Different fruits

I am the fruit of a different time and place

My freedom is something alien

a beast you cannot tame or calm

because I am my own person.

Belonging isn’t something which is I crave

fitting into your mould for me isn’t necessary

there is meaning to my world without it.

I am a good enough person,  that is all

I crave,  no more no less.

Having learned (finally),  that being me

is purely and simply who I was meant to be

If I try to force myself to fit

then I’d be worshipping a god of clay

Showing only a falsehood, not a truth

continuing on my path I was set upon

A long time before you came along

Never been a one size fit’s all, shrink to fit

the dye is cast the type is set

upon the page that is me

story that is written cannot be changed to suit

For I am myself, warts and all faults

That is good enough. I am not perfect and cannot be.

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Nightmare 1

ailsacawley

You think you’re one of the beautiful people.

Dare to imagine you can be one of us!!

No didn’t, never once

hadn’t contemplated that until you said

and still the answer was no

Not like them. I read books, so it made me odd, stood out

imagination marked me different, the reject in the factory

they commonly called school.

Made to stand in the bin, where rubbish belongs

voice of a cackling medusa like creature

who was purported to be an oracle, of knowledge

how could any child learn kindness

from a teacher who showed only childish cruelty?

Like pulling the legs from an insect to see

how long till it dies

You’d watch your victims, waiting

I could have made you stop I know

but damned if you’d ever see me cry, no matter

what you did, mind or body

words, jeers, slaps, pinches, no tears.

Granted, I could…

View original post 167 more words

Nightmare 1

You think you’re one of the beautiful people.

Dare to imagine you can be one of us!!

No didn’t, never once

hadn’t contemplated that until you said

and still the answer was no

Not like them. I read books, so it made me odd, stood out

imagination marked me different, the reject in the factory

they commonly called school.

Made to stand in the bin, where rubbish belongs

voice of a cackling medusa like creature

who was purported to be an oracle, of knowledge

how could any child learn kindness

from a teacher who showed only childish cruelty?

Like pulling the legs from an insect to see

how long till it dies

You’d watch your victims, waiting

I could have made you stop I know

but damned if you’d ever see me cry, no matter

what you did, mind or body

words, jeers, slaps, pinches, no tears.

Granted, I could have made it so very easy, if only I’d cried

so you could be a heroine, the one of pity

taking pity on your object of malice.

Stubbornly refusing to play the game

not a pawn on your personal chessboard

I couldn’t see some of their fears

simply that you hated me,

and your example said they should too.

Escaping your clutches every day, and knowing tomorrow was always

too close by

still hoping if I read enough

I might escape into one of those magical worlds

where happy was ever after, evil witches were dissolved by water (I wish!!!),

and cold, hard hatred wasn’t tangible

daily tasting of brackish water

churning my insides with it’s spoiled solution

or maybe just the tears I swallowed,

so you never got your only wish, not from me

a single tear to see, polite smiles that was all

barked orders observed, followed

The intent growing to see just one single tear

slide down my cheek,

Your victory

Never did happen.

The End

Chimera Poetry

This is the end.
The paved road stops here.
I have searched out the paths and the passwords
 the highways and right ways
 and talked the talk,
all golden tickets sought out and coveted,
yet they all crumbled
leaving my purse empty and my fingers green with the falsehoods smearing off of them
and I am…
tired.
I have expanded myself to be heard 
to be seen 
to be taken seriously
not for a ride
or at face value
and still the on the job training fell too short
and I have been invited to wander once again.
 
Good bye
good luck
good riddance….
 
I will no longer reach out
no longer expand.
I will contract instead to feel my experience
my self
at its purest
its most powerful.
A stars last breath is its brightest
and instead of begging for a map to the neon lit crowd…

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Uncle (Not)

You demanded to be called Uncle
never were you that
ruling with nastiness in your castle of fear
NO LIGHTS!! It isn’t dark
calling people stupid, bitch or worse as the mood took you
Mostly bad, laughing at your own nastiness
So clever weren’t you, Uncle not
you may ask why
but I will never in a lifetime
call you uncle without a snort of derision
Clicking your fingers, expecting service
thinking that a young girl would like your charms
fall for you
Ugly inside, warted, fat and dark
Surely davros was modelled on you, I thought
did all I could to give your scared lady
courage
Told she was funny, beautiful, clever, wise
Everything you said she wasn’t
To me she was, it was no lie, no untruth
you demand I call you uncle, sit on your lap
could feel the bile rise in my throat
No, I’ll not do either, ever!
Turning purple you say what?
I won’t, don’t like you and leave her alone
Stabbing a finger towards my aunt
she’s sweet and kind, doesn’t need you
always telling her bad stuff, time to stop!
Feelings I couldn’t keep bottled anymore, the genie out
Look at my aunt, hope she’s not upset
A quiet smile of victory on her face
leaving the room so it’s not recognised,
stored up for later
Tell my mother I deserve a beating for that
Warned touch her once, just once
Looking at me menace in his eyes
Calling your Dad, see what he says
Go on, uncle not,  I know what he’ll do
you should be afraid, he thinks you’re a pig
Inside you’re a small man who thinks he’s big

Ailsa