It amounts to nothing
When it's taken back
A permanent display of change
But they they just want me to react

All the while I'm sleeping
With nothing really in my head
I guess we should be severed
If you want to cut off my head

And in the throws of finality
The conquest seems more dear
But there'll be no grieving process
Just rumination
At least that one things clear.

I watched television for many years,
it never perplexed me;
Like a pile of gold coins that are never unbalanced.

The most I ever got out of marriage was breathing heavily -
but hell - I'm not going to pretend to be one of those ageing women
who understand the menopause.
The man I met, when I was dying
was very, unironically, inhibited.
In every way he sustained me:
by weeding out the knots in my hair,
turning off the bedside telephone against hospital rules,
never sharing his food with me,
helping me to bury my dreams: that.
in the gust of many heavy, hateful cemeteries.
He privately grieved for me by sarcastically sulking when I was holding onto my red balloon.
And then I came out of the hospital, with the all clear.

And four months later, I thought of him at my husbands funeral.

The ledge doesn't look up anymore
as viciousness of the ultra sound scan
issues detriment and dilation from a
doctors point of view

mother vicariously, implants
her
suppositions and inquisitions
but the doctor allows no
imposition

for ultra sound scans are safe right?

The next assumption
come from the fun of the media
and it's unforgiving nature
and how we challenge it
with weakness, spoilt in our bones by a mannerism here, a talk there, a joke further along the road, and a promise of safety in the form of insurance

but by the time you're insured it's too late.


Again, the safety seekers look to bring their complaint higher/
but balloons and celebratory decorations like Christmas
crowd the way


so now they know somethings going on.

Time to stand up to all authorities then.

In the name of Christ. Poonanny Christ. Poonanny Lord God.

inx djun yghfor(aus)  elimile rarch tytubbul satre hevo (ean) croosh badanan vealifo coause drszi demon off. out.

manasticks, dreal, buethmlu(s), cruncks, ful belly, ecstatum, ulbama, eirich, madness, blight upon the blot, cassery cassererry?, penal system, brergog, jmaffield,  that, tied, tried, master of puppets.

Poonanny Lord.

Telephone slightly off the hook, miss Jefferson took a competent whack at putting it straight. Unfinished business, frequently results in misconception, which those on the other end of communication are then further subjugated to a lack pf understanding. Through manipulation, propaganda and patterns, sometimes just a misunderstanding of oneself, can be the cause of things seeming or even being out of sync with the surrounding world. But then you must ask what is it about me that makes this so? is it the buttery fingers of spirit at times? Or the miscalculation of events and dates when one grows older? Is it getting so **** near to something before being antagonized and then becoming nothing more than a victim of the system? I beleive every soul is stronger than the system. it just sometimes takes time and alot of patience - first to just put it out of your mind; and then play long. even if you make mistakes, just focuss on what you're good at - Even if you get bored  as long as your not sabotaging your cause, you can play youre ignorance up for fun. Or just generally attract attention from hidden cameras satellites and the like. I enjoy miming out my musical tastes when it comes to cameras. **** everyone else. So much is changing, and I'm hardly noticing it, I guess because i'm not on the stage of full operations. And if I was it wouldn't work. But to be honest it is a bit offensive having a peadophile represent the changes I want to make to the world.
in fact I imagine alot of world leaders aer peadophiles, they are aliens after all...

It is somewhat of an enigma
How cotton can come to life
To reach out to you
And as it echoes throughout the ages
It becomes the only thing I didnt write
But then again I haven't had tapeworms for years.

Amen Lord

struck by just after 10 o clock meds,
the easiness wears in slowly
so it's not exactly hard

but there's no soft landing either
because it's so late

the wrong people have been talking about the wrong
things for tooo long

econoclespies, draw on uteruses, plaque guards - male motherhood -

while i root the daisies from my almost bare memory
in a spark of prayer.

