Crippling Entitlement

Today he thought he’d hold her hand 

but there was a crash as the 

stand

fell and the man rolled

broken but not

old

his body was 

 cold.

Wet air in but not enough out 

he retained it all 

yet couldn't

recall

the name of his son.

One by one

the levels dropped short 

as his heart

fought 

and his family grew 

fraught 

while @LozzaFox

caught 

a ball with a friend and said 

"I am a fierce liberal and I am wrong."

Let me be

  Let me be little.

Allow me to wander unattended in a field of green and 

make daisy chains.

 Let me be little.

Allow me to swim unfettered in a whirl of blue and

splash the fish.

 Let me be little.

Allow me to fly unhindered on a swing of red and

kick the sky.

 Let me be little.

Allow me to run unchained down a road of hope and

not look back.

 Let me be little.

Allow me to sleep and not weep in my bed,

where I wish I was dead.

 Let me be little.

2021

When all around is noise and sound I can abide.

When death abounds and fear is found I can speak life.

In whatever moment, day or year I find myself I want this to be my choice, and my story.  

“We look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

This isn’t a burying of one’s head in the sand, a pretence that pain isn’t real and that suffering isn’t grievous. This acknowledges that awful truth and yet still calls us to a quiet within, to a joy that transcends. To a hidden sanctuary of peace and hope that remains undaunted in a world that would try to snatch it at any moment. 

Let this be my unwavering posture in the year to come, whatever it may look like.

 

Tentatively.

 I 

My head is leaning into hope

Despite the turning of the seasons

Yes, even the unknown that awaits.

I will posture myself to see joy 

To hasten it, unsurprised toward me.

II

In the wild all around there is still yet 

A quiet resting space

Where His spirit dwells.

III

I find you in the absence of my fears and 

In the presence of them also.

In the midst of it all you are here

    Unceasingly alive.

Life As We Now Know It.

When everyone stopped.

Two hundred thousand hearts 

 ceased 

to 

beat

I thought of those moments then

  the   

 s     p    a     c     e     s 

   

between seconds 

The silence that was filled with intolerable craft and inane art and the unshakeable dark 

I wondered how it was that we could all feel so nakedly human

Together floating on the same sea

Whether toward an abyss or an island

Our uncertainty wove a thread that bound my body to yours

I tasted your hope then and tried to make it my food also

But my mouth was full of the despair of 

the unsaid goodbye 

the unheard cry

the unfilled aisle

the unfed child 

the unpaid man 

and

the unwashed hand

When everyone stopped.

After panic buying and 

so much crying and 

fear about dying 

they finally fell into the

 ideals of isolation

whilst

 I 

 slowly 

 broke 

under

the 

 weight 

of 

 the 

 new 

 earth 

and

 her 

  unspeakable

 pain

The Only Thing You Said That Makes Sense

Classical FM not fun then, no but you need to learn and those beats are no good, instead of them you should play Moonlight Sonata, you’ll thank me after. See these are the sounds that make lost men found and though I’m all at sea it’s here when I’m free to be truly me.

I don’t know that man now, but in that at least, I think he was right.

This House of Mine.

I have hated you for so long, extended more favour to my father than I have my forehead. Trampled on my thighs as they tread down upon the earth, muddying my appearance with the dirt beneath them. Sullying my soul and my softness with sounds of sorrow after sorrow. 

I have found ways of heaping loathing upon every inch of my skin until it has entombed me. I have grown familiar with the frailty of my face. Held together by mascara and lipstick rather than muscle and sinew. 

I am alone on a mountain, trapped by the pain of my worthlessness, held there by the searing displeasure of what my eyes see.

I am startled into hurtling down that rock by the reminder of the reason for it all, the crushing knowledge of my insignificance and my worthiness all at once.

I deserve to be seen I cry, shouting it at no-one, everyone; my own lungs almost betraying me as I scream it. (They are so conditioned to believe they are useless that this action has surprised them.)

I forgive you body, I set you free from all the ways you have caused me pain and made me despise my demeanour more than I notice my nobility. True release lies in leaving it all, 

letting 

it

go.

Loving in the space instead and seeing myself in the eyes of my creator, the one who fully knows and who does not make mistake. 

It is time, I say. This is the moment to walk into your future.

LJK The Rarest of Flowers

She was the sun, rain and blossom all at once, and so it was, that when she bloomed with abundance even the shadows of her shape were safe.

The solemnity in her roots did not diminish her beauty but instead caused it to roar most magnificently.

The wind blew her petals and her shame was held in her undecorated frame. 

