Black dog Jan 2018
I spend all my hours crying and crouching in dark despair, consumed by self-pity; neither living nor dead, my mind poisoned by grief, ruined, undone, bitter and broken; my love wrenched from me.
My dream smashed into a billion pieces.
I'm finally ready to embrace the black dog with all its teeth and fury, fearless, numb, exhausted, done.
I'll gladly drink down the bitter pills to end this state of loss; to spread my flesh, to let the cold waters draw me down; with pockets full of stones, anything to stop this intolerable feeling!
I am nothing but empty!,
I’m sick and tired and at the end!
And for those that may remember just how retched a soul I had become; I pray and pray; that I am soon completely forgotten.

Her outward appearance is everything, though inwardly self-conscious.

She thrives on compliancy and  agreeability, any challenge; any question is a criticism! and she will take it to heart!

Each and every word has specific meaning, so don't use them loosely, for every one will be accounted for!

There will be less pleasure in words, you will not dare to speak, and then you will begin to lie!

You will feel the need to prove your love, but you will not be worthy! and this is the price you must pay!

Lured to lose your head and *** to a sticky end, then abandoned as dead wood, or as a bad lot!

"Vanity It’s simply breath!”
Our earthly life with its simple pleasures,
May offer up some token treasures,
Lipstick, fever red, and not to subtly applied,
Hides the nature of your smile,
Simple wisdom eludes vanity,
Though both the wise and foolish end in death.
So why worry ?
Just be you!
Vanity

Beware for the hooks that reel in small colourful delicate fish, are destined to cast them back out to sea; in the hope of attracting something a little more palatable.
.
.
.
Relationship suddenly ended I'm instantly homeless, broken, abandoned, pennyless. ***?

'A slave to freedom'

We watched you sail; take to the sea in a rubber boat.
Take to troubled waters; and do your best to stay afloat.
So many lost souls, in the deep blue Aegean Sea.
The waters gently whisper, come and stay with me.

And as you slip below the waves; we wave goodbye;
It’s money verses conscience and so goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!
Then every eye watched you struggle to the shore,
We watched you knock, and knock, and knock, upon closed doors.

Another immigrant “a slave to freedom”
A nations money verses conscience; except on Sundays!
We may offer prays as an act of sympathetic generosity,
But won’t shoulder the burden like Simon!
So Back! Back! Let's not rock the boat!

From Alan Lomax to the commercial art and now the money machine.

At the turn of the century; when sound recording 1st became available to the masses, recording a song was an opportunity for folk to reach out; and tell the world something up front and personal.
It meant that people were able to put themselves on “The record” A way of leaving a permanent audio statement, an epitaph, an audio sound bite immortalising ~ life, mood, emotion captured and bottled for all eternity.
(A medium that conveyed messages from artists and storytellers of all kinds)

A recording was also a great addition to "The family album" something more tangible, a window to a real person, with a real life, a message and a point of view; a legacy, a blast from the past.
Few people expected sound prints to be re-designed, homogenised, formulated, copied, repackaged and that art and the message would be played over and over again by new artists in the form of "cover music" or that the style of the messages would become secularized, seperated into distinctive groups, or constrained by an elite clique or commercial genre.
Labelling and streamlining art & music mostly benefits the commercial art & music industry; and no longer the artists and creators.

I've no problem with good business, or the multi-billion pound industrys that have gained commercial success.

However the process of mass homogenisation, product synthesis, marketing, streamlining and then packaging fashion, sound and synthetic culture to sell a product, leaves very little room for creative people to just be creative.

A medium originally open to many for self expression, a historical record, an archive, a voice, a personal message;
Is now just a vehicle for advertising and perpetuating a genre of nonsense, so much so that there is now more white noise immortalised than messages.

To re-cap ~ I Think that creativity and expressionism; like story telling conveys moods and messages from the present and past!
Artists and musicians should have the opportunity to create and produce more information than they copy; thus creating a richer more colourful tapestry, whilst not devaluing the message of their predecessors!

Purcy Flaherty.