You are....
Proud, elegant, statuesque
Designed with me in mind
Unspoilt
Your spike heel gives the illusion of exquisite fragility
But it is unassumingly strong
Powerful, lifting me up
Empowering me with height
Cushioned for comfort
Intimidating appearance disguising soothing snugness
Sling back, strapping me in for a safe journey
Solid base, effortless stability
Your steep arch reflecting the curve of a woman's back
All black matt but still shining
Silver studs reflecting light with a ferocious glare
Demanding attention and daring any other shoe to match your sass
You upgrade wardrobes
No everyday shoe
Not suitable for the daily battles with the pavement
You require a stage
You provide your own platform
Wearing you is a performance
The fierce warrior stance you provide makes you the essential element of my impenetrable style armour
Strutting in you is like issuing a challenge
You tranform me into an amazonian
A gladiator
A dominatrix
Forget ruby slippers
When I slip my feet into you I can conquer and seize any place as my home
But for all your glamour and enchantment
Regardless of how enamoured I am
Despite my deep desire to flaunt you to the world
You remain entombed in your box
Imprisoned in darkness
Unworn and unable to fulfill your life's purpose
Occasionally I tenderly unwrap you from the beige tissue paper that enshrines you
Holding you up with admiration, drifting my fingers across your deliciously soft skin
I carefully place my feet in your firm grip
And sashay down the hallway
But when time arrives too soon as always
My schedule requires me to adorn warm, flat bottomed boots
Or common place, brightly decorated but mundanely gripped kicks
The world I must enter on a daily basis has no place for a warrior heel
Too many cracks and gaps to skip over
Fancy footwear is a luxury that hard work does not understand
Sexy shoes won't pay my bills
(In my profession of choice at least)
I'm fighting the good fight, hustling real hard
My inner glamour girl must give way to humility
I cannot allow myself to stand aloof, lifted on spikes above the dirt ground
I must be dirtied, and plough through to sew seeds and reap harvests
And so
I'm afraid
My poor neglected shoe
Mama
Just ain't
Had time for you....
Wednesday, 15 December 2010
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
Rocky roads....
I have always been my own rock
Not polished, or statuesque, not glimmering with precious stones or metallic residue
But steadfast and enduring and solid
I have braved waves of emotion, constant battering from angry vicious winds
I have born the weight of others
I have suffered the hacking and picking and steady accumulation of fear, of doubt, of despair
I have maintained my structure and integrity through avalanches
My own character has been chiselled from this rock
Morals moulded, opinions hammered
I have scratched my direction and continually sanded away at my flaws
But this rock is crumbling
Slowly, certainly, falling apart
Leaving the steel rod that forms my backbone exposed and vulnerable
The bright, strong, gleaming iron is gradually rusting
The everyday oxidation and toxication of life is corroding it's power
Jeopardising my ability to stand tall and keep my head up
This structure has withstood wobbles and tremors and shakes
But never before has it been this close to utter collapse
I have manifested and perfected this rock for so long
It has become more than a strength of character or a coping mechanism
It has become my definition
So now...
I need a new rock
Brighton rock with my name written through your core
Sweet and jaw breakingly solid
A rock of ages to see me through all stages and phases and put up with my incessent bullshit
Caringly carved from solid marble, practically perfect
Smooth, secure, my stronghold
Broad shoulders, firm grip, grounded feet, unshakeable
More than a pebble, I need you to be my unpenetrable mountain
My fortress without the associated solitude, just me and you
Your gravelly voice reducing the attacks of the world to rubble
My beautiful gargoyle, unchanging and undefeatable
The cornerstone and foundation of my world
That's not much for a girl to ask for...is it?
And in return?
I will be every metaphor, analogy, emblem, similie and cliche you could ever need
I'll be your partner in crime, your eternal flame , your comforter, your best friend
Your commrade in arms, your provider, your night nurse, the light at the end of all your tunnels
I'll be your muse, the mother of your seed and of your inspiration, your die hard fan
Your homegirl, your secret little freak, your breath of fresh air, your band aid
I'll be all the cake your hidden fat kid could ever need, your favourite pair of jeans and your darkest fantasy
I'll be the rhythm your heart beats to, the song your soul sings, your great escape
And when you've helped rebuild me
I'll be your rock too
Not polished, or statuesque, not glimmering with precious stones or metallic residue
But steadfast and enduring and solid
I have braved waves of emotion, constant battering from angry vicious winds
I have born the weight of others
I have suffered the hacking and picking and steady accumulation of fear, of doubt, of despair
I have maintained my structure and integrity through avalanches
My own character has been chiselled from this rock
Morals moulded, opinions hammered
I have scratched my direction and continually sanded away at my flaws
But this rock is crumbling
Slowly, certainly, falling apart
Leaving the steel rod that forms my backbone exposed and vulnerable
The bright, strong, gleaming iron is gradually rusting
The everyday oxidation and toxication of life is corroding it's power
Jeopardising my ability to stand tall and keep my head up
This structure has withstood wobbles and tremors and shakes
But never before has it been this close to utter collapse
I have manifested and perfected this rock for so long
It has become more than a strength of character or a coping mechanism
It has become my definition
So now...