Amen Apollo. Amen Artemis. Amen Hercules. Amen Ra. Amen Siri. Amen Horus. Amen Athena. Amen Vishnu. Amen Aphrodite... Amen Lord. Amen An. POONANNY FOR YOU ALL. ;)

Arteries at the
behest
A warranted regality
normed
By   visualisation of a
trashcan kind

The counter intuitive action consumes the
Thorough blow to the chest
From icy winds -
We flee

Gusts of geranimo stall and cluck
Like fearsome dions
And freakishly or fittingly
The armour is won

A wooly hat, woven from a spider hat
The classlessness has treathed forth
Since the beginning though

And these days it's a matter of
Who catching whom
Or whom catching who

When it should be who catching you

To be a dew drop
would be nothing like
being the ocean

it wasn't ever meant to be
personified that way

more like the sound of relief
and the unknown
because you never know what is coming
at the time of the morning
at which dew drops appear.

Al the times I loved with a 'phew'
I suppose i was an exchange
more than me givbg something back to you

As the night shift settles
of course wer'e all
in front of the tv again
its much more freindly today
which questions what i commented on yesterday


now i 'want people to think that i am spoiled
i do at times put the work in
yet neer seem to get direct applause

not saying that's what i want though
an office job would be nice
but;;-:as I have the whole world after me
I guess it's mental hospitals for life
unless the system takes the advice i've given it
to be so much more pragmatic
then I could probably have some form of normal life

At least one on my home planet.

Toucans worn out verily
By the haust in the horizon
Spical specialities leak out
For a dug at consumerisation
Frank the rafter
And John the son
And the pigeons which crowd about us
Their business not minded at either end
The city's walls run dry
And a cat lady sleeps
Illuminating the want of her children
Through making sure they play their part

Tuners or tongue rings
There's a gift for all
If you're willing to stop a minute
And listen to your call.

As trees are set alight
The coridoors confine us to chestnut oak
And Greek symbology becomes irrelevant
As infancy in a tizz.

Many languages
The that conundrum of autism
The ****** of a mother of a saint in
Teenage confidentiality
But also confidence.

The ma in a name given to the self
To get rid of the schizophrenia diagnosis
And supported housing imprisonment,
...Autisma
Ma meaning mother
And as an autistic still quite unsure
Of the meaning of this

But no longer a schizophrenic
There's always the hand that creeps in
To stigmatize the cuticles.

And so as far as what can be deemed fact
So far
Ma means 'more'
Against the alternative meaning of mother.

Amen god, and how I love you.
Hi C.I.A psychiatrists! Okay I'll put it in writing now
Not that I would say in my gut you didn't already know
But my family appear to me as having completely different identities everyday and i was unaware of this until I arrived here. I, frankly, dont see the point in sticking up for myself with them - because it I'm not <i>with</i> them emotionally. Or spiritually. And I'm not too sure what it is I don't understand, but it's a bit like understanding versus overcoming. and yeah, there's a short summary. Save me!

The map uncoils inintravenously
and whistleblowers the minors lap
of trigonometry into a burning forest plane.

such a waste of poetics!

but if they're robot Gods, and we're robots? Well then, well - surely we - we are, uh, the same anyway?

the drip drap of the rain velociously continued, like a pony nipping her head out of a stable
As the right handed, fraudulent farm girl hid behind a baby porcupine like stack of hay bails that looked like they could fall at any moment
She must have assumed the farmer had  a hearing impediment as she was mumbling quite loudly to herself
'and aliens are green' 'and people are purple' and 'the queen is beige.'

This was why she was hiding, as the factorious, bimble, self serving others were all aliens.
Any time she went someplace new she felt like there was a steaming kettle of atmosphere blended with ideas carrying and following her from step to step.

And she had no answers that but simple truths.

'hey kid, get outta here!'

Her voice had increased from mumbling to screaming the word 'that'.

- And she was gone.

The cratsmanship of the body
trecangles ebelie gordon(gun)
ph 10.10.8,140305-8...2014...5679857601...111
cerebling like a gatteux
with cake crumbling off the sodes
fixed to you r chest ike hard boiled agg shells
that get stuck on the egg
infilatrated I was once more, by the confucion/distinction
between God and power
and the suits thar they wear
to cover up all their other little atoms.


feasting you might call it
as the gawping , like degradation
was the sarangetti stands tall


What can I say to make my words sound more profound oh God help me with this for poo ever nanny.


the light in the dark room shone normally, not a blink from passers by, as one tends to look up at dark windows more than light ones in the evening; Then at night vice versa. I guess we all look for what we want. Whether that be in the form of justice, exercise, socializing, or even understanding.

