MY LIGHTBULB MOMENT (Spiritual Awakening) BY KRISTIE TOWNSEND
5 July 2012 at 21:38

MY LIGHTBULB MOMENT BY KRISTIE TOWNSEND

Be careful what you wish for
for one day it may come true
I used to jest about my wishes
in a time before I discovered, just what Magick can do

Karma, I didn't really think that much of
and I'd never even heard of 'The Threefold Law'
didn't pay any attention to spirits
and I'd never considered that I may have been here before!

What the heck's 'The Wiccan Rede"?
Is it something I want or need??!!
So what if I should harm someone
Has this not before, to me, been done??

Why would anyone believe in what can't be touched nor seen?
In Perfect Love? And In Perfect Trust??
What's That supposed to mean??
And why should I read some poetry Written by a woman called Doreen??

Then In my light bulb moment, as quick as a flash!
I thought 'Now I see what the fuss is all about'
and at that very second, for Magick I fell hard and fast!
Saddened for a minute, thinking of what Joy so far I'd lived with out!

My only regret is that I didn't discover sooner, universal energy,
I should have walked this path long before now
For Magick and its power, have opened my eyes - OH and How??!! WOW

Some people think I'm weird,
Others think i'm mad
I came out of my spiritual broom closet
and for that I'm so very glad!

I'm looking forward to my future
with wide and enthusiastic eyes
long gone are empty days all alone
no more sleepless nights, filled with self-pitying cries

I'm the happiest that I have ever been
Thanks to energies that remain untouched, unseen
IN PERFECT LOVE & IN PERFECT TRUST
I will follow My Destiny, My Heart, My Dreams - I MUST!


by Kristie Townsend 12.11.08

I'm going to be reading Saturday, first reading in exactly four months. I would like you guys to help me pick what to read: send me your 3 favorite titles (a link or description if untitled). I will read the most poular, if not the two most popular (but not the one about my algebra class or dreams,  if you like a section of either  of those, send me the section number). And if you live close to Port Townsend, Washington and would like to hear me read, it's from 6-7 pm at Pippa's Real Tea, downtown Port Townsend. There are two other scheduled readers, both are pretty amazing, and then a half hour open mic.

In last November 2015 a friend of mine named Bridget died and
Her partner sadly misses her
And on August 12 2016 Bridget
Was reincarnated as Michael Townsend son of Alice and brother of Toby Townsend
You see it is my work as Cronus to bring Bridget back into the world as Michael Townsend
And another mate of mine that died last year was Steve Grigor
And September 6th 2016
Steve Grigor was reincarnated as Ethan felix Vaughan
You see as soon as Steve died
Bridget took him by the hand and they shared many a methane smoothie together
So their bodies can improve the quality of their life and now
Bridget's mother is Alice and Steve is son of Tamara and Henry
Here is a welcome to earth song to Bridget and steve's soul
Welcome welcome welcome
You drink your methane and you have a lot of fun
And now you have been reincarnated into your new life
Death isn't the end
It is a new beginning
So let's party with Michael and Ethan

I pray the Lord their souls to keep
Make the days as short as sleep
My kid, an Airman, the time is nigh
Spread their wings and let them fly
Save the world and protect our land
In the air and on the sand
Teach them skills and plant a seed
To live an oath, the Airmans Creed
In their blues, us parents grin
Aim high, our Airmen, Fly, Fight, Win
-Duane Townsend

(almost) 60:
So what?
It’s only  
a lonely
number,
A digit,  
A widget  
A speck

       At 60:
Some are happy
But some, alone  
Without a home  
Others widowed,
Divorced  
or forced  
into Invisibility.

We are who we are.
Some poor,
some rich,  
some think it’s a *****.  
Black or white,
gay or straight  
love or hate.  
Life is what we make it

Growing older
has its perks.
There’s Social Security,  
more maturity,  
AARP.
Medicare,  
blue hair,  
Sr. Discount @ McDonald’s

Replace a hip.  
Botox a lip.  
The knee’s arthritic,  
the stomach acidic.  
Life is fragile,
And just like that!  
Snap!  
It could be gone!

Meandering down
the road of life.
Oblivious.  
Lascivious.  
  A relationship, or two.
Stopping for a beer,  
having a career,
driving with the top down.

