A Disfigured Soul


 

 

A Disfigured Soul

Something inside me broke. Perhaps because I have so much internal conflict and when I’m with Stephen I can take off the mask. But then again I’m broken. I’m a Nightmare the gods

For several weeks something within me has been breaking, collapsing, pieces falling apart. Rolling across the earth. Some swallowed up. Whatever Control I thought I had is long gone. Tiredness and exhaustion have stolen my immortal soul. When you’re lost you no longer know who you are.

As I try to erase and blot out the voices of those telling me who I should be and how to get there. But I know to ask why. Don’t Put Your Chains on me for I’ve Made My Bed in the Land of Other.

Because I don’t want to join your journey………… For I’m Only a Few Steps Away from Grace….

 

For Mable Palmer who did not survivor cancer but lives on in our collective memories.

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Gaia Reclaiming Her Land


 

Land formerly wood, concrete and metal of long forgotten torn down buildings must give way to Queen Gaia as she Reclaims Land abandoned whilst She Festooning it with wild Beauty.

No. Not weeds to Her. But cordial Flora, Plants, bushes, sapling trees, flowers finding a home plus phenomenal growth where no man can pass allowing birds and small animals sanctuary during spring into summer.

Dancing happily flowing with gentle breezes. Tonight the woodland Nymphs shall dance with abandon around and through dusky moss green covers.

All Photos taken along Fulton Street in Brooklyn, NY.

 

Bertie Died……………2014


 

I must have ran 40 blocks after I got the news. And that damned parrot would not shut up! Aunt Beatrice came and got him while me flying down the streets with no coat, hat, gloves or even a scarf on a cold freezing pre-Christmas day.  Down Fulton Street. Decomposition. A Rotted Christmas Gift. Which Morgue? I’m assigned to find you.

To this day I still hate Christmas and always will.

Fulton’s Folly redux.

Oblivious to cars, speeding past rickety boarded up storefront churches, racing around and through stagnant pedestrians.  Cars honking. Screeching to an unexpected halt as fleet form weaves speed through traffic Loom gossamer spider webs.  If I run fast enough to the morgue maybe I’ll still have a chance to remind his body to arise for the Tree Lightening Ceremony.

The Forest. I’ll run into the woods. There I found the magnificent corpse of a Unicorn. Majestic but I didn’t know what to do with it. Wasps had made a home inside the stomach cavity. Carrying life from death. I could smell syrup and honey mixed with Holiday Candy Canes. My dreams, goals and plans for the future. Disemboweled.

The Way of Wings is to fly. Where Sweet Harbor lies.

She Triumphant Playing Parlor Games exuded Vibrato from wild god’s Olde Apothecary Shoppe.  When a Heroine falls. She dies alone. Forgotten and lost to the ages.  She had only a passing acquaintance with sanity.

Each Day Jesus Cries for those condemned to the altars of bloody sacrifice.

Simon says. You learn quickly to do what Simon says or you’re out of the game. For Simon is Jigsaw.

This world done. Ready to implode.

 

This Old Soldier will fade away……

Disconnect………..Disengage………Disappear……..Retreat…….Off Grid……..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The One


 

I’m Not the One Who Broke Your Heart

I’m Not That Girl Who Took Your Soul

I’m Not that Female Who Broke You Down Crashed into Pieces on the cold linoleum floor

Not that Girl Who Left You stock shelves on threadbare spiderwebs cascading into a fall.

Not the Her who hung your dirty laundry out for all to see Who Bled Your Veins dry and drank your arteries into desert sands

 

I am the One You’ve Been waiting for

She Who feeds you.

Come pour your soul into my vessel. Let me bind your wounded heart.

Up until now you’ve been dealing with small-minded females.

It’s time to partner with a real woman.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kick the Ballistics with Missy Elliott

Missy Elliott – Get Ur Freak On [OFFICIAL VIDEO]

Missy Elliott – Work It (Official Video)

 

Creatures of (Dizzy) Comforts


 

I am Liquid Stranger. Pour me down your gullet and drink. Sonic blooms decorate never desecrate. Welcome to the Hotel California where guests check in but they never check out.