There's no particular motive for wandering past and looking up at strangers windows. i wouldn't say it was even curiosity as it's sort of done out of habit.

I feel terribly for animals stuck in zoos. NO freedom, constant frustration. And the so called zooo staff, as psychic aliens, knowing exactly what they feel, and savouring every moment of their torture. If they're on tv you might even here them say 'sorry' but it'll be out of context, and they wont mean it.

I can hear one of my rapists voice outside my door, there's not much choice I have in my attitude towards him, because all of the human information has been drowned out of me in an alien way. hello back to you you cheating ****.

Anarchism rights the forces of terantualism
leaking herefty, like a trapped boat

the sociality is dumb dumb crap space


and thats why we're all waiting

its also the reason for anarchism

Poonanny cosmos

Delusion digs deep

As the brambles caught the address
The language was adjacent to an epiphany

Running towards the fountain of words
I thought about wanking, truth and mockery

If we were gonna take them down we were gonna do it with a smile
Or not at all

The hues of the TV screen were three dimensional,
Unlike my surroundings
Which just made my other experiences more emphatic

Punk rock came on the stereo
And suddenly my empathy was cool

So I had to skip it.

No music then as I only had the free version of Spotify.


All words lead to the heart, and are a compass for recalculating what's gone elsewhere or to your head.

It's only an intellectual though that would use them to try and discern the difference between the two.

Acidivism is a way of treating ******* disillusionment with some form of *******

The craze will die down

But I've never been exposed to the real world, not as history would define it anyway.

Because my life was just me shouting that, learning how to do it more accurately all of the time and reshaping the world hence in miraculous ways. Except my real voice historically won't be heard.
For they have full control and won't let the truth get out. Because it means their death. And if our lives are this controlled and you would understand how they are if my voice was heard for real then they deserve to die.

Poonanny cosmos.

An opportunity tunes into
You
If you relay information intuitively
And go with the the flow

Indecision will be common
But as long as you
Listen to your conscience
Occasionally

Then the rivers of
Fortune will flow.

My heart is like a cabbage
all soggy and curved
with some remaining sorry crunchy bits.

when someone kisses me, i fight them
in a bops left caramel escape

and if someone tries to hold me for too long
I stop liking that person

so I guess I can be forgiven for choosing drugs over serious relationships.

An edge runcorned by the world of spice
Justice taken to the streets
Amicability forsworn aimlessly
So with no hope of succeeding
Ah, then the ******* touch eh?

Well maybe someone will testify against you system
When they find their belief.

Poonanny dad. Poonanny mum. Poonanny Georgia. Poonanny Christopher. Poonanny gods. Poonanny stranger things the Netflix series. Poonanny humanity. Poonanny.

a group of bakers
lest they go down the ***** wonka shoot
may argue that , the fairest... of all bread<i>winners/i> is
can we be complacent in order of her/his/them/they/theirs place.

i, however, discard the notion of ownership all together and tell them politely that they've invented their own myths and they're coming true.
in WHICH CASE...THEY ARE, AT RISK, YES.

When the waterfall crashes
there'll be no more nappies
factually there's a catacomb of undescribed
indescrepancies
alot of jolting, perifery and lung alax


and apart from the toy towers
dread barges in, ingidly
to the georgia of Charleston
setting adrift the down syndrome of set downs upon maintenance ponds

elsewhere.patterns disappear.

Amen Ravi.

wern warts **** den ova there!!!!! hbcdwiqy rfffffffffff vggggggggu nceiby -;- cbdiq ceq dfghj back to normal then thaaaaaaaat the ginormous of monsters cant eat love, but even killers can defeat the cc.i.a if they dont get on board with my bulletproof weapon resistant stalker resistant love. AMEN POONARNY UNIVERSE,

can you not discern between a schizophrenic and reality....?

