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160 · Apr 2022
Whimsical
I could smile for a mile
Although it wouldst take me a while
To do it with style
Wouldst only beguile
So i'll lock it away, in my happy file

I could grin with a gin
Agin', and agin', and agin'
But i doubt, i'd remain thin
As i joined Hogarth, at an inn
Ice, and a slice, as we upped our chin

Or wander fair, in the fresh air
As the breezes cools, my hot derriere
And be ever so debonair
With a certain amount of rustic flair
But would i? could i? actually dare?

I could bare my soul, or my chest
Not quite sure, what is best
As i feel the sea, upon my breast
But as you may of guessed
All this is written, mostly in jest......

by Jemia
Last night
My dreams
Were full of
Worsening pandemics
Dramatic climate change
And nuclear war!
Induced by alcohol
And falling asleep
With the radio on!
And i have awoken
With a head that is sore
And shell-shocked from my dreams
Personally
If i have a nightmare
I prefer more traditional ones
Like being naked in public
And/or
Being chased
By a cannabalistic randy headless swan!
But no swan-upping for me
As i stick to my pen
Whilst it bleeds
Ink on paper
Words forming
Slightly illegible
Like a drunken spider
Has crawled across
The pages of my scrawls

by Jemia
159 · Nov 2021
Brainwave
Here i am
Dwelling
Within
My dwelling
A myriad of thoughts
I'm no longer telling
In position
Of an
Imposition
A tsunami of thoughts
Floods my brain
I know not
Where they come from
Only that they
Come again
And again
And again
Like a tidal wave
Unrelenting
Flooding
As i tiptoe
Into the puddles
Of my
Mind

by Jemia
158 · Aug 2021
A Tree Called Bertha
I knew there was another 'other' world
But i couldn't quite work out
How to venture into it
Until early one morning
Just as the sun was shining
Having awoken from a dream
I found my small collection
Of glass marbles
I knew which two i needed
Picked them both up
And holding one between
Each index finger, and thumb
Held them close to my eyes
Then explored the patterns within
I imagined myself within
The whirls, and twirls
And found myself in Victorian London
This was to random, so i tried again
And arrived at my own birth
Watching in amazement
As i came kicking, and screaming into life
With the cord wrapped around my neck
Like a hangmans noose
As the midwife disentangled me
From the cord that had kept me alive
Within my womb with a view
That was now trying to strangle me
I glanced at the marbles again
This time
I arrived at my own funeral
I could see my name etched into stone
And date of birth
But not date of departure
As thankfully
A mourners cloak
Was billowing in the wind
Obscuring my view
I hastily looked into the marbles a third time
Entering this time
Into a strange surreal world
Full of fairy folk frollicking
Pixies, and pretty princesses posing
As strange, curious music
Was floating on the breeze
Accompanied by a symphony of singing trees
I was so enthralled by these visions
That i wasn't in the least bit upset
That during these events
I realised
That i had completely lost
My marbles!
So was destined to remain
In this strange, and curious world
As i got into a deeply interesting
And profoundly intriguing conversation
With a tree called Bertha

by Jemia
158 · Jan 2022
THE NAPPY SONG
Ding-a-****
Sing-a-little song
Dinga-dinga-dinga-**** dell
Ding-a-****
OOOOH what a pong
I think your nappies got a smell

by Jemia
(written for my 1 year old, as I was changing her *****- yes, I was inspired by poooetry!)
158 · Aug 2022
Mad At The Moon
Me, and the moon
Have a kind of
On, off relationship
Which really drives me mad
One Day
When the moon's not looking
I'll catch it
When it least expects
In the palms of my hairy hands
Then *****
My blackened candles
Don my dark robes
Paint a twisted smile
Upon my fair face
Run outside my ramshackle home
And simply
Howl at it
"i used to be a werewolf
But i'm alright NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!"