Then… SLAM….
brick wall ahead….SIXTY!
Screech of brakes.  
For God’s sake.  
Sixty’s the new forty?
*******.  
Deal with it.  
Get your head on straight.  

It was Pete Townsend
who penned,
“I hope I die before I am old.”  
Truth be told?  
Older makes wiser.  
Wiser makes sense.  
Truth to dispense,  
and still a lot to learn,

Growing old “gracefully"
is an art in itself.
From middle age  
to Sage,  
we step into our skin,
and rejoice  
our voice  
is heard  

I will be thankful!
I’ll thank the Lord each day!
For my three gorgeous girls,  
the best friends in the world,  
and a job that pays the bills.
Wealth,
My health
To love myself
At 60.

Sixty is ****

If I lived through the sixties, I can live through the 60’s.

(maybe a **** or two would help though)

If I could pick the menu,
I'd choose a tasty appetizer of Hendrix pituitary,
& a huge salad covered with Joplin cortex.
Plant's gray matter for the main course,
sides of Jaggar & Morrison stems,
along with a bottle of Springsteen spinal fluid.
I'd definitely have to order
an ample sweet-portion
of Daltrey thalamus
& sprinkle it with some Cobain lobes.
A shot of John's cranium
with a nightcap of Townsend cerebellum
would surely hit the spot.

Sometimes
in the
Devil's hour,

when your form
is next to
mine,

I can feel, can
hear your body pulsing,
twitching,
speaking
with the world

I'm never sure
if I should
let it talk,
release its
stories to the
night,

or if I
should brush
you with my fingers
and pull you back
into existence
next to me.

Dylan Klebold (17)... Senior.... September 11, 1981- April 20, 1999
Eric Harris (18)... Senior.... April 9, 1981- April 20, 1999
Cassie Bernall (17)... Senior.... November 6, 1981- April 20, 1999
Lauren Townsend (18)... Senior.... January 17, 1981- April 20, 1999
Rachel Scott (17)... Senior.... August 5, 1981- April 20, 1999
Corey DePooter (17)... Senior.... March 3, 1982- April 20, 1999
Daniel Mauser (15)... Sophy.... June 25, 1983- April 20 1999
Daniel Rhohrbough (15)... Sophy.... March 2, 1984-  April 20, 1999
Dave Sanders (47)... Old ****.... October 22, 1951- April 20, 1999
Kelly Fleming (16)... Junior.... January 6, 1983- April 20, 1999
Steve Curnow (14)... Freshmeat.... August 28, 1984- April 20, 1999
Matt Kechter (16)...Sophy.... February 19, 1983- April 20, 1999
Isaiah Shoels (18)... Senior.... August 4, 1980- April 20, 1999
John Tomlin (16)... Junior.... September 1, 1982- April 20, 1999
Kyle Velasquez (16)... Junior....May 5, 1982- April 20, 1999

The Final Goodbye - Written By Kristie Townsend
5 July 2012 at 21:27

ITS TIME

This is it
The end of the line
I knew that the day would eventually come
When I got that call, it was time


The Can of Worms opened
The fear, The pain -
and all other unexpected emotions provoked
On the stench of death I nearly choked

Who do I now share with?
Who will hear my grief?
How will I ever heal?
on my own again Is my belief

I will see you in The Summerland
I will say Goodbye for now, Hold you tight
Share with you precious final moments
no matter who argues, whatever the fight

My regrets are plenty
my memories few
but at least I can say
that I do have some with you

This is my final line to you
My chance to lay to rest the past
I feel grief, sad and blue and also
as though I always came last

by Kristie Townsend (04.04.07)

Written in memory of My maternal Grandma, Kath Ledwith who passed away the day before. She suffered a very long, painful, agonising passing, May Her Un-tamed and Unconventional spirit now be at peace, free to roam, free from pain, free from the many hardships she encountered on the earthly plane. May the Goddess Love and Guide you Nana. Love you *** (P.S. I miss your Trifles!)