What are you? A human Jukebox? Why must every crime scene trigger a song for you?

Creatures of DizComfort. Radio Check.

She left off the beauty of decomposing remains.

The Rising Sun
Psycho Barn House

Jules left her back door open all the time. Rain storms, Torrential rain. Cyclonic winds. All in the name of our local Rev. Pastor Rod Golden    who gave daily as well as nightly highly personalized counseling sessions. More like Golden Rod as his ratings and popularity with the recent widows and divorcees bordered on scandalous.

There was a gash in her head. Stab wounds all over her torso. She was a bloody bashed in mess. Salted molten lava gush from her……….. Looks like she was bayoneted 1000 times.

She was the niche that somebody carved out like a holy day gourd.

There is much beauty in empty overgrown abandoned lots as in the well kept garden with front and backyards.  Mother Nature reclaims her own. Including the hidden bodies.  More gifts to be discovered on Christmas day.

 

This one’s D.O.A.  I’m hungry. Let’s go get a sandwich or a burger. Make mine rare.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Full Metal Sneakers


 

 

Veiled. Screaming to be released from the afterbirth

The Caul. My prison.

Cursed by circumstance. Crushed under situation.

Abstract speed reverse back flip imps.

Beaten by barbed wire. Ripping out chunks of flesh. Battlefield: Code Red.

Burlap sack repentance.

Life is the quality of lies we live by.

A Quark of timing and fate.

So said the Hurricane to the Tornado.

LOve,

Pixy Dust

 

Banquet

Aftermath


 

Yves Tanguy

 

Are we getting rid of family items as well.  So the family is not involved. She had no immediate family and the few cousins disowned and abandoned her years ago. Did what was expected of her only to be shunned. Minus the body at least the apartment is neat and clean. Like she knew she was gonna die. Heart burst. Plus a cerebral hemorrhage. Literally died of a broken heart. Her soul died years ago just waiting for her body to follow.

After being married several years the husband suggested she should go on holiday to her birth country. About two months into her vacation her in-laws called saying maybe she should not return. Alarmed she took the next flight out homeward bound only to arrive at the house and find that her adoring husband had rented it out to a swingers club. She no longer had a home.

Never got to go to the Ashram, the Retreat, Spa or Warm Springs……….Forgotten.  Fear. Frustration. Failure. Flaws. 

asylum, cover, covert, harbor, haven, protection, refuge, sanctuary, shelter ~~ None.

For her no celebrations. No honors. No medals. No rewards. No accolades. Only a pine box. nameless. In Potters Field.

God. She must have been laying there at least two weeks. Found dead on Christmas day. Nobody ever bother to call or knock on the door. Smell alerted her neighbors. Decomposed blob. Nice Holiday gift for the Coroners office. Off to the city morgue with what’s left of this one.

Forty years ago families looked after each other. They cared about each other. Now you throw your family member into a hospital, hospice or nursing home and forget about them. Not your responsibility. After all you have your life to live. Why bother with the elderly, disabled or poor.  Nobody wants the broken and damaged. Broken toys belong in the dumpster. They mean nothing.  Crime clean will wash away the trauma.

Vanish into the mists of time.

Just remember that the cheapest coffins are hidden behind the ficus.

He left a book behind for his family. A how to book. You know Death hacks. Then he blew his brains out. Brain matter on the floor, walls and ceiling. Part of his face was found on the drapes. Kid found him. Beside him a child actor photograph of himself that a fan wanted autographed. Show ends. Reason for being ends. Purpose ends.

Six months later the wife hanged herself. Poor kid. In six months lost both parents. Only left a suicide manual. Suicide hacks.

Welcome to the Land of the Fucked.

That’s a wrap. Time to bounce. Yandy, I’m hungry. Whatta ya say we stop for a burger and fries move onto the next poor slob.

 https://youtu.be/x7BeGDZewHshttps://youtu.be/RFSWW4O6QNM