It's so difficult not to be sentimental when you're writing about something you know ittle about, but itf you cam grab the idea, in this caseloyalty to a cause yet the cause is unclear, and in this case also the cause conflicts with loyalty to a family. you can start as I just have. now lets not get bulding any literary coffins yet because, with the unknown, there's always a chance of a scientific or creative or physical spark. my fingers are still typing, that's the fuel and what's unknown so far in this story. no,, we musn't forget the story line is my cause. The simple answer, is we were to go back to basics, remember all the most insignificant moments of my life, and admit to the reason why i haven't achieved much, except for disillusionment - is because my cause is to take the ****.

But i know one thing, there should be a law dictating seriousness outdoes itself everytime and is therefore to be suspected. Like, the truth behind a masked ball is really just reality tv. And the yellow stones that come out in some mans *** are no longer alien because I just wrote about it in a pleasant  way. So good things can come from the unknown then.

Once I was parading down Oxford street and all my plans were coming into fruition, but it was still like, as if, the lights there were hiding something. Sometimes I think, it's make believe, society, that it's all dressed up in pale moon like glory, where it's eclipse is the click of a camera, it's circumspection is the way only aliens (or nerds) know about the true identity about its status and the stars engagement with it.

The way the moon hides behind symbol sounding clouds makes me question myself. They seem always to be antagonising each other, and yet so many myths, scientific theories and even reality tv shows have been constructed about the moon... it could easily be misconstrued as a political pawn, used to create padding around the prowess of many a great mind, keep the soldiers out the way who wont snitch, (not because they're kept out of the way but the other way around) steady out the different and various dimensions the population is living in to throw everything else away.

My life has been half kisses, aggressive pity aimed at any one who interacted with the plasmic moving force inside of me, maltreatment, blessings of attention in tough times, having quirky mannerisms, dreaming, arguing, healing, drug dealing, drug taking, smooth sailing, and an unnatural acceptance of change.

I suppose all these things, you would think would come with an acceptance of change but it's actually a dissociative disorder specified dissociative 'fugue'.Where you make an effort to start new lives all the time. So although when I choose to start afresh, that's technically change, I don't like change I have no control over. Partly because it could stop me investing in another new life I want to make for myself in the future.


I've thought about becoming a mother a normal amount really. but there's noone I really want to have them with. Pottery classes and sage are two tear some, lonely examples based on my instincts about what parenthood would be like for me... pragmatically boring for me on a pragmatic level and an excellent form of spiritual wellbeing that could possibly be selfish because my forever non existent child my not like sage.
and i liked pottery as a child,, and sage as an adult, anyway.

In the midst of the ashes, there was a past which occupied a displayo of germatic sattelites,

evergreen, they premptied the revealment of gersau meladiliy.
from their cosmotic discompot encumebnt predominance.

***** upon ***** they drove without dread to the tip of grusome  degradation.

i don't remember the rest of the poem

They say you should reach out for help
but what if when you tell others
they become unreachable?

In the mysteries of supermarkets
where it's not clear
exactly where certain things are

one turns to the more
sophisticated
either asking for assistance

Or simply visiting a library instead.

The descent was nothing but a dent then
interrupted by the escalators that function
so wildly

as relatives that don't look like relatives
amble on by.

a world of cattle, pigs, lamb, sheep
rattling along
they can feel the lonliness in their bones at those
vegetarians -
but cheese and milk and yoghurt just rains hate upon us all
a friendly battle waged on, ironically perhaps, with the aid of drugs
non synthetic in comparison with meat
galloping horses get shot in the wild
harbouring their remedies for their fellow farm animal cause
as for the vegans
theyre all crazies.

'vertisments force us to underwhelm
the diagnosis
that pertrevies la honourisms
of a steak
stuck in the cows belly

i've had aan idea
ad it doesn't involve people
paciing to and fro like pupateers
hogging the lmelight (or the funds)
no questioning of this idea
or any of my others

for they are applicable to the first paragraph
of this poem
which clearly states a level of genius AND cultural awareness if not spirituality that cannot be denied.

Per se.

Rock 'n' roll isn't just about the juice it's about the contempt, the either/or goat herding inhibition that sears through the stratosphere (along electrical cables of the brain) and then is forgotten by it's implicator.

So what does the implicator intend to imply?

That she has no free will. That momentum is fun. That identity is transmutable if seen in such light as delusion.

So what does delusion of the implicator imply?


Oh it's their entire world. it's just noone can accept it, except for the people not accepting it, them even having a really psychic intricate way of thinking.