D.N.A RESULTS by Kristie Townsend (23.07.07)


patiently I wait for the pain to stop
for blackness to overwhelm my fractious senses
for death to soothe my destroyed emotions
for eternal silence to end my indifferent pretenses

but even drug induced comas
or the gift of life, twice
leaving my children, or those whom proclaim to care
are enough of an incentive for me to wish to remain here

I lost my daddy, Eric, Mr T
I betrayed myself, I fell apart
I believed the DNA results would set me free
instead they broke my fragile heart

But the universe and life unfolds as indeed it should
although not always as I would like or desire
and one day, when I look back
Im sure Ill be glad that It wasnt my time to expire

Escape Plan (by Kristie Ledwith Townsend)
17 May 2012 at 06:39

I feel no pain,as I slice myself again


all I feel is numb, dumb, brains gone


disgust and loathing at myself, shame


not a chance of laughter, long gone, my fun.








when was the last time I laughed?


really giggled? until I could no longer catch my breathe?


when did I last let loose? Carefree?


when was my sarcasim, last at its best? dreft?





I look at myself in the mirror, what do I see?


who is that? eyes dead? lifeless, staring back at me?


when hollow, insincere words escape empty shell


I pray that today, I finally leave this life, my self imposed hell.








I've planned it now, my final goodbye


down to the very last letter, not even a half arsed try


yes I am thinking of my children, yes I am thinking of you


You'd be better off without me, without the damage you know I'd do








please do not save me, not this time


I want to meet my maker, I want to converse with the divine


I no longer wish to merely exsist, not on this earthly plane


No more shame, nor blame, not in this 'Townsend' name








I am being selfless, not selfish, please ,please see


I am thinking of us all, and not just pathetic ole me


Please don't mourn for something filled with age old scourn


For I will be glad, to no longer be , an involuntary Pawn.








I shall smile at the gates of heaven


if indeed that is my intended destination


pain gone, carefree, just me


finally I can be the spirit I've always wanted to be





if you think me selfish, if you think me bad


save that energy for something more productive


for someone who'll be glad you had


for that is a wasted emotion on me, I am not sad,


for at last feeling free, How I always wanted to be.......











Just me.......Kristie

24.07.07 - by Kristie Townsend
3 October 2009 at 17:36

In a darkened pit
a space in which I seem to fit
despair, fear, my escorts here
and paranoia chased hard at my rear

been given a label
a title, of which I am quite able
to stick upon my frowning forehead
whilst still wishing I was dead

suicidial emotions
irrational words spoken
secret ritual, daily self harm
like starvation and cutting my arm

plaster on that fake grin
take it all on my chin
never to surrender, never to give in
for I am merely another child borne of sin

where is the cadence moving?
is it towards jesus christ?
is it towards a shining *****?
is it foreword?

how does anything happen
linear? how does anything happen
spherical? remember that time
when devin townsend masturbated me
with his guitar pick?

i'll tell you about this plum:

when albert hofmann gave me the
gift seven lifetimes ago, he created
a radioactive island. it needs no aid,
it sees no faces, it survives auto
trophically on moldavite &moonbeams;.

Townsend and Daltry are the ones putting me in a trance tonight,
Sending me to a time of excess and glory,
To reflect on a personal fight,
A battle against one's own mind,
One that will undoubtely be gory.

The first two minutes are void of voice,
The mixture of keyboard, synth and guitar too pure,
To me it seems like the perfect choice,
To express the feelings of one's own self-destruction,
As something without a cure.

False fronts are raised,
A gilded shell to all those to see,
To cover the corrupted and depraved,
To hide away guilt and shame,
Buried deep down,
Then Townsend lets it rip.

Its all just a great misdirection,
The perfect lie to distract and deceive,
Smoke and mirrors to lead you away from the lows achieved,
All in the name of dark recreation.

Inhaling,
The unfiltered cigarette' s tip glows bright,
Adrenaline is released and insulin is suppressed,
Yet the words continue yet.

A certain brand of funk pours from the speakers,
Setting the air alight with 80's vibe.

They call to you now,
The addiction and excess,
For you've tasted from the apple,
And now the hooks have sunk in.

But rip through the straps you must,
Put on a smile for all to see,
You mustn't show weakness now,
For all the others must see you as free.