I need a new rock
Brighton rock with my name written through your core
Sweet and jaw breakingly solid
A rock of ages to see me through all stages and phases and put up with my incessent bullshit
Caringly carved from solid marble, practically perfect
Smooth, secure, my stronghold
Broad shoulders, firm grip, grounded feet, unshakeable
More than a pebble, I need you to be my unpenetrable mountain
My fortress without the associated solitude, just me and you
Your gravelly voice reducing the attacks of the world to rubble
My beautiful gargoyle, unchanging and undefeatable
The cornerstone and foundation of my world
That's not much for a girl to ask for...is it?
And in return?
I will be every metaphor, analogy, emblem, similie and cliche you could ever need
I'll be your partner in crime, your eternal flame , your comforter, your best friend
Your commrade in arms, your provider, your night nurse, the light at the end of all your tunnels
I'll be your muse, the mother of your seed and of your inspiration, your die hard fan
Your homegirl, your secret little freak, your breath of fresh air, your band aid
I'll be all the cake your hidden fat kid could ever need, your favourite pair of jeans and your darkest fantasy
I'll be the rhythm your heart beats to, the song your soul sings, your great escape
And when you've helped rebuild me
I'll be your rock too
Attached by Strings
I heard someone say 'Even the finest instruments are mute without strings'
And I thought...
'What about wind instruments'?
They are just full of holes.
But when I connected with you, I was left feeling mute
Said you liked my physical properties
The way I had been crafted, designed with music in mind
Rhythmical, more than ornamental, moving to my own beat
The build up was lengthy, innocent and proper
Interaction started as professional, became friendly then flirty and full of promise
Vocal and textual harmonies were made
You liked the sound of my voice, I liked what you felt inspired to say
Pictures of potential were a slideshow in my mind
Replays of our conversation providing the soundtrack
And when promises were fulfilled and you professed a desire to be my accompaniment
A decision was made not to overthink, just follow the music and go with the flow
And the flow took us to a place where innocence could no longer follow
Neither could sense or reason...just feeling
I lost my words and found my scream
The whole world was humming at the same pitch
The song was enduring but could not be endless
There was no sheet music to guide what happened next
This was a genre and style who's technique I had yet to learn
I rediscovered my words, but could not find their meaning
I let you play me, no strings attached......
Even the finest instruments are mute without strings
And I thought...
'What about wind instruments'?
They are just full of holes.
But when I connected with you, I was left feeling mute
Said you liked my physical properties
The way I had been crafted, designed with music in mind
Rhythmical, more than ornamental, moving to my own beat
The build up was lengthy, innocent and proper
Interaction started as professional, became friendly then flirty and full of promise
Vocal and textual harmonies were made
You liked the sound of my voice, I liked what you felt inspired to say
Pictures of potential were a slideshow in my mind
Replays of our conversation providing the soundtrack
And when promises were fulfilled and you professed a desire to be my accompaniment
A decision was made not to overthink, just follow the music and go with the flow
And the flow took us to a place where innocence could no longer follow
Neither could sense or reason...just feeling
I lost my words and found my scream
The whole world was humming at the same pitch
The song was enduring but could not be endless
There was no sheet music to guide what happened next
This was a genre and style who's technique I had yet to learn
I rediscovered my words, but could not find their meaning
I let you play me, no strings attached......
Even the finest instruments are mute without strings
15 Lines of Frustration
Words
On the page
Written to persuade
My mind to release
It's creative rage
Genuine prose eludes me
Currently
I have the option of
'Prentension' or 'Whimsy'
Neither of which suit me
So for now
I bow down
To the cat that's got my tongue
But I vow
That this silence will be temporary
On the page
Written to persuade
My mind to release
It's creative rage
Genuine prose eludes me
Currently
I have the option of
'Prentension' or 'Whimsy'
Neither of which suit me
So for now
I bow down
To the cat that's got my tongue
But I vow
That this silence will be temporary
Friday, 24 September 2010
Dinner Date
I have this rule you see, a rule i really try to keep
Developed through repetitions of pathetic scenarios, occuring so frequently they are simply tragically un-unique
Developed through repetitions of pathetic scenarios, occuring so frequently they are simply tragically un-unique
Pathetic experiences which through some cruel twist commonly prove me a fool
In the grip of desperation and seeking to avoid humiliation I have created this rule:
In the grip of desperation and seeking to avoid humiliation I have created this rule:
NO GIVING OUT MY NUMBER ON PUBLIC TRANSPORT!
