I don’t write what I think, I write what I feel.
When the magic sets in sometimes it comes out too real.
The laughter and tears, the strife, pain and heartache. Sorrow finds words, lines and stanzas to bake.
Bake in my mind when the recipe is done. That’s when I realise how the feelings have worded, simmered, tenderised and become.
Sometimes these feelings are too powerful to write. They can give me relief and they can give me a fright.
I see what I’ve written now the feeling has gone and I know that what’s written may give something to someone.
So I’ll write what I feel and I’ll try not to think. Because feeling are real and the mind can play weird, yet wonderful tricks.
Feelings have the power to cleanse our minds and our souls. Feelings are with us whether young or old bones. Feelings are there twenty four hours a day. Feelings control us in so many different ways.
Categories:
tenderised, anxiety, fear, feelings, hate,
Form: Free verse
I am tired of your callous game,
You still toy with my sensitive side.
Too bad, my foolish heart is to blame,
Wish I loved with my cold-blooded mind.
You still toy with my sensitive side -
Cruelly crumpling, stealing what’s left.
Wish I loved with my cold-blooded mind -
You’d be sued for emotional theft.
Cruelly crumpling, stealing what’s left,
Now I know we were doomed from the start.
You’d be sued for emotional theft,
If not for my torn tenderised heart.
Now I know we were doomed from the start,
As you neither care nor set me free.
If not for my torn tenderised heart,
You would never be my cup of tea.
I care no more and set myself free,
Too bad, my foolish heart is to blame,
You are neither my cup nor my tea,
I am tired of you callous game.
April 1, 2022
Categories:
tenderised, heart, humorous,
Form: Pantoum
Cleopatra my queen
Very old,cornerstone is me, oh um. Beef me i kill
Will it wasn’t be narcist be yet i crossed me my own childless womb
Be largactyl. Be throat roar i shunt me a naked penile
Weep it blunder i shalt be I naked me a bath beit lambtales
Beyet I kill me oh um marcus anthony
Be my dead daggerless Quatro is the me oh do loath it ye
Tender it killed my tart be yet guile he man a gloat
Be laughed it sodium,weep it is tenderised shant e’ mean dick thing is cut my lice
Wept me yet i shalt be laughed Julius Caesar. Do mine is counterfeit bodyless me lust she naptelli
Breaker odd he yet die my own adder it can me be desirous guard
Killer me platter my headless roiba peniled be vast me asp me, alone be he beastlllie me ownerous asp like placade
bastard baste me I jel it in irony. be thy impervious sumakutra hail it defiles my utter deciet
Categories:
tenderised, abortion, abuse, addiction, adventure,
Form: Abecedarian
Like popcorn firing in my brain
A lie was born - I can't explain
My tongue spun out a syrup web
A viscous tide that did not ebb
Sugar sweet and tenderised
From between my teeth, emerged my lies
My lips complied, and did not fail
To add some honey to the tale
Like nectar of the gods, I fear
It trickled into your kind ear
Far too quickly, far too keen
They left me feeling sick and mean
Like popcorn firing in my brain
A lie was born - I can't explain
Categories:
tenderised, muse,
Form: Rhyme