Very sadly, today
One of my breakfast bowls
Passed away
Along with two Weetabix
Looking so inbetween
As the sugar shaker
Like a mean machine
Pounced upon bowl
And contents
Including the milk
All fell to the floor
And quite simply
Were no more
My sugar shaker, i fear
Looking to be a cheap thriller
Has now become
A cereal killer
As i cast out
The broken remains
Into my flip top bin
I then committed the cardinal sin
And grabbing a fresh identical bowl
Seemingly uncaring, as to its soul
Nor for the newly departed
Weetabix dead
I decided to have
Shredded Wheat instead!

by Jemia

On a tiny little island
In the middle of a small pool
Stood a very, very tall tree
That was ever so tall
That it's top was allowed
To brush the clouds
Near the top of this tree
Lived a small family
Of tree sprites
And late at night
Would often be seen
Creating clouds of a misty green
As they flew, one, and all
Just above the very small pool
Sometimes, when twilight was nigh
They sat astride dragonflies
Their wings often skimming the water
Like stones
Whilst shrieking with pleasure
In a myriad tones
The wise old owl
That lived a few branches lower
Would blink open its owly eyes
Would hoot loudly, and occasionally glower
As the shy squirrel, would hide away like a flower
So would clean out its drey
Which was tucked away
Within the tree
Using its big bushy tail
To sweep away the nut shells
(The sprites would gather these together
To wear on their heads, in stormy weather)
Below the squirrel
Which lived just below the owl
Who in turn
Lived below the tree sprites
There lived a cuckoo
Who
When quite alone
Would waltz around her home
And practise what she would sing
Upon the arrival of Spring
Below the cuckoo, lived two pigeons
Who sometimes teased the cuckoo
By taking it in turn to coo
Coo, coo, what a hullabaloo!
Beneath the pigeons
Lived a woodworm, called Woody
He never made a sound, he could not, how could he?
And just below him, lived a witch so profound
Where the tree, joined the ground
The witch, was called Harriet
She had a broom, as fast as a jet
The wood for the broom, had grown on the tree
As had her wand, of great mystery
The tree
Was called Ogilvy
He was very old, and wise
His aged limbs, touched the skies
His roots ran deep, deep underground
Spreading far, and wide, and all around
He, like the woodworm
Never spoke a sound
Other than to rustle in the breeze
Like most other trees
And when there was a gale
Seemingly seemed, to sometimes wail
As he was pushed sideways, with the wind
Creating a somewhat loud, creaking din
But protected all those, that lived within
And in the Summer, and the Spring
Ogilvy did a magical thing
As all his blossoms, and leaves would grow
They'd reveal the colours, of a beautiful rainbow

by Jemia

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

I tried to imagine
What it was like
To be
A refugee at sea
Floating along
Swamped with waves
Better to drown?
Than go home...Craving
For a safe haven
I spent six months
In the Merchant Navy
Stood aboard
A 350 tonne Coaster
Looking at
The swirling gravy
As i often used to think
I can't swim
I can sink
Sometimes
Biting my lip
With fear
As severe storms
Were drawing near
Poseidens' rage
Lurking
Eyeing the lifeboat
In dismay
The inevitable
Just a simple delay
As we roll
With the sway
Of a tempestuous sea
This at least, was my choice
As i had nothing to flee
Apart from
The churning sea

by Jemia

As the soft silent snow
Gently flows
The now frozen landscape
Slows
To a quiet stillness
Other than
A Robin Redbreast
Singing sweetly, and serenely
Upon a box hedge
As i silently dream
Of an old wooden sledge
Reminiscing
Of years gone by
As i flew down
A snowy hillside
And believed i could fly
I then screamed with excitement
And also with fear
Relishing the joy
That Christmas was near
Hands frozen from snowballs
Thrown with much fun
As snowmen were built
Under the cool winter sun
Then return home
To a warming log fire
And a cup of hot chocolate
Was my biggest desire
The ice on the windows
Inside, and out
As the landscape around
Gradually froze
My cheeks, a soft reddish blush
Awaiting the dread
Of snow turned to slush

by Jemia

Seems like Putin
Has put in
Got everyone
Over a barrel
There is
No fuel
Like
An old fuel.......