by Jemia
156 · Mar 2022
Daze Of The Weak! :)
on behalf of equal rights for nights, i would like to put the case forward that the days of the week, should be split in half aka divided into nights ie, monday+monnight, tuesday+tuesnight. i do realise, that in the process, i am excluding dawn, and twilight, which could be included at a later date, and for now could be represented simply as a + ie mon+, but this could cause some confusion, as it would be unclear as to whether it was mondawn, or montwilight, also, depending on what time of year it is, night will obviously be longer than day, and vis versa,and dawn, and twilight, are both generally dramatically shorter, but surely deserve equal recognition? a simple solution, is to exclude all definition of day night dawn twilight, and thus have the week defined as mon tues wed thurs fri sat sun, apart from anything else, involves a lot less typing. now what about months, do we have lunar months of 28 days? and thus 13 months per year, or............me go now, having a bad hair afternoon/evening, mid morning, elevenses etc etc

by Jemia
156 · Mar 2022
Changes
I did the ***, drugs, and rock and roll thing
But it didn't actually, teach me anything
Back then, there was no internet to investigate
No books in libraries, about my kind of state
So i adopted, the then hippie style fashion
To avoid any kind, of trans bashing
It allowed me, to grow my hair long
So i was more in tune, with my kind of song
With an afghan coat, and cheesecloth shirt
Petula oil, hippy beads, but never a skirt
At the age of fifteen, i left my home
After fourteen schools, i was destined to roam
So off i ventured, into the big wide world
Waiting to see, how my life would be unfurled
After much wandering, and travelling around
Aged 27, i momentarily landed, on a different ground
I got married, then within a year, divorced
My life was still veering, way of course
Yet within five years, to subdue my fears
I met my second wife, together for 23 years
Yet still i had a secret, which i kept at bay
That i knew i was a woman, in almost every way
I knew things were ending, and life felt weird
When my wife, got me to cut my hair, and to grow a beard
I understood why, she just wanted to man me up
As i supped in the misery, like a dying buttercup
Me, and my daughter, then moved down here
Much stress was happening, i couldn't allay my fears
After two years, my daughter to her mother went back
Then returned two years later, in time for my heart attack
During those four years in total, much had occurred
Finding my mother dead, made redundant, it became absurd
I'd already seen my GP, to talk about my gender
And had gone to London several times, to put in my tender
But because of my heart, my GRS was put on hold
And thought back then, it was unlikely i'd achieve my goal
Yet 22 months, and two heart surgeries later
I was as ready, as a toothless alligator
On the 30th May 2019, i had my gender reassignment surgery
I cannot lie, it was painful, screamingly at first, no purgery
I told friends, it was done in Wimbledon, as i had some doubt
That i'd return as a Womble, or a tennis player with gout?
But all had gone as expected, and i recovered well
My butterfly wings had grown, as i flew out of my secret hell
Never imagining, that just three years on
Telling people a brief history of my life, what could possibly go wrong?
I have many friends, that are lgbtq+, without debate
But many of my friends are also straight
All my change, was thanks to the NHS
I had told them my truths, without any redress
So my message to anyone, whatever their age
Don't rush into this, do it stage by stage
Whatever you do, be you bold, or shy
You will gain you wings and be a beautiful butterfly
Find a good GP, that is helpful, and kind
That doesn't treat you, like you're out of your mind
That the whole process, from beginning to end
Is worth it, as you become your own best friend

by Jemia
155 · Jul 2021
Fairy Socks
Ive just observed
Shiny glitter in my socks
Perhaps it is fairy dust
Maybe?
I could leap from my window
Or balcony
And flap my arms
To see
Then explain my experiment
At accident, and emergency
I think for now
I'll assume
They are not socks
With fairy dust
Although i do possess
A liquid
Made by fairies
I know this
As it says so on the bottle
Should'st i drink some?
Or wash up
Some old crocks
Along with the fairy dust
Within my socks?
I once knew a tooth fairy
Her name was Nasha
But that's another tale
I have to depart now
As ive been summoned
By a quaint fairy bell

by Jemia
155 · May 2022
A Basket Full Of Holes
I had put all my hopes, and dreams
Into a basket full of holes, so it seems
Fallen eggshells, lay scattered
As dreams were soon shattered

I patched the basket up, ready for its quest
Filled it with eggs, from a myriad of nests
And avoided stepping, onto broken eggshells
As i  moved forward, dancing over bluebells

I walked amongst the beautiful trees
My hair flowing gently, in a warming breeze
as a susseration, of stirring leaves
Embraced my heart, that no longer grieves

The sun, knowingly shone
Sensing my emotions, of things, now gone
As a myriad trees, gave me a warming embrace
They lifted my soul, towards an ethereal place

