered my pain with a blanket
Carry on without the worry
free of anxiety

Never has the weight been lifted before
The feeling an anomaly I could learn to adore
29 years ready to give in
But he said carry on
And I believed he'd be there to hold me up

What a fool
The crutch was made of wood
It splinters in spite
Tares up the hope
Like God did before
It will leave you when bored

To Mother

I close my eyes

Clinging to the memories

The warm scent lingers

The inviting glow draws me in.

Musky tobacco

Heady floral hues

Tangled like the smoke from your joint

I'd nestle under your rising arm

Seeking security, confirmation.

Breathing in happiness

I was in awe of you

You were forgetful

Pretty

Fun

Smiles and laughter.

We spent weekends in the dark

The electric meter whirring out of credit as the shops closed

Lights replaced with candles

Camped by the gas fire

Singing The Beatles on your battered acoustic guitar.

The cupboards were normally empty

Powdered milk

Stale crackers

And those little silver cake decorating balls

We shopped for fun

Dancing down the isles

Food an afterthought.

You let us sit up all night

We watched the moon

Took the dog for midnight walks

And planned our lives as 'miwlonaires'

Put the world to rights

With ditty’s and rhyme.

If only I could freeze time

Just there forever

But you let life suck you in

And away from me

Old enough to go it alone

You found other projects to defend

But they only knew how to take.

So I sat up late

Waiting for the door to click

To know you were safe

For your cigarette smoke to wind up the stairs

And ease me into a slumber

The sound of the kettle rising to its boil.

It only got later and later

Your eyes grew wider

Wider

I'd take your glasses off

So as not to hurt your face

As you slid into your pillow.

I'd creep downstairs

Lock the doors

Put your shoes safely away

Cover you over on my journey back to bed

Turn out your light

Careful to not disturb.

I'd think over all the good times

And eventually join you in sleep

Only to be woken a few hours later

You'd dance down the hallway

Turn the stereo up

Unaware of my nightly ritual

Why I was so grumpy in the morning

But it wouldn't last for long

I just can't stay angry at you.

Many years have passed

I tried to run away

As much as I love you

You are also my downfall

No matter how far I am

The cycle continues,

Drawing me in with your infectious laugh

And quirky habits.

While others walk all over you

I am walking behind you

Ready to catch

As fools fail to see greatness

I just wished you’d notice

The walls

The closer they call
The more imperfections reveal
Spider line cracks creep
Parting trust over time
Mildew spotting virgin white

Unearthly cold
No comparison to the room
Envelopes like an old friend
When blood is raging

Clammy skin clings for life
Never to leave
This man made safety
A fort created
To house our secret selves

Publicly unforgivable
Privately inexplicable

The naphthalene days are over

Her bones become the earth
Heady, musky aroma
Pulling memory strings

The naphthalene days
Fighting off the little enemies
That we now embrace
Golden fragile wings
Give reason to our plight

Our hearts grow melancholy
Winding trees envelope the truth
I'd give my heart to them
If only they could provide the proof

Is there light beyond the dark
Eternal morning bliss
Sipping from saucered cup
Scrambled eggs
The little things more than blessed

Free to again feel pleasure
Released from the pain
Barefoot caress
Eyes like new born open
And the power to regain

Her bones become the earth
Nurture woodland floor
Tears and prayers to nourish
Let her spirit walk once more

Maps

I scored my life
Maps on each arm
Every line
a history of wrongs
Roads of un-trust
And paths of love lost

One ply transparency
All now that separates
Words support the rafters
But words are cheap
And forgettable

Reaching for answers
Imposing, pointed questions
Threaten to break through
Find their way
to years of hidden truths

Shame tries to close the book
But the ink is still wet
And if a diary was left open
do you have the right to read it?

Polythene

I like that look of suffocation
I might keep it
Until i am beauty layer of polythene
Emaciated
Wipe clean
User friendly prom queen

A vision of wants
And never will be
All that's good
A product of air tight
Fake - that's you and me
But what of it?
We equal pretty

Wrap my head
Paint myself clean
I'm heading mainstream
Wrapped in shiny tight polythene
A vision of wants
And never will be

This long gone Grandma

Vibrant blinding hues
illuminating memories
blazing pride

Sounds ring out
the rag and bone mens cry
unheard over time
meerly consequential
never regretable
never forgetable

The perennial flower cycle
more faith and truth
in each decaying drop
March on
rise again from each fall

Tides wash in new days
Strength and forgivness
the soft foam lapping toes
all their weathers witnessed

All until stagnent, still
stolen steps
stolen breaths
this to be the last tune hummed

No more petals watch
seasons into one
before sadness settles in
histories muck and mire

Waltz into the night
this beauty song sung
the story kept unravelled
the light carried on

Smoke and mirrors

I remember clearly my first experience in the dark and hopeless tunnels of the Waterloo subways, I was no more than 10. I had gone with a friend and her parent's, I forget what for but to get where ever it was we were going we had to pass under this well known homeless hangout. Except for me it wasn't well known, I was quite well educated in the ways of the world, regularly having waifs and strays in and out of mums I was under no illusion life was perfect, but wandering on the suspended pathways lit by a dank orange glow, followed by the glazed black eyes of London's forgotten people a stark grey cold shivered it's way to my very soul. I saw then in those few short minutes how cruel the world is. I swore then as long as I could give to others I would.