So maybe these implicators are just considered to have no imagination?

Well I understand, but then there's empathy isn't there, and the system is hardly set up to inspire imagination anyway. So that's questionable.

What of questions and the implicator?


Can you ask questions without free will?


Well, yeah, what else?

And that's where the whole corruption scheme begins to be answered.
It's hashtagthaaaaat!(aaat)!

When you come
to the end
of the road

there's always a frustration
that whimpers stoically
about refreshment

blazing with it's *****
Of entirety
like a telephone off the hook

a shutdown system
where status doesn't matter

******* not included
In treasury treasts of treasonic trests.
Choose they say choose but we can't identify a squeeze of moral out of you
Wo we assume you're retards who think we have to ***** in a coffin to die.
Chess mate! Chess mate! The loonatics are running the zoo again. While my therapist warbles her goodbyes and hellos with just one minute in between. I grab her rust in a desperate act to counteract the loneliness. Just to confirm I'm in the right track for securing my mental health and also charm. As we are all being filmed. *****. Poonanny Lord God Jesus. Love from Amy stares.

Boring entitlement to make art,
hijacks creativity
in a funeral car
the procession plays trumpets
a soul stirs
but it's too late

So that's another fact getting high makes me realize, they're inside my brain in every way there is too. A fact to be swept under the carpet. Thaaat.

Dear God, sometimes subtlety can be a problem,.because it allows for all.kinds of nooks and crannies to be exploited. But then with freedom it can just flow of your hand and on the streets you haven't got to worry about labeling yourself. Or neither something like when freedom is suddenly retracted

The music sounded
like a chorus of anti Christmas tunes

Boggling the squashed fly
On the window sill
From an instant of thrill
To ironic rot

But one cannot be racist
Against flies
For the make food
An analysis
Which people
Would hate coming from a fly

Along with a synopsis
Of culture.


But there's no need to be racist to
A fly

They're actually very emotionally sensitive
As in, you can tell they have autism
In the way that they stim with their legs

Or arms rather
If you're not being racist to the fly

A little truth, if you don't mind...

An exceptional reason for distraction is garbage in any form
A truth then,
While the effigies sleep foregone notes knaw at pedigree particulars like ascendancy to a quack.
Too many gaps.

But they're not in my mind, they're in the matrix.
Maybe I created them? But nah, I wanna loose the game... It's ******* *******, doubt it even exists.

So poetry is meant to be seen, and it works that way, as an art piece

But when it's inherently dutiful, it can't at the same time not take on the form of art in some way.

The essence of vessel poetry is that it is maudlin, quaint, robotic, ironic, too susceptible to literary criticism, defiled by social criticism icism, hand made by ether, quarked upon, stolen, has the breath taken out of it, edited, and investigated. Also farquaimed, easy peasy to unbutton, but difficult to be in sync with, frustration echoes from it that it's not understood in sync, has frostbite, doesn't belong on this planet, casts aspersions on the second eye, wears you down, is like house ware, is too obsessed with sound,p thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat last a especially! I had to think of the word one trillion or rather number to get that last a put which defies the patterns k was making previously or my own autonomy but if autonomy is a pattern that's what I don't like about my poems. Even though they're y seem eleqouent or whatever technically they're all failures. Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaonetrillion. (The last one trillion is a that) Writing done. May the judge ******* and stop being corrupt. At least get rid of Theresa I mean she can't make it as a lawyer can she? Haha human spies. Say hi to the devil for me.....😭

So anarchism whets the boat yeah,    then serdjerney cflats its unsone patterns  further undone by layers of speech, so the boat trespasses upon the heftery gaurding the gobby with goonfile, attackiing with blocking????????????????????? thaaaaaaaaaat)(at)

All heartbreak is a bit pretentious
it irks, and facilitates distance
from it's objects of devotion
it is effort tripled
because you're starting
   to loose grip
on the fact
that effort was more
once or twice

It's all part of a set up
and I'm doing a terrible job at being sane
around it.

Sanity is much more obituary
it keeps it's own nails clean
and denies any form of truth.
Stereotypical sanity anyway

how can we hope to become when time does not stand still?
When we are left not just out of the history books, but even the society we hate.