As a soft murmuring, of wind-swept flowers
A sweetening of time, amidst sweet bowers
A natural tapestry, of butterfly wings
with beautiful birdsong, and fluttering wings

by Jemia
154 · Sep 2021
A Farewell To Happy Horatio
My Pixie friend
Was a rather plump little chap
Also had a bald patch
Which he hid beneath his cap

He was fluent in many languages
And could tell a good tale, or two
About his curious life in fairyland
And of his sojourn in London zoo

He road on the backs of Robins
As he had no wings to fly
Had had many a chat with fairies
As he gazed at the moon, up high

His name was Happy Horatio
He liked smiling like a clown
And told jokes, and played pranks
I never saw him frown

He loved to dance to music
And would dance the night away
Whilst quaffing mead aplenty
In the magical land of Fae

One day i asked Horatio
Where did his life begin
He said he remembers nothing
Other than once he was rather thin

But then he developed an appetite
For trifle, and chocolate sauce
Followed by strawberry jam, and spongecake
But got to heavy for his horse

I was sure he was much to small
To ride on a horses back
He told me it was a Shetland Pony
And that he simply had the knack

As he was able to talk in horse tongue
And asked it which way to go
His horse was a very good friend
But puzzled as it never seemed to grow

He then packed up his silken bags
Then slowly, and silently mooched around
"Ive got to now leave", said he
"Ive been summoned back to the underground"

So no more yackety yack
He smiled as he bid me farewell
"I'm returning to the land of Fae"
"Where i live in a dingly dell"

by Jemia
153 · Nov 2022
All Dressed Up
Words fall
Like Autumn leaves
The ink of inspiration
Drips from my pen
That teases, tantalises, and tussles
My windswept imagination
As quickly
As a bird wink
Free, wanton, and wanting
To flood the page
With imagery
Suffice
T o sacrifice
To thrill the quill
To once again
Fly
Until the ink runs dry
As words dissipate
In thought
All dressed up
And nowhere to flow

by Jemia
152 · Aug 2021
Truth
Time is but a borrowed thing
A debt i can ill afford
I pay it with my inken quill
Then slay it with my sword

But my sword is wholly double-edged
My quill has now run dry
My debts are deep, and dangerous
Yet i still have time to cry

As i now weep my timeless tears
Over my long, and wasted youth
Such dreams, and fancies i once possessed
Yet i owe know debt to truth

by Jemia
152 · Sep 2022
Caged Canaries
Eyes through the window
Glance
Staring
At the moist night air
Friday night
As heads, and hearts
Wander, and wonder
As dreams
Drift
And lift
As hopes
Are squandered
On a flickering chance
Of romance
Until reality
Squeezes in
Through the back door
Of false hope
As caged canaries
Whistle, and sing
Hoping to escape
As their wings flutter
Like bread, and butter
Remain stale
And obsolete
As we all bleat
Like lambs to the slaughter
As woollen hearts
Are sheared

by Jemia
152 · Sep 2022
Written In Red
Red ink
Like blood
Leaks
Onto ****** white paper
Soulless, empty
Wordless
The sanctity of the heart
Lies hollow
Shallow echoes
Pained
Rain falls
Clouds
Dark, and dank
Lightning flickers
Like tree roots
Reaches out
Across the darkening sky
Rivers run deep
Then dry
And i wonder
As i wander
Across the plains
Of the surreal
Remembering
That i still feel
The emotions
Of my beating heart
But feel as lost
As a butterfly
Who has lost its wings
As i remain stranded
And vulnerable

by Jemia
151 · Mar 2022
A Killing Of The Matrix
Cool sunshine, over an icy disguise
As a pastel blue, fills cloudless skies
But soon a wind, brought about a change
As a quiet landscape, turned to strange

A lone idling tree, hung naked upon a hill
As its emerald life, shuddered in the chill
The deep rustic hues, now fading colours
Silver-grey skies, with sickening pallors

Slowly awakening, after the sun set
As the skies turned dark, with the night now met
A gradual opening, of bloodshot eyes
Windows to a soul, that slowly dies

Red hot tears, streaked down her face
Her children had been, her only disgrace
Their Obsidian hearts, hard, and cold
The reason why, she would never grow old

From the time, that she first gave birth
Was the first nail in the coffin, of mother Earth
Humanity had poisoned, the three main trinities
Of the earth, the skies, and the seas, for infinity

by Jemia
151 · Feb 2022
Just Gassing!
Seems like Putin
Has put in
Got everyone
Over a barrel
There is
No fuel
Like
An old fuel.......

by Jemia
151 · Apr 2022
Ma Chérie!
Ma Chérie!