The guitar is haunting,
The drumming sublime,
The bass setting an ominous tone for this tune,
Like Damocles's sword set above your head,
The slightest slip will cause everything to be hewn.

my room smells like stale cigarettes
a bunch of wilted flowers on my bedside
and so i lay them over your grave
in the cemetery where my thoughts go to die
the lazy afternoon ***** with jim morrison
and pete townsend watching us from the walls
jars of ***** collecting in my closet because
im still throwing up the milk i ****** from you
when i was still a child and you were a man
when you took your coffee black
and mine was almost white in comparison

For long enough I stood there waiting
The consequences for us dating
But as you know I’d wait forever
Your love is my whole life’s endeavor

Do you remember when we met?
A moment I cannot forget
You drew me in with charm and sweetness
Surely how one should impress

I called you and we met at Cly’s
All dressed in white from head to thighs
And there you kissed me on my lips
I touched you with my finger tips

We walked back over to my dorm
Took over Townsend like a storm
Then I woke up, sun shone brightly
I kissed and tickled you so lightly

And saw that gorgeous smile gleam
I wondered what it all could mean
Maybe, that you were the one?
Our journey had only just begun

But then, from nowhere, stroke of fate
I asked you, “Barndance, be my date?”
You answered back, to my displeasure
“Him and I, we’re back together”

Crushed, disheartened, thoughts unclear
Body shifting rage in gear
We can only be good friends?
I guess it’s where the story ends

Except it can’t, my heart’s the same
I’ll keep on playing your sick game
Cause I will wait, I’ll wait for you
‘Til once again this dream comes true

I’ll take your body close to mine
Kiss you sweetly all the time
Passions wild, senses numbed
I’ll pray that morning never comes

But when the sun should slowly rise
I’ll gaze into your hazel eyes
And if I stare for long enough?
Your eyes will open, full of love.

Isn't it easy to write during these times,
And difficult to write on these times,
Without ripping off figurative comparisons.

I want to use wasteland
But I'd be the one compared,
And that won't work. That's not my intent.
Besides, Townsend and T.S. worked it.

There are the platinum choices
Like Satan, Lucifer, or Legionnaire.
But Milton has his scent all over these,
And the Bible invented them.

Those times.
These times.

Apocalypse, or any version thereof,
Would surely bring Brando to mind,
And Kurtz's heart of darkness.

There are inspiring descriptors like,
Cataclysm, devastation and destruction.
Well-represented in cinema
Since Birth of a Nation.
Now there's irony.

As much as Holocaust would be perfect to plagiarize,
I, nor anyone else, should ever attempt,
(And it would be a vain glory attempt at best)
To use this singular word
In an analogy for anything, ever again.
Ever!
Unless absolutely necessary.
Unless someone we know gets stupid.
Then more stupid.
Then stupider.
Then most stupid.
And finally,
Not with a whimper, but a bang.
I falter.
Not exactly plagiarism is it?
Shouldn't be repeated either.

Religious stand offs, the prophecy foretold. The holy war that only the bible could have known.

Blacks and whites could fight for days and nights. Mainstream media makes the battle go, ignite.

Pandemics spread with haste, we know there's no controller, the final form takes place, a demon named Ebola.

You know that famous saying
That money is the root,
And all that I keep saying is that there's no substitute, for evil.

One part materialistic with two parts ballistics, a society insane with seven heads that are twisted.

I've got words and melodies that are beautiful like Pete Townsend's.
But when I'm angry at the world my power level's over nine thousand!

It takes a lot of devastation to learn a little appreciation. Mother nature's in control, under God, one nation.

The sun will rise tomorrow if we make the right choices. Stop listening to what's trending and start listening to your inner voices.

There's beauty in the world, with a lot of negative spaces. Find some one who's less fortunate than you and try to trade places.

The dirt, the trees, and the water is important. It's the material things in our lives that we need to forfeit.

We can wait for all of time but time waits for no man. Live your life to the fullest, your only one man son you cant dodge bullets.

It could all be gone in the blink of and eye, wake up with gray and see how time flies.

The hate has to stop. The listening needs to start. Stop getting offended with every jab to the heart.

I am no one, small wisdom that don't compare. Learn from everyone, even those that don't care.

Dark to light is how this story is told. The human race has reached a crossroad, which way will we go?

Years from now will we sing the Star Spangled Banner, or will we all live in the War Strangled Manner.  

By Matt Drake

written by Kristie Ledwith Townsend in 2007, about my Eating Disorder.

