A Testimony Of Me

 I was in a psychiatric hospital as I had been crazily mad. But within three months I got much better. The psychiatrist put me on injections, to my objections, but they persevered and low and behold they served my fine, as I got no longer 'out of my mind'. And since that objection of subjection with having an injection, I am of  the opinion that I need them to stay on top of myself and to remain in good-spirited-health. So they were a treat put into my meat, in the bottom, where previously on hindsight I did smite this tripe but now I think them alright, as I am no longer in flight from my faculties, and now I don't gripe with a verbal fight using all of my mighty might.

Once well, I can now tell, the hospital was hell. But I left and got to ring the bell - like on a cancer ward.

I didn't like being around a crazy patient, as I had little patience. A source of ambivalence I know, and as the passing of time did grow, I got to again glow with my literature pieces that still flow. They weren't all crazy on the ward I was in, as a lot were capable of holding a conversing conversation, and some, like me, had gotten better, but were just waiting for the right accommodation. So I could accommodate those I didn't hate - hate is too stronger of a word, strongly disliked, and got on with them, sharing days out and activities on the ward, such as playing chess no less, as I was the best, put to the test by the rest. I also used to play scrabble, which was my game of choice, as I deem myself to be a bit of a wordsmith. I also like rummy-hub, which was good to play, working out lots of maths.

I was in hospital, segregated on the initial ward, for three months, and after that I could come and go as I pleased, so because the ward setting was depressing I used to go out on leave everyday, and found a whole new bunch of friends, who followed my trends, of folly jolly banter. I used to go to the local pub, which was on the doorstep, and socialised with everyone who visited, regulars and fleeting passing. So I used to socialise with the guys on the ward in the morning at the local Starbucks, then go back with them for lunch, then after a munch I would head off to the pub - just drinking Pepsi-Max. I used to get there about two, and stay till last orders were called, roughly between ten pm and eleven pm.

My ward report was a credit to me, as I got rave reviews from there observations of my behaviour and character of having a good nature. I got on with my peers, and would rather walk away from any hostile aggression towards myself, or others. I got on with all of the staff, and to be honest I prefered conversing with them, as I deemed them sane of mind, normal if you like.

I went to the local gym for six months, and got into a healthy routine, but stopped going because of a knee injury with lifting too much, which greatly disheartened myself this ill-health. But one consolation is it hasn't affected my ability to walk, just run. But I am still quite stocky from my endeavours at the gym.

Like I stated, I was well after three months of being detained, and I had been taken off being sectioned under the mental health act, I remained in hospital just to wait for a suitable placement, as that's what my daughter and family wanted for me. So here I am now, in a modern house with the best fixtures and fittings I could have ever hoped for. So I'm under supervision now, which I don't mind, as in my last flat, besides my pet dog, I was mostly on my own. I like engaging in activities here, and they often take us out to different places several times a week. So I am a happy chappie very chirpy, and now funny with the banter I've been expressively expressing with expressive expression to expressively impress?

Thank  you for taking the time to read this testimony from me, now free, and I will now a respectful citizen of the UK. Blessings to you my friends, good luck and merry tidings. 

A photograph of me with me Mother 

Love love, Andrew.

A Tear Now Cheer

 I am so, so, so happy in my new home,

There are plenty of rooms to often roam,

The staff and residents are all quite sound

And it is nothing like a care home pound.

I miss my pet dog, Sadie, who is beyond me,

She was adopted and has gone to a good home,

I got remanded in a psychiatric place you see

So rather than go in kennels I set her to free.

But I have my fond memories of my pet,

And it for the better you bet as of yet,

But I hope to rekindle our relationship

Another day ahead for our friendship.

The staff where I am often take us out,

We go to beaches where we roam about,

They take us to play the game snooker

Where I chance I could be the winner.

We so take it in turns to cook our tea,

I don't mind, as I look fwd to a munch,

I like a full belly as it makes me happy

And today I was cooking us a brunch.

I have been well now for over a year,

My loving daughter has cried a tear

She has lived in fear for me her dear

Father, who has always been sincere.

The Spider

 I am small with long legs and a black hairy back,

I am feeling alright but there is one thing I lack - 

A nice big full belly and if I'm right with my hunch

It wont be too long before I get myself some lunch.

The human below with short, fair hair

Had opened the window to let in some air - 

Dodging flailing arms and shooing away,

My waiting could be over as in flew prey.

Walking on the walls and flying heartily about,

Flapping its wings and sniffing with its snout,

It walks on the table, then flies in the dirty bin,

Searching for food that it might find so within.

It flies up to the ceiling, then it so flies down to the floor,

It flies on up below me and lands on the kitchen door,

I hope it comes up near me and gets entangled in my web

And I hope the human's bin brings him here to me well fed.