I somehow resisted
Purchasing Camembert
As she tried to ****** me
Whilst i was standing there

Her wit, and charm
And divine perfume
Enchanted me so
There was little to assume

I envisaged her melting
Succulently onto my tongue
Which was by now
Hanging out long

She was oh so beautiful
And such a seductive queen
Yet as i walked on by
I could almost hear her scream

"Take me home
Ma cherie"
And delight in the taste
"Of Camembert, not Brie!"

That moment
Haunts me still
But this coming Thursday
Bring her home, i will!!!

by Jemia
150 · Sep 2022
Over A Barrel
Barrels
And swinging seats
Softly cushioned
Benches, and lost feet
Candlelit romances
Flickering fluidity
Waxing moons
Waning hopes
Dripping molten candles
Lost wicks
Empty souls
Aromas of pizza
Floating
Like the flickering winds
Of an obscure dialect
Humanity sits
Lurking with intent
In a vacant bar

by Jemia
149 · Sep 2022
Furious!
Little Middle Weedmead
Somewhere, in the shire of Bodelbean
A young fairy princess was born
From the belly, of the wicked queen

She named her daughter Grimace
To show her spiteful ways
The wicked queen was horrid
Was also a witch, on certain days!

She would cackle quite madly
And turn children into frogs
Whilst the parents protested angrily
She turned them into dogs

Yet one day a week on Saturdays
She became quite pleasant to know
And was even nice to her daughter
By Sunday, this niceness would go!

Yet Grimace, her faithful daughter
Had a secret of her own
Late on Saturday evening
She'd sit upon her mother's throne

She'd issue ghastly orders
For hopping frogs legs on toast
(My favourite, yum!)
Or bats ear, and rhubarb pie
Then fly away to the coast

She'd sit astride her broomstick
And cackled like her mum, wah, wah, wah wah wum!
She'd pockle her tongue out rudely
And kicked strangers up the ***!

But at the stroke of midnight
On the face of the old grandmother clock
Time moved over to Sunday morning
And Grimace, grimaced, like a sock

Anyway, Grimace got older
As older she grew
And before she could define it
She was suddenly 22!

Her wicked witchy mother queen
Had grown a particularly long nose
And it was oft thought
She could probably pick it with her toes!
EW!

And just like that
The Witchy Wicked Mother Queen
Was never ever heard
And never, ever seen
(Again!)

Grimace, in time, was crowned queen
She was most splendiferous
And mostly normal
That's ignoring Saturdays!

by Jemia
149 · Jun 2020
Why The Cat, Sat On The Mat
Why did the cat, sit on the mat?
What was its purpose
We don't know if it was a queen or a tom cat
Was the mat indoors, or out?
Was it waiting for a door to open?
To be (or not) let in or out?
Was it stopping to go into a deep  
psychoanalytical thought, or philosophy?
Or perhaps traverse parallel universes?
Or imagining what it would be like to be human?
Or a dog, or another cat?
Or maybe another 'owner' to visit
For extra food, or hugs?
Then to my surprise
The cat stood up
Looked me straight in the eye
Then spoke!
"For goodness sake! Can't a cat, simply sit on a mat?"
"For no other reason, than to sit?"
"All i did, was see this mat and thought, i'll sit on that!"
(Read my next excerpt, on my musings on cats:
'The Amazing Tales Of A Talking Philosophical Cat
That Sat On A Mat, titled "I Purr, Therefurr, I Siam!"
Today, i got attacked
By a snappy, yappy
Vicious, and malicious
Fighty, bitey
Small Piranha dog
An ankle biting
Non inviting
Four legged fiend
That tried to let me down
Its irresponsible owner
Made me frown
I felt a bit forlorn
But no blood was drawn
And i shall not grieve
At the small Piranhas little teeth
As it tried to savage
My right leg
Like a woodworm would, a wooden peg
With a pegleg
I wandered off
As i saw sawdust
Leak
From the Piranhas' owners brain
Not even an apology
From the inane

by Jemia
149 · Oct 2022
Finding Love
A gentle seduction
As fingers float
Seemingly
******
The keys
Softly caressing
The ivories
Sweet temptation
As the music
Floats along the still waters
Of my soul
Pirouetting fantasies
Floating
Across a myriad thoughts
The soft gentle tones
gentle, and delicate
The notes
Levitate
Hovering
As if caught
On the breezes
Like Autumn leaves
Skittish dreams
Chaotic
Yet beautiful
As tempting
As a tempestuous storm
As yet unmet
The wild wind blows
The ripples ripen
And sweet love
Is found

by Jemia
To Theoretically Conspire.......

