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If only Monday had buttons or a zipper you could close.

Motivate
Motivate
Motivate
I write it thrice which is once three times
I need coffee
the clock in the hall chimes,
it's five minutes late
Motivate
Motivate
and relax.
 May 2019 Jazi
Edward Lear
There was a young lady in white,
Who looked out at the depths of the night;
But the birds of the air,
Filled her heart with despair,
And oppressed that young lady in white.
 May 2019 Jazi
Dea
Writing
 May 2019 Jazi
Dea
How to start writing
How to keep writing
Write, write, write
Writing

Pick a subject for writing
Make sure you reference your writing
Write, write, write
Keep writing

This amount of words for writing
Plus or minus 100 word max leeway for writing
Write, write, write
Still writing

Quotes in your writing
Punctuation for writing
Write, write, write
Writing

Title for writing
Page numbers for writing
Underline, paragraph, CAPITALISE
Your writing

Margin your writing
Spell check your writing
Re write, research, rephrase
Your writing

Is this your writing?  
Question your writing

Read
Hate
***** up
Start again
Your writing

Check your writing
Get a friend to check your writing
Panic, stress, just write
Your writing

****** writing

This will do, writing

Print, bind, hand in
Your writing

Write some more as you sign off your writing

Sigh
Feel sick
Crash
Sleep
Writing

Wait, wait, wait
Wait for someone to read your writing

Judge your writing
Mark your writing
Wait, wait, wait

Receive your writing

Read another's writing about your writing

Their writing, writing about your writing

To write whether the words in your writing are good writing
Therefore RIGHT writing

Or

Infact writing that ought not to have been written in the first place.

Now tell me

From this writing
And writing
And writing
And more writing

How do you write the words that you now want to be written?
 May 2019 Jazi
Dominique
Lunatics
 May 2019 Jazi
Dominique
I know the toothless women
Who crumple on the streets
The rain bleeds through their cardboard,
The cold drips through their feet

I know the dying children
With anaesthetic arms
The angels crowd around them
With time that burns their palms

I've hugged the brainwashed gangsters
With money drenched in blood
I've heard their broken weeping
While digging up the mud

I've seen the starving faces
Of the tired girls at home
The broken, hectic psyches
That eat them to the bone

I know the burning poets
With a desperate thirst for life
The need for finding soulmates
That pierces like a knife

There's weary public servants
Who risk their lives for good
And prove compassion every day
Yet stay misunderstood

Human love is buried
Beneath the plastic weight
Of angry allegations
And a world that feeds off hate

These people may be messy,
But they're beautiful and real
With hidden dreams and secrets
And ability to feel

We have a place to run to
With lights of peach and gold
Where all the weight is lifted
And all our tales are told

We live in total freedom
So safe beneath the moon
And though it seems ambitious
Our dreams will save us soon
The night brings comfort to those who need it most
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