17 May 2012

MY QUEST TO BE THIN


I begin to heave, to choke
Surprised? why? own fault!
Its all the food I've just forced down my own throat!
No one knows the true extent of my pain
Or how this self harm feeds my own shame
And, how I only have myself to blame

Sometimes, I even forget to chew
Focused only on ramming, stuffing, gorging
In my own nausea and self loathing I silently stew

Then theres the urge to run, for my own guts I must, predictably, spew

Its a welcome release, a relief
I'm clean, at peace, thats my silly belief
But just seconds later, those old hatreds return
Along with internalised anger, at my inability to learn!

New ways to release negatives are what I need
To My Angels, Spirits, Guides & the Universe I frantically plead
"release me, PLEASE, from this self imposed hell!"
"just for a little while, so I can feel well"


When I can not throw up I know what I must do
Buy Laxatives, how many? - a lot
And then Find a quiet loo

If they should fail to work
I always have amphetamine to give me a perk
'I'm an addict' -I half heartedly joke
As to the ribs, my conscience, gives me a sharp poke

I'd give ANYTHING to be thin and happy
I willingly embrace guilt, paranoia & being snappy

For NEVER, EVER again do I wish to be fat


Nor to be miserable, or taken for a ****








So until I find a cure


whilst my emotions remain raw


I'll keep popping pills, making my throat sore


Binge eating, looking to score, forever needing more








If I was CLEVER, PRETTY, THIN


YOUNGER, FUNNIER, HAD GREAT SKIN


He would have LOVED me, he would have stayed


He would never have played, the cruel games that he played








He would still be here, holding me tight


Loving me, soothing me, hearing my plight


Kissing me, caressing me, each and every night


Wanting me near him, keeping me in his sight








But I pushed him away, with my self abuse


Ha! or at least that was his excuse


He wasn't strong enough to see it through


He was not aware of the damage, him leaving would do








So, for now, I'll continue to purge daily, it helps me smile


for I feel slightly in control again, for just a short while


One day, when I'm braver, Stronger, Have a goal


I will break this habit, dig myself out of this hole





Failure to do so, I will NOT contemplate


I must seek HELP now, before its too late


I must do IT NOW, I must plan my escape!

FOR MY FRIEND.........By kristie Townsend 31.10.09

31 October 2009 at 22:06

I have a friend
my love for her, has no end
through all of the good stuff, and some times that are bad
she proves to me, that she is the bestest friend that I ever had

through all the laughter, and and all the tears
through the passing of the seasons, and of the years
we share with each other all of our hopes, dreams and fears
United, together we confront adversity if it nears

Through thick and through thin
at times when we lose and the triumphs that we win
my friend has been my constant companion, she is strong at my side
She provides all of the tissues, to mop up the tears that I've cried

Petty squabbles and arguements are only a temporary divide
all feelings of anger and annoyance are quick to subside
this poem is for you, my way of saying THANKS
this poem is for my mate ...............................??? you fill in the blanks!!

Love causes confusion, written by Kristie Townsend (09.04.07)
6 July 2012 at 00:15