Ive solved the mystery
Of what Q-Anon is
It is when
You are in
A queue
But nobody
Knows
Who the hell you are!
Time to return
To the garden
Of my mind
Grab a shovel
And theoretically
Flatten out
Some earth
Time to stick my brain
Into the washing machine
Again....

by Jemia
148 · Apr 2022
Dunblane
Dunblane

Such an evil, sick, and tormented soul
His twisted morals, had taken control
On March 13th, 1996, he went totally insane
Mercilessly destroyed innocence, in a town called Dunblane

Lost were 16 young children,and their teacher
Their registration was taken, by the local preacher
They now lay assembled, in graves of disdain
At the horror that occurred, that day in Dunblane

by Jemia

i still remember this, and have left this poem collecting dust for 26 years. but a friend recently visited Dunblane, and they are living with the light, and hope, that the fabulous Murray brothers have brought them with their tennis, who were both at that school on that day. x
The worst time
To be right
About something
Is when
You wish
You were
Wrong...
by Jemia
147 · Apr 2022
500
500
500 hundred men
Go off to war
They battled hard
But then no more

500 souls
Were all bled dry
Full of holes
No time to die

Of the 500
There was little left
Just skin, and bones
Their hearts bereft

by Jemia
146 · Aug 2021
Medicine Mead
well i went to the park,
for a lark,
and have to concede,
quaffed some beloved mead,
and briefly anaesthetised from pain,
will consider it again
and good company was to be had
of which i was glad
if not slightly mad
but glad to be mad
and will do it again
and remain
a girl insane
now drinking water
as i know i oughter
and glad of the relief
be it brief
Doctor, can you please prescribe me some mead?
by Jemia 🦋💕
146 · Dec 2021
A Silence
A Silence

I sensed before
Making my calls today
That they
Would have their own
Destiny of sadness
And disarray
One taken to hospital
This morning
Not without warning
And the next
And last call
Her husband had died (06-12-2021)
And had his funeral
Only yesterday (20-12-2021)
We talked for quite a while
And i think i made her smile
As we jested
At our mutual dislike
Of technology, and the like
A few other calls beforehand
That usually answered
Lay in an uneasy silence
Of forbidden Foreboding
During debrief, later
It was said
It's that time of year
Asked if i was okay
I said i think so
I'd had my own echoes
Of silent tears
Over many lonely long lost years

by Jemia
146 · Sep 2022
Planet Tree
The trees
Began waving at each other
Aided by a quickening breeze
Beneath the earthen ground
Hands were held
Connecting
Communicating
Without prejudice
Peaceful
Unbiased
Non-judgemental
Whether sapling
Or mother tree
Silver Birch, Oak, Yew Beech
Cherry Blossom, Apple, Pear, Plum
Weeping Willow, Walnut, Acacia
All revelled
In each others beauty
And individualism
No matter what creed
Or breed
One fine day
This wood wide web
Decide
To up their roots
And depart
Guided by the stars
Lift off
From planet Earth
To venture to pastures new
Simply to escape
The razor teeth
And those that used them

by Jemia
146 · Jan 2021
Writing A Wrong
Writing A Wrong
In my application
To qualify
For a free assessment
And Guidance
To my poetic writes
Or wrongs
I have to declare
My gender
And sexuality
As this will aide
And advance
My chances of qualifying
So i tick boxes
Little boxes
Built just the same
That reveal my legacy
Not my PC shame
That i am a transwoman
That i am a lesbian
That i am this
And i am that
Should i wear
A particular hat?
Personally
I'm just me
Being pigeon-holed
Confined to little
Claustrophobic tick boxes
That are meant
To conform
Or confirm
My identity
Which in reality
Gets lost
In a maelstrom
Of conformity
I am just me
The only difference
Is the way i now ***!
And the only
Bush on bush experience
I've so far had
Was when i peed
Behind a car
at a festival campsite
Under the twilight
Under the stars
Not realising
As i squatted in my innocence
That a bush beneath me
Was nettles!
There came no sighs
From between my thighs
But i was at least
Relieved!
by Jemia
145 · Dec 2021
The Mad Elf
The Mad Elf
Many years ago
In a land
Far, far away
Lived an elf
Who was secretly
Gay
Sometimes this made her
Happy
Sometimes this made her
Sad
But most of the time
She ate other elves
Because she was
Quite, quite
Mad
She ate them
For breakfast
She ate them
For lunch
And sometimes inbetween
She had an elvish brunch
She ate them for tea
With a side serving of brie
And also for dinner
But rarely after that
And they made her less thinner
Then one fine sunny
Snowy, rainy, dry, wet, day
She saw her reflection
In a rambling talkative brook
And realised
Upon a second look
That she was in fact
A troll