What she did not see was the air, 

carrying her seeds to lands that needed the wildness of her love to grow undisturbed in their gardens of weeds.

She had noticed it all, the horror and the terror, the lovely and the light. She stood undaunted, fiercely alive.

Finally she did not fear. She was cut from the ground but not forgotten. Instead she was folded into the four where she would fully flourish.

W

RICHARD/ WILEY/ ESKI SOUND

BOW/ KENT/ BOW/ LOST AND FOUND

HATE SCHOOL/ NO SCHOOL/ CRACK INSTEAD

USING/ DEALING/ ALMOST DEAD

DRUMMING/ RAPPING/ CREATING GRIME

THE KING/ GODFATHER/ AHEAD OF TIME

YOUNG BOY/ SCARED BOY/ STILL ONE NOW

HUSBAND/ DAD/ PLEASE DON'T DROWN

BROKEN/ BLEEDING/ YOU CAN'T SEE

BEST MALE/ MOBOS/ MBE

EEDIYAT/ SKENGMAN/ IT'S ALL MINE SHUT UP

FRONT PAGE/ BACK PAGE/  STORM IN A TEACUP


THANKS FOR THE TRIP TO CYPRUS SON
I'M HERE IF YOU NEED ME LOVE FROM MUM

Offline

Some reach and find a hand
Others stretch and their fingers
Grasp onto only empty space
That lingers on and on
Easier then to feel the cold reassurance of your phone on your skin
A connection at least
We are told
There is a sacredness in the scenes that are unseen
The loneliness is not lost in a like
It is found in the absence in our hearts
And the way we feed ourselves crumbs from 
Other people's tables.

June the 18th: Inexplicably both International Panic and Picnic Day

Don't panic have a picnic
Don't lose your shit
There's cheese and pineapple sticks
Why have food in a bowl
When you can eat a sausage roll
Vegan or not both are hot and will certainly stop you throwing a strop
M&S or Waitrose I'm not fussy
Cheese and ham or chicken with stuffing
There's no time to hate or berate or pre-meditate if you think about what you just ate
Have a glass of Pims
To wash away your sins
Eat baguette after baguette after baguette without regret
And certainly don't fret
Unless you're late

For a picnic

Serpent Refugee by the Ignorant

Useless, viper, thief, social housing
You're no good if you can't get a round in
Choose love, hate love, they don't know love
You haven't got worth if you haven't got stuff
Stupid, crazy, can't get a job
Doctor, teacher, just give up
Snake, robber, lost at sea
Let me help you be just like me
Helpless, homeless, poisoned skin
I'm glad you mostly sink don't swim.












A distorted view, held by too many.

A Meaningful Return

〰️The absence of his love was where her fear was made, but the presence of their hope was where her fear was freed.〰️

〰️ What had long been held in those stony streets was finally released in the innocence of their ignorance.〰️

〰️ I thought my pieces were lost, scattered in stone and sand. I travelled back to find them, but instead saw them there in my hand.〰️

〰️She hoped she would see how different she was, but instead she found her own words woven in those walls, dancing mockingly with his.〰️

〰️ Seeing you unchanged while I was so very altered. Not mountains, rivers or castles then, but the human heart that falters.〰️

Go Well

She forgave him and it liberated her,

Praying that somehow, on the winds

His spirit would know it was well with hers

And his sighs of sorrow

Would become breaths of peace

Until his body no longer required them.

Warring fingers.

How do I give his soul wings

And be his breath to fly

When the hands that built 

The bow

Also made the arrow.

Some of Her Stories.

She had walked too many miles

before she realised 

no amount

of steps

would ever make him

love her.

Are you happy here?

No,  I can still hear them.

He might have perceived their 

noise

but he could never 

have discerned 

the sounds

of

their spirits

breaking 

slowly,

from within those 

office walls.

How do these numbers piece together?

What do these letters mean?

The only answer I know is love me,

her heart silently replied.

You.

The way your fragile body folded itself into mine was both a comfort and a knife.

The greyness of my heart and the dense deep descending over me was established in the overwhelming grayness of my existence.

You gave me hope and life and then you slowly took away every last thing one painful moment at a time.

We found each other, in the presence of clarity when I bled and realised, you were bleeding too.

Drowning in Dissonance.

To create is to live, to liberate. To not do so is the end. It is apathy, unfeeling bones encased in tomb like skin, my pulse no longer palpable.

SHE.

She was lit from within when she laughed.

But when she stopped the sorrow

in her gaze was enough to sink me.

Whisper to it.

Your pain is real,

But hope is breathing also.

Give it life, then wait for it to 

Fly.