Now I really had plans for, abiding by my own law, unfortunately TFL conspired to seal my fate
This fella was 6'4, tube swayed he caught me mid fall, I just couldn't say no when he requested a dinner date
My weakness for tall men and free food, combined with the slick quick wit of this dude, made my fall from my rule inevitable
He was a.....rough diamond, do anything he said like he was called Simon, I could tell he was more than a little bit road, but I thought I could upgrade him, he could be my new assignment
And that night...He looked edible, not that sweet boy sugary scene, no e numbers in his alphabet, he was neither sickly nor was he saccharine
He was savoury, and I could tell from his look he wanted to savour me Slow digest, sip not slurp, breathe in my aura and taste flavours fully
He said 'beautiful order whatever you like, your figures right, swaggers tight, I'm proud to be with you tonight, I wanna feed your body soul and mind, n wana watch this food slip thru your lips n straight to the hips n I know them hips don't lie!'
Now I really had plans for, abiding by my own law, unfortunately TFL conspired to seal my fate
This fella was 6'4, tube swayed he caught me mid fall, I just couldn't say no when he requested a dinner date
My weakness for tall men and free food, combined with the slick quick wit of this dude, made my fall from my rule inevitable
He was a.....rough diamond, do anything he said like he was called Simon, I could tell he was more than a little bit road, but I thought I could upgrade him, he could be my new assignment
And that night...He looked edible, not that sweet boy sugary scene, no e numbers in his alphabet, he was neither sickly nor was he saccharine
He was savoury, and I could tell from his look he wanted to savour me Slow digest, sip not slurp, breathe in my aura and taste flavours fully
He said 'beautiful order whatever you like, your figures right, swaggers tight, I'm proud to be with you tonight, I wanna feed your body soul and mind, n wana watch this food slip thru your lips n straight to the hips n I know them hips don't lie!'
Course after course, cuz you know I'm not a picky salad girl, I'm a fluffy girl, can't get enough and the entree alone mixed with his teasing conversation really kina rocked my world
We started out with drinks, still slightly awkward but sweet and dizzying and new, my appetite for food was overtaken by my hunger to know him
Over starters we covered fathers, mothers, siblings, favourite colours, I was told as a child not to rush my food but I wanted to devour him
By the main course we got deep and delved into dreams, discussed the various people who had scarred us, he had me thinking maybe it could be just us, maybe I could be full up
By dessert it was long lingering stares, he satisfied my lust for sweetness with mischievous jokes and tantalising charm...you know what they say, little of something bad is often good for you
I giggled and blushed and licked my lips, raised my wine hazed heavy lidded eyes to meet his gaze
Deep brown intense unfazed, his dizzying look made me sure he knew what I craved
His lips parted, succulent and moist, sending signals to my brain
Synapses firing, pupils dilating, skin tingling as I anticipated what he might say..............
'Nahhh but hear this tho babe,like mans saying jsa don't drop till weds....what have you got p for this yh!?'
I have this rule you see....
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
I Gave Him My Music
More tube musings....
Worse than giving him my heart....I gave him my music
I could have gone wading knee deep in love, got caught up with heart flutterings, given into the belly butterflies and the sweet words and mutterings.
Instead I took time, laid back style, wanted to foster a true connection, appreciate his philosophy, learn his dreams before handing over my affection.
On a plate....
The conversation was a deep crimson red, charged and alive, banter flowed like an electrical current, sparked by passionate curiosity and a delightful ignorance of each other.
Musical exploration was our sex text talk, sharing that which we felt was spiritual, secretly whispering lyrics which represented our minds and captivated our souls.
We were guided through each others perspectives, motives and prerogatives by basslines and metronomes, we explored hopes, dreams and plans to word play and crescendos, progressing from adagio to allegro and drifting into a nocturne.
From a capella to harmony, we hit that falsetto....
And not just that Boom Boom Pow way or that Freak Me, Sex Is On Fire, Let's Get It On, Oochie Wally type musical connection...this was some Do You Feel Me, Pass Me Over, Honey Molasses type bond mixed with summa that Untitled ish.
I gave him my lovers rock, my soulful house, my neo soul, my slow jams, my new jack swing, my classical, my indie, my motown, my hip hop, my jazz, my bashment. All the pieces to the puzzle of my fragmented persona.
I even almost gave him the Unthinkable
But when it came to that moment in honesty and someone had to take the lead that night, I did sit right there and tell him all that came to me....and concluded that if I did the unthinkable it WOULD make me look crazy.