by Jemia

Invite to the Wild Fairy Ball
Hosts Titania and Oberon, hear our call
Welcome, welcome, welcome one, and all
You are duly invited, to attend our ball
Where Fairies, and Elves, and Pixies will dance
And lovers will meet, for a little romance
Where tables are set, full of food and red wine
And musical harps, and lyres, will offer sublime
And owls, and foxes, cats, and hares
Will dance the dance Fandango, with a magical flare
Pan will enchant you, with his pipes all afire
All will dance, around the flames of desire
And Unicorns will gallop, and Trolls will groan
Welcome one and all, to the twilight zone
Try not to turtle, smurtle, fret, or fottle
There is no need, to bring a bottle!
by Jemia

Mother ocean
Her veins stretch inwards
As her life blood
Leaks into rivulets
Of rivers
They are her water babies
by Jemia

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

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

I spent to much time
Of my life
In  de Nile
And eventiually
Got eaten
By de hippo!

by Jemia

The silent sighs of loneliness
Sweep softly, and secretly
Through succulent memories
As a sad reminiscence
Searches, and sears
Through a yearning soul
Sometime, maybe soon
Someone
Somewhere
With sweet seductive eyes
Will sweep me away
To some secret hideaway
Within our hearts
I await such sorcery
And majestic mysterious magic
Solemnly
As surely now
Tis but a sweet dream
And the lonely silence
Will prevail
by Jemia

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

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

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

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

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

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

"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

The strangest thing, as if my dreams aren't strange enough? Is that for the last three nights, in a row (ie: consecutive nights!) the bed sock on my right foot, has come off (yes, i wear socks in bed...). the only odd thing about this, is that prior to aforementioned nights, this event has only occurred about 3 times in the last 5 years, and alternated betwixt feet!
Perhaps a rebellious sock fairy, with a penchant for foot (as opposed to foreplay) play with my right foot, and a quirky sense of humour, is responsible for this foul, and odious foot cooling deed! or my right foot is reaching out for freedom, and some form of independence. escaping the confines, and imprisonment of my humble sock, that i force upon it?
What am i to do with a rebellious right foot? when all i'm doing, is trying to protect, and care for it, and keep it warm, the ungrateful little ****! next thing i know, it'll start expecting me to wear sandals, or perish the thought, flipflops! And has my right foot considered the feelings, and needs of my left foot? what's to happen if my left foot wishes to remain in it's current form, and prefers socks, and fab boots?
So if you see me walking down the street, nay, hobbling, with a boot on one foot, and a flipflop on the other, you'll know ive given way to both feet. ironic, in my attempts to satisfy, and create some kind of harmony, that i should end up with a limp. but just as i thought my life was complicated, i witnessed  a pirate with a peg leg, hobbling around in a flipflop!
by Jemia

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

From Wuthering Heights
To withering frights
Lo! i am the witch that be
I live on the sand, just by the sea

I cause the sand, to fall into your bread
I laugh at your curses, and what you have said
And watch with joy, as the seagulls attack
And fly away with, your seaside snack

I don't have a broom, as i use a sail
I cackle, and curse, and occasionally wail
And should you wonder at my green-ness indeed
It's due to my diet, of eating seaweed!

I especially enjoy things, when the sky turns grey
And a storm is brewing, with plenty of spray
With a cold wind ablowing, sand everywhere
I cackle, and chuckle, as it gets in your hair

Apart from all that, cold, and ice
Deep down inside, I'm actually quite nice
If you meet me, i'll happily include you
In my eye of newt, and wing of bat stew!

by Jemia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I have a street sign for Carnaby Street
Hanging high, upon my wall
Me, and a close friend, used to go there
And to Portebello Road, and all

We'd jump onto the tube, every weekend
Not a ticket did we buy
Dodging the ticket collector, with derring-do
Up destinations fire escapes, we would fly

Our road map of central London
We eventually carried in our head
Having knowledge of the main attractions
Like Highgate Cemetery, where lay the famous dead

