In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Tattoo….You?.


With each black ink stab

Clothed as I should have been born

In Soul Walker skin

~ kei
13 August 2015

Serenity, Courage, Wisdom ©Karin Bole Tupper

Serenity, Courage, Wisdom
©Karin Bole Tupper


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Green-Eyed Monster.”

I envy those

With the knack of prose

Words without end

Flow free from their pens

I struggle here

And sometimes I do fear

Ink I spill

Transfused from vein to quill

Has grown clear

And dry as my tears…

~ kei
16 May 2015

Poequote Soutar Ink


Fashion (Non)Sense

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Clothes (May) Make the (Wo)man.”

They do!

My clothes are my armour, my shield, my declaration and my war cry… err… when I’m not being a normal-ish, hausfrau-ish, Mum-ish person.

Define my personal style?

Punk, Goth, Boho, Indian, Rocker, though not necessarily in any order and often in combination with one another. Never at the same time though and never before the 24th of May. That would be gauche.

The downside of being a creative, artsy type who is not afraid to wear what they’ve always loved is that Society still clings to its rules, regulations, age and gender stereotypes and general stick-up-arse-ishness about individuality and expression.

What’s with that sidelong look and side of smirk?

No I will NOT stop wearing Doc Martens and Misfits tees simply because you were born and randomly discovered this stuff too… Sheesh… Some people’s kids. As if I’d tell my Mum she has to give up her Queen albums just because I heard them on a Top 40 show.

Don’t even get me started on piercings and tattoos.

I “play them game”, you bet I do. I’m a master at disguising my unique style under a Nursing uniform or a business suit and you’d be none the wiser. Yay! I’m subversive and I love it.  “Corporate Goth” is a boon to those of us who must resist The Borg. Let Freedom ring in all the closets across the land!

I pair my moccasins with suits and skull motifs with flowers. I’m more inclined to buy something with Johnny Ramone on it than Juicy Couture. No Tommy Hilfiger shall ever cross my doorstep.

What does my fashion sense make me?



Cináed IV

Daily Prompt: Tainted LovePhotographers, artists, poets: show us RELEASE.

We can’t go on like this Love
The stakes are too high
I’ve loved you since forever
And so I shall until I die

You are still so beautiful
Your essence is the air I breathe
And my colours are all gone
Whenever you cannot be with me

But the shades of grey we live
Are choices made so long ago
And though it means the world
To me that you finally let me know

These stolen moments, kisses
Just keep this raging fire alive
We need to dampen down the flame
And yet continue to survive

So take me in your arms Love
Just one more time, this is the last
You cannot be my future
But forever my treasured past

~ kei
22 February 2014

I’m A Mocker

Daily Prompt: New Sensation

From “A Hard Day’s Night” with The Beatles, 1964
Reporter: Are you a mod or a rocker? Ringo: Um, no. I’m a mocker.

