I am a woman
Dyed blond
Peer pressure I guess
Nice *****
I don't conform
Not because I'm informed
I'm padded room crazy
A wild Daisy
My hair represent the free spirit
Then I cut it off in rebellion
I will light you on fire
You never were a desire
Leave me, I wont be crying
You always be wondering
I'm that insane chick that keeps you staring

There,s  not  many  upsets
in  the  FA  cup  these  days.

Because  the  playing  area,s  
are  in  prime  condition.

In  the  old  days  they  played
on  mud  bath,s  which  were
a  great  leveler  in  skill.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Do you ask yourself sometimes?
What it is and what will be?
Who we are
Trains may arrive in stations
The hands on the clock
Our fingers
But our hands have never been pure
Who we are

How it feels
To feel
How it feels to feel just the way you do

Don't you want love and silver and gold?
What is truth and how we seek
Who we are
Clocks always strike the minute
But our hands toil with the devils work
Our faces never stay the same
Marching forward
Who we are

And how it feels
To feel
For you
Time doesn't give a reason

"Don't drink your calories—
unless you want to get drunk."

Her eyes trembled with tears

Weakness stretches out,
not searching strength—
for another soul to be
weak with

A heavy languor spilled into the room
all she can think about
is the patterned ceiling,
which was a book for her to read
while entwined in damp blue sheets

Mystically shelled
snails in slime
embrace

And in vast space
galaxies spin
and dance the
fractal same

(On flat dead
man stone
lovers tongue
entwined play
the same nocturnal game)