We visited museums, and Buck' Pal of course
And Downing Street, and Big Ben
Crossed most bridges over the Thames as well
Battersea Power Station, and the Dogs Home den

Witnessed changing of the guard
Visited the Art Galleries of the day
Listened in at Speakers Corner, Hyde Park
And sneaked in at Regents park zoo, by the way

Went down Baker Street, to see Sherlock
And Madam Taussauds, full of wax, and flair
How we never got caught sneaking in, i'll never know
I think London wanted us there

We also saw the drunks, and homeless
All scattered in disarray
There was something about their life
That i knew i would experience one day

I kind of knew i'd become a squatter
Before i would become a woman
i needed to have more life experience
Before confronting that truth

My friends name, was Irish Bill, he was a wild child like me
He introduced me to his girlfriends mother
I was fifteen, she was thirty six, i was a ******
she plied me with Dutch courage, we then had a bit of the other!
by Jemia

Like petals
Unfolding
Under the first light
Of a new day
As the open arms
Of love
Warm
And welcoming
Until the petals
Begin to fall
Gently at first
Gliding
To the soft earth
Below
Nature soon disowns you
As vampire bees
Pass you bye
As you age
And rot
And eventually die

by Jemia

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

Memories lay
Deep within
Their myriad roots
Their soiled souls
Hidden echoes
Of their past glories
That nurtured future generations
Of growth
But things had changed
As trees
Were being slaughtered en masse
As creatures
With razor teeth
Tore into their flesh
And down they fell
This was only the beginning
As soon after this
They shed sawdust tears
In disdain, and screaming pain
They were tortured
And torn
From mother earth
They told each other
Of a similar tell
Of trees, that once stood proud
Now, that fell
At first, a great mourning
As trees shook their limbs
In disbelief
Followed by
This terrible grief
At hearts, that had been cut to pieces
Then, as one
They uprooted
And marched up into the sky
And carried along
By a kindly wind
Moved to another world
Planet Earth became bare
As its inhabitants
could no longer breathe
Clean, fresh, life giving air

by Jemia

A cting
N ervous
G athering
S torm
T hreatens

by Jemia
(rehearsals tomorrow! hope there's no dramas!)

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

Getting puddled
Whilst piddling
In a paddling pool
Purposeful Poodles
Poo
In a private pond
Whilst picky Pekinese
Prefer
A pretty privy
Perchance
A plain parallelogram
Has a poetic ****
As for Peter Piper
Got pickled,
And ******!
by Jemia

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

Dear family
We went on another march today
And found a platoon of our colleagues
Lying dead in a large circle
We all instantly knew
The fate that befell them
They'd lost contact
With HQ
Got lost
And literally
Wandered round in circles
Gradually starving to death
I'm writing this to you dear family
As this current patrol
All fully comprehend
The circumstances
That we now find ourselves in
And the realisation
That we now face
The same fate
As we too
Have drifted out of contact range
If you get this message
Which i very much doubt you will
I knew the consequences
When i was first signed up
To the 27th Soldier Ant Regiment
2nd hill
Unit three
I miss cutting leaves!

by Jemia

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

If Mother Earth
Was our child
And we were her parents
Charges against our parenting
Perhaps would include
Systematic abuse
Violation of human rights
Neglect
Abandonment
Enforced child labour
Maltreatment
Ignorance of health, and care needs
Eventual infanticide
The global reality
Of what many children face daily
The fading beauty
Of Mother Earth
Our children will also face
Hunger
And the aftermath
Of chaos
That they'll inherit

by Jemia

When i leave
My mortal coil
I would love to think
That mourners, do not toil
But instead, are awash with colour
With flowers in their hair
Created at home
Or from an art group flair
No cut flowers
If can do
Let natures beauty
Remain alive, and true
I would prefer my burial
To be green
But realise that this
Would be a costly dream
Although i have no religious views
Folk could express, their own adieus
My greatest wish
Is to leave love
For all of you
And this love
Will remain as true
And as hot
As a Vindaloo
As i drift off
Into an ethereal mist
And dance with the fairies
Drinking mead
And getting ******

by Jemia

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

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

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

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

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

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