I’m all over that! Jump on that bandwagon! Gotta get me some of that! I LOVE your hair, where do you go?
Fads, trends, we all subscribe or fall victim, as the case may be, to some form of them at some point in our life.
Fashion fads are easy for people around us to attack, they’re right there for anyone to see and judge. Does anyone else feel the irony of the blatant disregard for the golden rule of “Don’t judge a book by its cover”? We all of us do just that every day though, don’t we? I’m often tempted, when a stranger offers their opinion on my appearance to ask, “Are you this rude and judgemental with every stranger you meet or am I a special case?”
Trends serve a useful purpose. Yes. Yes, they do. In our teen years, in particular, when we are striving to find a place for ourselves outside the safe boundaries of family and close community. Being part of an identifiable group – usually identifiable by the clothes they wear – is a safe way to push those boundaries a little, while still feeling as part of a whole.
I’ve always believed that it’s important to respect the choices about appearance that others make. We don’t judge a person’s intellect, ambition or dependability based upon their choice of vehicle. Why do that based upon their outward appearance? This is not to say that certain professions and industries should not be allowed to establish their own dress codes. I don’t expect the world to bend for me. I do expect to not be marginalized or disrespected because I wear my hair differently than the majority.
The world can’t spend so much time nurturing and developing individuality in its children, only to quash it at the moment that our kid comes home with a blue Mohawk. Talk about a mixed message! See reference to “the golden rule” above. What is the worst that can happen? Your son has his nosed pierced at his high school graduation? If that’s the focus, you’ve missed the point. Your child is graduating! As a parent, I drew the line for certain types of fashion and adornment. I explained my position and was open to discussion and debate, as it came up. For the most part, this was respected and worked very well.
My own trend following actually is part of who I am. Like my taste in music, it hasn’t altered much over the years. I grew and matured, have held highly professional jobs. At the same time, I was able to preserve the uniqueness – fad, if you will – of me. I’ve grown to call this “playing the game” and it helps me to maintain a definition of myself that I like and yet to fit in amongst folk who are inclined to forget that they too, have and do follow fads. I don’t see anyone still wearing culottes or fedoras and so…
The most denigrated fads and trends these days are still tattooing and piercing. It should be pointed out that tattooing, with its lengthy history among many cultures and eras, can hardly be called a fad. In the Twenties, many (many) respectable women were having tattoos done. Like other “Power Periods” for women, the Forties, the Eighties; fashion extremes reflected a power shift. The Twenties is the time where colourful nail polish was born. There are countless examples of how fashion, body adornment, music, even makeup styles have been created and recreated. You’ve seen the eyebrows of the mid-two thousands, right?
The real question posed by today’s prompt was what trends did you follow? I grew up in a very fluid time for these things and as an adult, I embrace many still. If you ask me the name of my social tribe, I am a “Punk Rocker”. The grandmother of Romantic, Goth, Emo, et al. I’m pretty sure that my high top Cons and Ramones tee shirts were a little disconcerting to the rest of the PTA but I “played the game”. I no longer sport all the outward accoutrements but much of it, like the music is still very much a part of who I am.
Fad? Don’t think so. We’re going on thirty years with this particular style. We gather likeminded people, there are no “Posers”. Am I a poser because I like my Dad’s Led Zeppelin or my Mum’s Queen? Not even a little bit. Fads are pokemon cards and crazy bones. Style; whatever that may be for you, is simply a nod to one small piece of many that can connect us to each other.
~ kei
20 February 2014 (Oops! I wrote an essay)

Cons and Pointes


If Wishes Were Butterflies, My Net Would Be Full…

Daily Prompt: Lucky Star

Unimaginative prompt? Perhaps, but who am I to judge? I’ve yet to come up with the words that prompt much more than a click. It could be said that by declaring a wish, it garners substance and enters the realm of possibilities. Well, if said by an incurable romantic and a hopelessly optimistic dreamer and so, from that perspective…
Wishes are for children, dreamers and romantics. Fair to say most of us know that and yet… in the aftermath of the implosion of my life, I find myself wishing constantly and fervently as a child. I wish on stars and on the magic hour of 12:34, the moment my son made his entrance to this world. I wish on folded paper stars from New Year’s celebrations gone by. I wish on the full moon and more often these days, those wishes are both prayer and mantra.
I wish with all my heart, the ache is palpable and I wish with all my soul, the stain on it notwithstanding.
For one tiny moment, let’s pretend that it is possible for a Guardian, faery or kind philanthropic soul to grant wishes for no particular reason at all, even to the least deserving of us. For even as I wish, I hear my voice in my head and it says: “miracles aren’t for the likes of me”, “you make your own luck”, “you can’t go home again”. I want to tell it to shut the hell up as I blow an imaginary dandelion and set all those wishes free.
~I would wish for an opportunity, just one; to come from the effort that I do put in to the work that makes me happy and yet, as of now cannot support me.
~I would wish for the means to put right some of the cosmic insanity that is the fallout of misinformed decisions. Yes, obtaining a significant sum of money would help facilitate that.
~I would wish for love. Body, mind and spirit thrive in love.
After all, aren’t wishes often dreams, goals and opportunities that are currently just in disguise?