When I saw his true colours shining through, I realised they did not match my palette and could not fit with my spectrum
We neither complimented nor co-ordinated, his hue clashed with mine. I excused and 'pooh poohed' and consistently refused, to acknowledge our colour schemes could not blend, but the inevitable was undeniable. I was Living My life Like It's Golden, he was goin on Shady and his real self would not stand up. So I was left with the Aftermath.
I have no bitter words for him, no regrets, no anymosity.....I only wish I hadn't given him the music.
Miss CS x
Worse than giving him my heart....I gave him my music
I could have gone wading knee deep in love, got caught up with heart flutterings, given into the belly butterflies and the sweet words and mutterings.
Instead I took time, laid back style, wanted to foster a true connection, appreciate his philosophy, learn his dreams before handing over my affection.
On a plate....
The conversation was a deep crimson red, charged and alive, banter flowed like an electrical current, sparked by passionate curiosity and a delightful ignorance of each other.
Musical exploration was our sex text talk, sharing that which we felt was spiritual, secretly whispering lyrics which represented our minds and captivated our souls.
We were guided through each others perspectives, motives and prerogatives by basslines and metronomes, we explored hopes, dreams and plans to word play and crescendos, progressing from adagio to allegro and drifting into a nocturne.
From a capella to harmony, we hit that falsetto....
And not just that Boom Boom Pow way or that Freak Me, Sex Is On Fire, Let's Get It On, Oochie Wally type musical connection...this was some Do You Feel Me, Pass Me Over, Honey Molasses type bond mixed with summa that Untitled ish.
I gave him my lovers rock, my soulful house, my neo soul, my slow jams, my new jack swing, my classical, my indie, my motown, my hip hop, my jazz, my bashment. All the pieces to the puzzle of my fragmented persona.
I even almost gave him the Unthinkable
But when it came to that moment in honesty and someone had to take the lead that night, I did sit right there and tell him all that came to me....and concluded that if I did the unthinkable it WOULD make me look crazy.
When I saw his true colours shining through, I realised they did not match my palette and could not fit with my spectrum
We neither complimented nor co-ordinated, his hue clashed with mine. I excused and 'pooh poohed' and consistently refused, to acknowledge our colour schemes could not blend, but the inevitable was undeniable. I was Living My life Like It's Golden, he was goin on Shady and his real self would not stand up. So I was left with the Aftermath.
I have no bitter words for him, no regrets, no anymosity.....I only wish I hadn't given him the music.
Miss CS x
Tube Musings...
Its been even more than a hot minute (hot few months...or cold, depending where you are), but I'm back! Just going to post up a couple of pieces that came to my mind on various tube journeys.....
Read, enjoy, comment, etc :)
You are consistently confusing
You confuse me consistently
Consistently I am confused
Confused all the time
Could it be
Should it be
Would you be
Mine?
My bafflement causes me to create new words to describe
The plethora of information I feel I am missing
The ifs, what's, buts and how's fill my mind
Alongside hmming n ahhing and hoping and wishing
I take charge of the situation, rush decisively to action
I will master this, control my wish, command this attraction
I feel focused, I understand your mind, know whats on your dome
I clock your motivations, I know my safe route home
But slowly, slowly, doubt fills my head toxically
It smothers and suffocates and I realise that paradoxically
What's most bittersweet is you're just a dream I've created
Nothing more than fantasy, nothing strong, nothing fated
You're an amalgamation of all the things I want my man to be
So the reason for my confusion, really....is me
You are consistently confusing
You confuse me consistently
Consistently I am confused
Confused all the time
Could it be
Should it be
Would you be
Mine?
Miss CS x
Read, enjoy, comment, etc :)
You are consistently confusing
You confuse me consistently
Consistently I am confused
Confused all the time
Could it be
Should it be
Would you be
Mine?
My bafflement causes me to create new words to describe
The plethora of information I feel I am missing
The ifs, what's, buts and how's fill my mind
Alongside hmming n ahhing and hoping and wishing
I take charge of the situation, rush decisively to action
I will master this, control my wish, command this attraction
I feel focused, I understand your mind, know whats on your dome
I clock your motivations, I know my safe route home
But slowly, slowly, doubt fills my head toxically
It smothers and suffocates and I realise that paradoxically
What's most bittersweet is you're just a dream I've created
Nothing more than fantasy, nothing strong, nothing fated
You're an amalgamation of all the things I want my man to be
So the reason for my confusion, really....is me
You are consistently confusing
You confuse me consistently
Consistently I am confused
Confused all the time
Could it be
Should it be
Would you be
Mine?
Miss CS x
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