The noose hasn’t slackened –

Anaconda on my neck

And Wuthering Heights plays on –

You don’t hear the noise.

I know

that now.

The crack of shells deafens –

The ticking clock continually threatens

And words soft spoken linger –

I know

that now

You won’t hear the noise.

Unless you make it.

A soap opera becomes light entertainment –

The main evening news a measure –

A pleasure park chime

I know the noise –

A thesaurus for your rhetoric.

Knowledge to internally blacken over.

The microwave pings, mind the hotspots.

Mind the hosts cost…

Mind the hearts loss.

There’s life in silence.

For a while.

Blood ties.


21st October

the alarm was set. There were three minutes still
and all was black.

The wind crashed the trees, like dark, stormy seas the cliffs,

warm, balmy, tropical. Spicy.

Not All Hallow’s weather.

Clinging, swirling summer’s cast off clothes – making a giddy waltz of the wallflower.

One. Two. Three. One two three onetwothree wheeeeeeee
Spin in the corner Follow the leader Spinning laughter at the last rite the left the turn the absurd living dead the dead living
The alarm was set too early.

And there’s a black storm brewing…so they say.


Acceptance, rules and regulations on how we view others.

Reblogging this as it’s caught some attention!


24th December 1991, midnight mass at 21:00 hrs.

I sat and stared at the altar, at the priest holding up the sacrament, and I trembled. I felt it. I was sure that I felt it. My period had started! It was due today, and I’d made frequent trips to the toilet to check if it had started but until now, this moment in church, it had kept me in suspense. I closed my eyes and breathed out.

After communion, when the others wanted to leave mass early, I followed. I was eager to get home and to make sure that I was indeed bleeding. The frosty night was sharp through my thin coat, but I had my scarf pulled over my nose, and his warm hand holding mine, and that was all that mattered. With our heads down against the cold wind, we got back to my parents’ house…

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My lungs burn. Bursting. I can’t stop now.Pound the earth. Left right left right left right.

If I stop now I’ll die.

Inside. Clothes off. Shower.

Soap suds heavy on my legs. Razor scraping blunt on my cheek. Chin. Throat.

That salty taste on my tongue.

Mine or …

Waves rushed around me, in my ears, my mouth. Stinging my eyes.

She had been so…

Mine. She’d been mine.

For a while.

If I scrub hard enough. Bleed enough. Stop breathing long enough – it’ll end. Won’t it?

We hadn’t meant for this to go as far as this.

Everything stings. Is putrid. Stinks.

Stinks like rotting flesh. Gouged maggot invested.

It’s all inside me – this vile urge to possess.

To own.

To twist.

I can stop it.

I can.

I don’t have to do it again.

I do.

I will.

I want it.

I can’t stop.

Spots dance before my eyes and I twist more.

The sting. The power. The cries.

God it turns me on. I am invincible.


She loves it. She says so.

In that gasping way of hers she begs me to do it.

And I do. Every time I do it until she screams.

I scream.

My lungs burn. Stabbing pain.

Left right left right left right.

Till it sears.

Till the screams stop.

the battle march 

They marched.

One two left right.

They marched.

From far and wide they marched home.

With blisters and aching bodies, hearts and souls.

With optimism and voices.

They marched. They chanted. They called.

They faced slurs and ignorance, spit and hell fire.

They marched.

Wading through waters muddied, with heads held high and truth on their tongues.

They marched.

One two left right.

With love as their guide they marched and spoke to everyone. 

They marched and were counted.
They marched for us all. For love. For life.

We marched to the castle and the world heard our cry.

Our battle cry. Our victory cry. Our solidarity. 


what do you see?

Tea? Coffee? Here you go… Help yourself to cream. Sugar? One or two?
No! Stop! No sugar for you!
Cake? Pie? There you go…that one there has three types of chocolate and sprinkles. Here have some cream on the side.

There’s the plain biscuit section over there for you. Don’t worry! There’s two plains to choose from.
Lovely outfit…perfect for the occasion. I love the diamanté and that colour is gorgeous.
Don’t you think…that you’re a little OTT? Just a little bit…well… Flamboyant? Everyone will look.
Beef or salmon? Or both if you like. 
There’s bread on the way for you. Just be patient. What? No. No butter.
Here, here’s your seat. It’s the best in the house. You can see everything from here but the bigger picture, nothing like being close up is there!
That one, down there…behind the pillar and next to the boiler… That’s your seat. Don’t worry… It’s not spewing carbon monoxide – well at least we think it isn’t. And if you lean hard on your right knee you’ll see just fine.
A family ticket? Grand… There’s a discount for being a family. Half the normal fee- €20. There you go! Enjoy your day!
A family ticket? A family ticket! (Yeah right) But you’re not a family…oh. I see. Well then. That’s grand. €40 just about covers it.


Nothing like a bit of double standard action… Imagine if you were forced to have the basics whilst others took the crust every time, at every meal, at every occasion, every minute of everyday for your entire life.
Just try to imagine it.

Try to justify why YOU should have a choice of the best…and tell why you’re love is as important as anyone else’s.
Try do that without taking onboard allll of those things that you take for granted- like not being questioned.
It’s not so easy – if you’ve never had to answer or explain yourself to anyone you’ll find it difficult to do.