by Jemia
Not content with producing
Masses of a myriad of books
Or transmogrifying into biscuits
For the chocolate covered looks
One penguin has now gone punk
Scientists suggest a pigmentation quirk
But ive realised the truth
It found a tanning dye, and wondered if it would work
It had been washed up with plastic flotsam and stuff
Along with a floating marshmallow
The penguin thought, "nows my chance"
"Off turning myself a funky yellow"
The penguin now, has found their true you
"I think yellow, therefore i am, up yours Pingu"
by Jemia
145 · May 2022
GNATS
I found life modelling
As an easy choice to make
As easy
As my gender reassignment surgery
Both choices
Were mine to make
I did not choose
To find my mother dead
To have a heart attack
To be beaten to a pulp
On at least five occasions
One included two snooker ***** in a sock
Repeatedly beaten over the head
To be in a car crash at 70mph
To be repeatedly punished as a child
To go to fourteen different schools
T o be bullied at most of the
As a new kid
To live in constant fear of violence
To be so sensitive, but glad i was
Although at first
Felt it was a curse
But later realised it was my strength
I realised
And expected little more
That many people
Were like seagulls
Randomly ******* on you
But now
I'm learning to trust people again
I have met lots of butterflies
That float with you
As you glide along
In the breeze together
The angst
Still rears up sometimes
But it is an anagram of gnats
And sometimes
Like gnats
It bites

by Jemia
144 · Sep 2021
Wax
Wax
Sometimes, lyrical
Sometimes, just my ears
Sometimes, it's the moon
Sometimes just a candle
Bleeding molten tears

by Jemia
144 · Jan 2021
Seeking Tranquillity
Another shrouded Moon of despair
Both glowering, and glowing
As darkened, shadowed Harebells
Await the coming dawn
They flounce, and swoon
At a tender zephyr breeze
As if to awaken
Their moist innocence
Emitting gentle sprays of water
To the sleeping green grass
Growing at their stem
Drops of dew delicately drip down
Tinkling the Harebells
That pout, and kiss the naked air
As the nature of the day
Slowly awakens
Puffball eyes
Soon there are flutterings
As wings of insect life
Venture forth
To quaff the moistened pollen
Of the now invigorated beauty
I arrive upon this scene
Every day, like a ghost
I float, and hover around
This enchanted paradise
As a new pure tranquillity
Caresses my heart
As my eyes bleed tears
At the wonder of it all
I then awaken from a rare dream
by Jemia
143 · Nov 2021
Ventures Into Another Realm
It was raining cats
Under a mewling wind
So i entered a small wood
To seek shelter
I wandered of the main path
Venturing
Through the broad, and narrow trees
Eventually reaching
A small, but dark
Dangerous pool
I glanced inwards
It proffered no reflection
And no insects skated across
It's murky surface
Soon
It began to whirl
And from it's depths
Arose a curious bright, light
A glowing globe
hovered over the pool for a while
Then moved across
And was by my side
At the blink of an eye
I was mesmerised, and also frightened
It soon began to transform
Into the shape
Of a young woman
She had shiny, long flowing
Raven tresses
And eyes, of an emerald green
That glinted, and glimmered
As a small ray of sunshine
Scrambled through the heavy
Foliage, of the forest
Surrounding her look of seeming serenity
She was equal in height to me
So when she glanced into my eyes
It was as though, she was looking into my soul
She had a ponderous look upon her face
As if considering my fate
She wore no crown, or jewels
but had flowers in her hair
Soon other gleams of light appeared
And i assumed
That they would form into
Accompanying fairies
But i was wrong
As they took the form
Of small demons
At the same time
As, who i'd presumed was Titania
Queen of the fairies
Evolved
Her tresses curled
And her eyes turned a malignant red
She then told me her name
Hecate
And upon clicking her now long fingernails
Her demons
Dragged me into the whirling pool
And towards some kind of nightmare world
Where ghosts roamed around screaming
There were no life forms.
In the distance
Over the undulating fractured landscape
were a few dead trees
There gnarly limbs
Reaching out, to an unrelenting
Cold, and bitter sky
But i was not yet ready to die
Hecate cackled, indulging in my terror
I imagined this was hell, or somewhere similar
She was delighted to tell me
That she had merely taken me
into the future by sixty years
She then read me some verse
And that i was to make a choice