So many times I've slept with a man and wondered why he handed me money. I realize at this moment, although it will be viewed stereotypically; just by virtue of it being my realisation; is that those weren't nice men, pretending to care about me. The proof is all around us. they did it so they could toy with my mind, they do it to make me do explicitly ****** things in my own room in hospital, that I wouldn't usually do. And, something (I was completely oblivious to at the time, (and am still oblivious to when not doped on ritalin clozapine and diazepam), Furthermore there are those involved in order to be a stop gap for the numbering system of human beings. Because if there's no change n the circumstances of slavery - it continues out and evenly, becoming an understandable reality. Which is when - basically - business goes down for these men, and they loose interest. and I should add become more sadistic.

So how do we call them out on it - when they're the ones in charge - ? we be ourselves, degrade ourselves, love those who love you and pray earnestly every day.




Amen humanity...Amen Lord!

As a writer you are supposed to look at a computer keyboard and feel inspired. there's a piece of writing in me waiting to burst out today but there's too much manipulation against my creative instincts going on. Amen God.

Listening is like an acronym
When people are listening in
Do thoughts flow anyway?
What is schizophrenia?
Where do the loose ends come in?

Is an exception to the foreign a cradle?
Or a rule?

Amen.

Malnourishment also known as the eaten jaw
by iron bar and fans
      that crowd around
and get    him    

   pushed,
further into demand -

as they do this
they think of little old ladies
who
to
keep their lives
they'd keep safe

but in outer space
there's
no
worthwhile currency
or a dangerous arrogance

i am an object in time and space
(another word for the place is the matrix)
j u s t
some
     where else
where you continually spin out and they want you to totally break down

But they've always rubbed it in our faces
for the equals of us; more ignorance, more oblivious
so much of it subliminally though
that by fighting the system froma baby (Yes I'm christ) i promise you'll become *******.

Well, it's like the AC/DC song goes isn't it?
'It's a lie...and that's the truth.'...

I've always trusted my instincts and that has never been for fun.

but if someone came up to me one day and said, this is your mental prison, this is your soul death, this is your dawdry ******* and at other times **** body then they before i could realise they had a gun even shot me

Well, it depends on who did it and why.
penalised by the justice system mainly
a race track which we all aspire to trundle round a race trac now the sympathy for our kind has gone
and there's just something about cars that always creates discrepancies between perception and technique - which you woud only ever think of in truth as same other, what I consider to be dangerous forms of transport)
but you're long gone mentally
as soon it's been sorted out
your cash flow, direct debit, benefits, council tax housing and all of that.
i always try to grab their attention when coming somewhere new
and even if naivety and friendliness didn't so vindictively differ
am i the one loosing? for trust and counting dollars?

So anarchism whets the boat yeah,    then serdjerney cflats its unsone patterns  further undone by layers of speech, so the boat trespasses upon the heftery gaurding the gobby with goonfile, attackiing with blocking?????????????????????

Floating respendently
Looking for the right angle
Masochism melts as it sneezes in the moody growler
Of non concentric brawl

A beware of infinitude
Not taken seriously by a pint glass
Scornful when normally distant look upon her
Imposter case
Thatatat.
Not a case of imposter syndrome.

The send offs were a group of people who hounded you. Their sweat was like a normal man's, but really it was there because it upset other people and they didn't give a ****. It was easy to be poetic about their patterns (as you wasted away in a false world). But the realistic depths of their evil were either or unexplainable or unknown by other people.

You had a better shot at pinning them down with positive strategy, even love than anything else. That is, before you cull them.

And yes, evil police, culling is different to ******. So give me the **** back my freedom.
Amen. Poonanny. Daisies. Love and light.

Tooth seems to be  a popular word in poetry
like there was someone called ruth who was a goddess
like some in ethnic tribes,
roofers build tipis
like roofies can make the heat blunder
It's usually just there to represent the word root though.
Ah, I see.

As they perpetually spawn inside us
i suppose the music is a byside
a well crafted distraction, that keeps those reaching out for autonomy
to soon be tricked by and settle for
a balance isn't made of hidden control, and resistance
it;s made of in our face rock 'm' roll lets do damage to these controllers who hide. Amen God.