It leaps off the door and gets caught up in my snare,

I spin my thread all over it so it cannot flee my lair,

I feel so very hungry, I haven't eaten since last night - 

The juicy fly let out a sigh as I took a mighty bite.

Fools Don't Use Tools

 I am out in the open,

My mouth is closed,

As what was spoken

Is duly now disclosed.

I am so wet with tears from years

Of transgressing my insane fears,

I was unwell, suffering a mad hell

Alone in a psychiatric hospital cell.

Come around to a euphonious sound

That is heavenly found to be bound

In and around the moat where I float

Under the spell of a throttling throat.

My words were daft - I need a raft

To escape this pool of being a fool,

Come hither, and weather together

With what tools you can so muster.

Hospital Patient

 I want to run, but can only walk,

I want to shout, but can only talk,

I am wrapped up inside myself

Suffering depressive ill health.

Pharmaceutical pills to swallow

Rendering I to be boringly slow - 

And I slur in speech, stuttering,

Mumbling and quietly muttering.

Slow stumbling - falling over,

Fighting the sleepy side-effects,

Conversations are a minimum

As I am mentally a continuum

Of sad different characteristics - 

Surrounded by bars and bricks.

Be Free From Disrespectability

 I have had a restless sleep

Where my dreams did keep

Stirring me from slumber

As I was going sadly under.

I am hag-ridden with grief

And fall softly like a leaf

To an impending gloom

Coming so way too soon.

I am not ready to pass,

Am I sadly being an ass

By being madly aghast

Remembering my past.

I have been through an odyssey

Of a nightmare of not being free,

I'm locked up suffering dejection

And am bullied into subjection.

Hospital is not the place to be

If you are suffering mentally - 

Staff don't have the time of day

Constantly sending you away.

I cannot breathe this intoxication

As I adhere to a Worldly Nation

Free from the hellish subjection

Of Doctor's and Nurse's objection.

Cat And Pat

 Kitty the kitten was taking a nap on a comfy mat, when she awoke, then sat, and yawned a long and hard    yawn,  stretching her limbs as she did so, which felt to her a nice thing to do, as it woke her up even the more. Feeling tired, she had retired to her slumber, and lay under a cover, which was now around her, on the floor next to a paw. She slowly but surely, got up off the mat and strode over to Pat, her loving owner, in the hope she would receive a petting, as she was fretting for a hugging love from her owner above, sitting quietly on the sofa watching TV. She jumped up on the settee, and sat next to she, with a sense of pursuing a little bit of tranquillity, in the sense that she, was now hungry, and would perrrrr for some dinner to put within her.

Her owner, Pat, who was sat, stroke her cat, and was knowlegdable that, her kitten was fat, and after a nap usually wanted a pat. She stroked kitty's fur, and received a purr in response. She continued petting her, enjoying the feel of her fur, and liking a purr to stir her feelings of a deep fondness for her pet. Kitty purred the more, in hoping to score a meal, which would feel good in her belly. She thought of the jelly surrounding a meal, and thought it tasty. She purred long and hard, to discard her owner to feed her.

Her owner, Pat, stayed sat up right, watching a programme in sight, and took little notice of Kitty's gripe, that it was night, and because she had had a nap, she missed out on being fed as she had been in bed, on the soft mat. She scratched Pat, then laid back, and saw the track of a scratch she had made, and hoped her maid, Pat, to get back on track by emptying a sack of food in her bowl, foretold by Kitty the bold temporely on hold - for now. She looked  into Pat's eyes, and what a surprise, she was glancing back, a fleeting glimpse. She screached a loud piercing call, which did stall Pat from watching the TV, devoid of noticing Kitty was hungry, she said to thee, 'what's a matter pussy, do you want a pet from me?'

Kitty was reading Pat's expression, as animals do, especially house-hold pets, and had regrets that Pat averted her gaze back on the TV. She snuggled lovingly up to she, Pat, and her making a we, and decided to act diplomatically, so she crawled onto a knee, and wasn't comfy, as a bone was picking on her, it was digging into a rib. She whined the more, hoping to score a meal, by wining and dining, but Pat she was finding was blinding to her whining pleading, so she raised her voice, a choice from her recollections of negotiations from a whine, to fine - a belly full! She rolled on her back, hoping that, Pat who was sat, would see she wasn't fat stretched out like a mat, and realise she hadn't been fed before she went to bed resting her body and head.