Slit my wrists
Or cut my throat
Stick my head in the oven
Or drown in a moat

Jump of a rooftop
Jump under a train
Take an overdose
Go insane

Blow my brains out
Suffocate my breath
So many choices
Resulting in death

I chose insanity
As i did not wish to die
I then started laughing
A maniacal kind of laugh
I then died in my head
My only company
Were the putrid dead
Hecate clicked her fingers again
And suddenly, i was beside the pool
I ran as fast as i could
To escape this bewitched wood
Guided by the moonlight
I soon reached the wet open
Relishing the rain, the beautiful rain

by Jemia
142 · Nov 2021
Eclair
A part-time job
In a delicatessens to rob
I was fourteen, fifteen
Somewhere inbetween
I was oft sent
Hell bent
To the walk in fridge
I, like a midge
Began to bite
With all my might
I did not share
The lovely chocolate eclairs
Like greased lightning
My consumption was frightening
The stock was soon amiss
And within a few days, i was rightly dismissed
Remembering a job, i'd nearly forgotten
Of chocolate eclairs, ill-gotten

by Jemia
142 · Nov 2021
An Ode To Camembert
Oh dearest
And most beloved
Camembert
Thou art created
By the gods, and goddesses
Of cheese
And shoulds't it so please
I woulds't love to indulge
In your **** runnyness
And seductively tempting aromas
Your perfume
So beguiles, and entices me
Thou art far superior
To the humble brie
Like a bumble bee
You add honey to my taste buds
Dearest, and most beloved Camembert
Woulds't thou marry me?
So we would thus be entwined
For all eternity
Your most humble, of humble admirers
You are the one
I most desirest

by Jemia x
Sometimes
I doth not know
My derriere
From my elbow
Hardly, forsooth
A funny bone
Doth ache so
Remains
A lesser beast
With such sciatic
Derriere pains
Oh!

by Jemia
142 · Dec 2022
Troth
" A thousand flowers could bloom"
From the magic (that stole the day)
That glistens, and shimmers
From within
Every beautiful rainbow
And the dreams
That linger
Of your beautiful presence
And your essence
That flows serenely
Is divene
So fine
So blossom, like a flower
My beautiful butterfly
Kiss the skies
Of dreams
And lay your wishes
And may your wishes
Come true

by Jemia
142 · Oct 2022
Anonymous Anemones
Tears of Aphrodite
Run in rivulets
Down soft porcelain cheeks
Into the blood
Of the dying Adonis
An inconceivable conception
Of a magical bloom
It's cups
Like gathering hands
Reaching out
To the golden sunshine
Then close
At the blink
Of an eye
Like a fan
As tears fall
From the dark
And moistening sky
Silver globules
Ricochet
Then scatter
Onto the beckoning
Dry earth
As anonymous anemones
Commence a rebirth
Like newborn stars

by Jemia
141 · May 2022
Butterfly Teardrops
Shimmering silver globules
Like painted teardrops
That leak
Onto her once silken wings
Fading echoes
Of fanfares
From a now distant past
Where she once glided along
On the soft zephyr breezes
Of a warm Summers day
Now she is caught
In tumultuous crosswinds
Floating haphazardly
Like a drunken wasp
Or a fallen Autumn leaf
Yet she smiles
At her halcyon days
Of sunshine
And the nectar of life's promises

by Jemia
141 · Jul 2021
The Hungry Hippo
I spent to much time
Of my life
In  de Nile
And eventiually
Got eaten
By de hippo!

