Your Integrity isn’t worth much
If Pride keeps you from apologizing
Or Fear lets you justify hurting someone…
~ kei
11 March 2018
Your Integrity isn’t worth much
If Pride keeps you from apologizing
Or Fear lets you justify hurting someone…
~ kei
11 March 2018
It’s just a moment of weakness, please don’t respond
Allow this chink in my armor, then move along
Should the same human failing happen to you
I’ll be certain to make some allowances too…
~ kei
13 June 2017
Seems like just yesterday I was nobbut a wee hat trick of a puckling…
No time to poem – gotta go polish the huskies ’cause… Winter Is Coming.
~kei
3 November 2016
Imagine all the angst we could prevent simply by using our words…
Last night, as I studied your face
(the brown eyes and curls I loved, now a semi stranger’s pixels)
I thought how much better the world would be
(i would be, you would be, even if it is in this two-dimensional world)
If you didn’t confuse empathetic with pathetic, reaching for grasping
(the world can be an unkind place but my heart will always be a haven, even for you)
~ kei
18 March 2016
~ kei
7 March 2016
~ kei
31 January 2016
You know…
It isn’t your feet of clay that depress me and have turned passion to pity
Not that at all, once beloved of my youth
Read this: my ironic smile
Not that at all
It is your icy heart
Your sedimentary soul
Your calcified mind
Mostly I mourn our friendship’s lost potential…
I mourn the rebuff wrapped in this abhorrently cheap suit of transparent macho immaturity you insist on wearing like an Armani suit
Your sadly archaic, Neanderthal and schoolboy-perception driven ego
That makes you think that you are above even the smallest of social courtesies
For fear that by those, I might find you enticing enough to pursue you
Sad little man
What did you do to the boy that I loved?
And no…
That question was not me flirting with you
~ kei
20 January 2016
Ever the little match girl
Shivering outside the hall
Watching people come and go
New and old, all welcomed
With hearts, flowers
Euphemistic hugs and “huns”
Sisterhood claimed
But only for the chosen ones
There is no real sisterhood
Behind these walls of glass
Melancholy?
Yes. As I wave goodbye
To another stranger
I could throw a rock
To break the walls
Shatter the false illusions
Instead, I’ll square my shoulders
Souldering on with my integrity
Those who choose to listen to a snake’s whispers
Those of tribe hearts, hugs and smileys
Are too false and too shallow
For walking wounded like me
Remain in your palace of glass
Far too hard to make a true effort
And it will come to pass
That truth will be revealed
Duplicity and lies can’t be forever
Concealed
~ kei
13 July 2015
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?
Me!
🙂