LOVE CAUSES CONFUSION..........
I CAN'T SLEEP TONIGHT, BECAUSE YOUR NOT HERE YOU HAVE A HOME,
A LIFE OF YOUR OWN WITHOUT STRONG ARMS TO PULL ME NEAR
I FEEL ABANDONED & AFRAID, CONSUMED BY FEAR
"I'LL RETURN SOON, HONEST"
THATS WHAT YOU SAID YOU'D DO
"TRUST AND BELIEVE IN ME, BABE"
AND I HALF-HEARTEDLY TRIED, HONEST, ITS TRUE!
MY SENSES STIR AND MY SOUL AWAKENS
EVERYTIME YOU WALK IN THE ROOM
MY DEFENCES ARE DOWN, MY FOUNDATIONS SHAKEN
AS I BEG YOU "PLEASE, COME TO ME SOON"
A PHYSICAL PAIN, THAT IS WHAT I FEEL
WHEN YOU ARE NO LONGER HERE
MY ADDICTION AND DEPENDANCY ARE REAL
"OUR LOVE" BEING JEPODISED BY "MY FEAR"
"OLD DESTRUCTIVE HABITS DIE HARD" SAY THE CONSTANT VOICES IN MY HEAD
THEY LEAVE MY EMOTIONS, MY HEART SCARRED & LONELINESS IS ALLEVIATED BY ANALYSING ALL THAT YOU SAID.
I TRUELY HAVE NEVER GIVEN MYSELF TO ANOTHER, AS I DO TO YOU SOUL MATES, BEST FRIENDS, LOVERS
I REALLY WANT TO SEE THIS THROUGH
I BELIEVE THAT YOU DESERVE BETTER,
I CAN NEVER BE ENOUGH FOR YOU
I WOULD WRITE YOU A "DEAR JOHN" LETTER
BUT I CANNOT, FOR IT SIMPLY WOULD NOT BE TRUE
I AM A FOUNTAIN OF SOPPY SENTIMENT
WHEN I THINK OF OR SEE YOU
PREVIOUSLY FULL OF RESENTMENT
NOW I'M FILLED WITH SELF DOUBT & WHO YOU MAY *****!
I HOPE THAT YOU ARE A BIG BRAVE LION
COS I'M SCARED ENOUGH FOR TWO
I PRAY YOU'RE MADE OF STRONGER STUFF THAN I AM
FOR I FEEL WEAK, HELPLESS & ALL ASKEW
THE CONFLICTING SWIRL OF EMOTIONS
I HAVE DEEP WITHIN MY CORE
ARE MOST LIKELY TO CAUSE A COMMOTION
IF I SHOULD DARE TO DREAM OF MORE
I PRAY DAILY THAT WE STAY TOGETHER
IF NOT FOR A YEAR OR MORE
HOWEVER MY CYNICISM KNOWS BETTER
MY PREVIOUS EXPERIENCES PREDICT THE FINAL SCORE
I MEAN IT WHEN I TELL YOU THIS,
FOR WORDS ARE ALL THAT I HAVE,
YOU GET THE JIST?
I THINK THAT I'M FALLING IN LUST WITH YOU
AND NO I'M NOT *******!
I THANK YOU FOR ALL YOU HAVE GIVEN ME
WHICH IS A LOT, MORE THAN I KNOW
I LOVE, HONOUR, RESPECT & CHERISH YOU
WELL AT LEAST UNTIL THE DAY YOU GO!

A Child full of wonder comes home
And hangs her coat on a peg
She hangs her backpack
Her scarf and her mittens on a string
the new friends she made
the smell of a spring and freshly baked biscuits
And the sound of Mrs Townsend taking the register
She puts her headband on the peg, with her name painted on it in silver
And her jumper with her name sewn inside
The whirr of the acorn computer and the flash of coloured pencils
The shyness and worry about not fitting in
The wish to be seen but not be the centre of attention
The worry about nightmares coming true
The realisation that everything just like the day has to come to an end
I will always love you
She longed for a skipping rope
She ties the rope securely around the peg
How sturdy with all this weight
She stares at the peg proudly
She thought about her day and her hopes and her worries
and thought about how heavy they can sometimes feel
So she knows this peg is doing a great job
At taking the load

Eyes closed,
Fillings a'quivering,
As the dull background roar of the wind tearing by.

Eddie Vedder belting out the works of Etwistle, Townsend, Daltrey, Jones, and Moon.
Smoke exiting the windows as both my Father and I smoke.

Both laughing at the schadenfreude,
Seeing a traffic jam forming the other way,
Stretching out for 8 miles ahead,
With miles of more traffic to soon add on.

It's a shared humor at old jokes,
Shared a thousand times,
Like when we went hunting all those years ago.

I suppose it is nearing the time,
When my own path veers me so far away,
From the once small town I had grown,
Before I am to travel west,
In search of fufilling my purpose,
In service of the community as a whole.

The sun slowly setting,
As we reach the outskirts of Cincinnati,
The sky blue to flaring orange,
Lone clouds like embers being flung off the sun.

the tattoos they got
in love and in anger
have turned to cartoons
not warnings of danger

Pete Townsend was singing
about my generation
who are now on Zimmer frames
and hormone replacement

the kids were alright
in the cafés downtown
where the little blue pills
went around and around

now mellowed stagnated
judgemental outdated
by the new youth culture
that’s moving and shaking

jumping on bandwagons
and acting like tarts
they’re all ******* green
with no purple hearts

but the culture it ended
the scooters all scrapped
and none of them realised
that The Who they just rocked