Throughout my life I have found myself there on many more occasions, I am not scared as some people and I would not avoid walking through here as the sickness that rises in my belly reminds me to never give up not in a selfish sense I mean on everything, for those that can not be heard, despite the eerie linger of dread in the tunnels there is hope, don't be pushed underground. It's all quite poetic.


It seems now that that poetic air has made it on to the walls, it really stops you in your tracks. Amidst all the chaos above and the sadness below there now interrupts beautiful words from others experiences and dreams. At first I am drawn in, awe at the configuration, ponder the sentiment and marvel at the joy on the peeling paint cracked and pissed stained tiles.

Unfortunately it's a short felt contentment as I then stumble on some laid out cardboard boxes, clearly someones bed and I crash back to reality. It's wonderful to decorate our world with art, but when there are thousands of people sleeping on the streets every night can we really spare the money? Even if the cost of the paint, the labour and the stencils only came to the price of one meal (which I very much doubt!) wouldn't that money be better spent. We call ourselves a developed country, but we lack humanity in so many ways.

It's been 18 years since I first walked through these subways and nothing in the harsh reality of things has changed, such a powerfull country and in 18 years the thousands of people that live rough just keeps growing and all our goverment can manage is to try and blind the public with some pretty words. It seems to work for too many.

The female Eunich....

It was Wednesday pm, I just got home from work and I was greeted by an unsavoury smell floating down the hall way, was it feline Frank's afternoon litter gift, was it Dave, having been off ill festering in his own juices...I followed my nose, it lead me to the fridge. Now what had gone off, Ive been known to lose a few things to the fridge demon, I'm not good at clearing out so the odd carrot, courgette, broccoli and the occasional lettuce gets pushed to the back, led astray by the jars of pickles parading their anti mould pickling juices the veg first grows an interesting layer of fur which makes all the other veg jealous, but quickly the fur melts to slime and infects it's neighbour, before you know there's a mould pandemic...or conceptual art as I'd rather (a representation of the fragility of life!). Anyway I rifled cautiously taking short breaths in preparation for the discovery of a fridge monster, but to no avail, that's when I realised it wasn't cold...balls!

I filled up an ice tray and placed it in the freezer with the temperature at it's lowest, 24 hours later, no ice, yep the fridge freezer had died and no we didn't get the extended warranty, theirs always something better to spend your money on at the time, but you always regret it later (not that I'll be admitting that to the in laws any time soon!)

So Saturday was for fridge/freezer shopping, I'll save you the boring details of appliance shopping, the real shock of this tale of events was Dave's glee full smile at getting the fridge home and placed in it's Little hole, he turned to me and said 'aren't you excited'......speechless, EXCITED? seriously it's a domestic appliance, I started to question how people perceived me, most of all Dave, the man I've lived with for approximately 7 years!! I don't believe in gender roles, I think marriage is a farce, I stand for equality, woman's rights and self discovery, I have fridge monsters....!?! Have I become a stereotypical female, goodness I do like cooking, I'd like a country kitchen, I luv buying make up, don't start me on clothes and shoes would be an interest if my feet weren't so big!

What happened? For years I wouldn't wear a skirt in protest of it's impracticable nature for climbing trees (you never know) and that men feel the need to wolf whistle at the first sight of flesh, I refused to be an object, I stopped shaving for awhile, I'm fair no one even noticed I didn't wear make up because I didn't want to be attractive I wanted people to get to know me and not make a judgement on my painted face and I eat what I wanted...but in all honestly this was a pretty miserable time. It was a counter reaction to my previous self, layers of Gothic makeup, hours spent with my head over the toilet throwing up from guilt of eating a meal that might bulge my skinny belly, the problem was; neither was a balance.

So now days I guess I do fit the stereotype from time to time, but is that such a bad thing knowing that now I do it for myself, so yeah I am a little excited to get a new fridge, but not so I can prepare food for my man and live in a domestic bliss bubble, but because I enjoy food and it's black, (the inner goth never dies!) Just don't get me confused, all those girly things I enjoy these days are because I feel better for doing them, not because how others may perceive me for the fact of them, but because I enjoy the little pleasures of having smooth legs, wearing my hair curly or straight and the glamour of a little flick of eyeliner can bring. I am a hippy feminist at heart and if someone cares about me enough they will know that......as Dave explained after I bit his head off!!

ello'

So, after spending an evening with Hayley I'm convinced it's about time I started a blog.

I can't be held responsible for what I write about, it may be memories, current events, random thoughts, poems.

I'm quite busy with things right now, I am preparing to hold a handmade Jewellery stall at Southend Fringe in June and I am being trained in the world of Internet radio, (hearing yourself back is a strange thing, I never knew I was so Essex!) I also became the Chairperson this year for Southend Animal Aid and I am endeavoring to learn Piano, as well as exploring my artistic side and trying to get my bum back out there to do some live reading of my poetry. I should be working right now, my lunch finished some time ago, so I'll come back when I have something more interesting to say......