by Jemia
140 · Apr 2022
THE SNOW KING
Her Royal Highness, her maiden now befriended
Ice-cold, at the Snow King's Ball attended
With iceberg emotions, cool and intact
Reclusive, and not one to over react
She was born of Royal Pleistocene descent
Cautious and cool, not one to repent
Ruth was her name, ruthless without shame
Eyes, ice-blue, her ice-fall tears were tame
With her maiden hench-woman, ice-bound lay she
Memories frozen in an ice-blink, of her dying diety

The Snow King, snowed under and snow bound
How now he admired the Guelder Rose, new found
Yet his thoughts were lost, in a snow storm's mistake
Within one lonely, snow white flake
His Ice-Queen had left, with words shot from a quiver
As his snow-slip emotions, became as a snow-broth wither
Letting his thoughts, above the snow-line
Lost in a snow-blink, his Ice Queen, was frozen in time
Ever her false love, so cold, so unkind
Left him alone, snow-blind, of his queens' cold and frigid mind

by Jemia
139 · Jun 2022
A Web Of Lies
"What did you do that for?"
Said a rather large spider
I was already fairly horrified
To of found, a rather large spider
Clinging on to the inside of my yellow shower curtain
At the point, dressed only in my skin
I was about to enter
But had noticed a dark shadow
Which at first imagined
Was perhaps a ball of hair
But i gently peeled back the yellow shower curtain
To step into the warming sprinkles
I quickly grabbed a small cup
And packet of Aspirin
That i keep in the bathroom
And using the packet
Flicked the spider into the cup
And quickly put the pack over the top
And it had been at this point
That the spider had spoken to me
Not quite knowing what to say
Or how to respond to a talking spider
I said " I'm sorry, but i don't shower
In the company of strangers!"
I could hear the spider
Scuttle around the cup a few times
Then it replied "That's not what i heard!"
I picked up the cup
And without responding
Walked into my kitchen
Opened the window
And threw the spider out!
Returned to the bathroom
Stepped into the refreshing shower spray
And thought "****** cheek!"

by Jemia
138 · Sep 2022
Perhaps. Perhaps Not?
Yesterday
I rescued a spider
From the bath
And wondered why
Spiders repeatedly
Do this thing
Like moths
Banging their heads
Against lights
But then i thought
They're no different
Than people
But then i thought
Perhaps the fairies
Will visit me tonight
Here at this twilight hour
The new stars
Hidden behind
The dusty clouds
Whilst the fairies
Lay perched
Upon mossy green bowers
Perhaps
They will visit
Upon my beckoning
Or perhaps
When my life has reached
It's final reckoning
They will come
And flower
And blossom, and bloom
Perhaps
They will not?

by Jemia
137 · Apr 2021
Water Babies
Mother ocean
Her veins stretch inwards
As her life blood
Leaks into rivulets
Of rivers
They are her water babies
by Jemia
Words
Like the soft silk
Of newborn flesh
Blowing, a billowing in the wind
Sinking
Into oceans of doubt
And alternative portals
With different outcomes
Then turning from silk
Into velvet
The ocean changes
Becoming a dark pool
Deep
And dangerous
Yet strangely alluring
As i begin to drown
Within a thousand sorrows
Yet somehow
Scramble ashore
And walk through the quicksand
Of doubts

by Jemia
Hogarth, was a troll
Normally a very friendly troll
Unless he was hungry
When he was hungry
He wasn't friendly at all
He once ate a cyclist, bicycle and all!
But the cyclist, leapt out of the mouth of the troll
As the troll, was on a stroll
And felt quite full, after eating the bicycle whole
The wheels of the bicycle broke loose
As the troll burped, and farted, like a goose
Then the pedals turned around, within the trolls tum
As the troll was cleaning his ears, with his big troll thumb
Then the troll farted again, which rang the bicycle bell
The troll then tripped, and over he fell
And just as he snorted, out of his snout
All the parts of the bicycle, were suddenly blown out
The gap in his tum , was just an empty hole
Saw his reflection, in a pool, he was no longer a troll
His colour from being, a slimy greeny, green
And his big troll ears, could no longer be seen
He now had big pouty lips, and watery eyes
A dark emerald skin, And a long tongue, for catching flies
Then realised he wasn't looking at his reflection in a pool
It was a rather large toad, he felt such a fool
So he wandered off home, to under a bridge
And ate a caterpillar sandwich, he'd left in the fridge!

by Jemia
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