Pat's programme finished, and she turned her attention on kitty, and upon seeing her acting like she was dead, with her head out of sight, on the side of the armchair, she thought it only fair to pause and stare at what was laid bare, Kitty's hair. So she stroked her belly, and felt that it wasn't full, so instantly said to Kitty, 'Dinner time for you cat, who is not fat from food, who has had a nap, I forgot until now to feed you a meal, which is a steal if you are hungry with a hunger sounding like thunder'. So she shood kitty off her knee, and kindly but surely thought she was wily by making an expression like a smiley on poor kitty who must be hungry.

The cat got her cream by a scream, with what have been to deem to read your pet as they read you. And each like a book, take the time to look, and reminisce the past, present, and future to nurture with fervour each other's behaviour, and don't be graver in  you nature, but be pleasant and nice and win the price of unconditional loving love with the odd hug.

The Sow To Grow

 I Am well at the moment, living in a comfy home,

I am in supported living accommodation not alone,

I like it here as the residents and staff are quite nice,

So I have peace of mind from others acting like ice,

As was the case in the hospital that was my abode

For sixteen months, a long enough ride that I rode,

I am so happy now in my new pleasant situation

With relaxing rules to abide by in our population.

Oh merry me with lots of good, godly tidings

That I appreciate it in verse and my rhyming's,

The other residents are as quiet as a few mice,

And the staff are all in a throng of being nice.

My family come and visit and like the place so

With the knowledge to know that here I can sow.

Utopian Communism

 I Am a Utopian Communist. And as such want heaven to be on earth. We all should have the best on offer, and share and care for one another. Imagine everyone on the planet treating all others like sisters and brothers, brethren if you like. They should make one Holy Book for those who are religious, with the best of there faiths encompassed within its cover, and they can believe what makes sense to them reading it. Here's an example of a segment of each of the five main religions:

Christianity: our Lords character, being nice, be nice to others, and most of all 'forgiveness'.

Islam: the Prophet Mohammed preached for all women within the faith to cover up, thus preventing lots of rape victims, as in His time period there was no law, and lawlessness prevailed.

Judaism: to have a relaxing day on their sabbath, abiding to spend little effort on anything that needs doing, to have a peaceful time.

Budhism: to relax in meditation, to free your mind from the stresses with living, and to not hurt any living creature.

Sihkism: to all look after one another within the faith, and to fight if its a just cause. Now fighting can be a verbal one, and not raising a sword to hurt anyone.

Hinduism: to be a vegatarian and to treat species with the respect they deserve, as every living creature deserves to live their life free from human strife.

Of course their are other faiths, but I am not learned in those.

So one Holy Book containing the best of every religious faith. And I would add my philosophies on God.

And for everyone to own a Porshe or Ferrari, as when you break them down, what are they: metal, plastic, glass and rubber, so why can't everyone have them. We have enough of the said mentioned resources. And for everyone on the planet to live in a mansion, bearing in mind you'd have to knock down most living quarters. Rebuild the whole of our infastructure and make one house as many stories high for a family to be close to each other.

Everyone to have the best food at no cost. Just go to the supermarket once a week at a designated time, so avoiding a rush hour crush.

Build a row of mansions, and take turns living in each one, with the decor and furnishings different in each. Have the best boats, jet-skis, motorhomes, in every street, shared by all in the street, with time allowences.

In an essence, the best for everyone, etc. I'll divulge more of my philosophies in future posts.

Take it easy and be good as you should no matter what your hood.

Love heavenly love, Andrew.

A Profiteering Prophet

 A prophet was prophesising In the market square. He was ranting and raving at those misbehaving. He said if there is God, you will be damned in damnation in segregation separation. He will smite you with her mighty might for the sake or righteousness seriousness. The crowd that were crowded around him looked about at any sorrowful expressions expressed expressively with guilt. They fixated their gazing wonder on the criminal to ponder his fate, a date not to late with God at the Devil's gate.

A member of the crowd spoke out loud, 'I'm in a shroud, as I am not proud of my sin against all of my kin, which you all are, and from afar I pray for forgiveness, as I repent, and will now relent, on being hell-bent on not abiding to Lent'. The prophet responded, 'it is not too late to go on a date of your fate. I see you have a course of remorse, so Godly God might not smite at you a tripe, and even though He is out of sight, your hype at his gripe will be goodnight to His flight of a date with fate. I see compassion in your passion for no-more aggression, so with your new found suppression, you've been taught a lesson, and a class taught is a lesson learned, so be learned and pray unto Him that you now feel sorry for your sin against your kin, as we are all brother's and Sister's unto Him, so hide your pride and abide by the tide of incoming, and out going, waving of behaving, and be humble in our wooden jungle, and don't mumble, but be proud with being loud'.

Passers by stopped and joined the throng of belong by not doing wrong. The crowd got to a mass, with every class, poor in spirit not with it, and the rich in wellbeing, now seeing the judgmental error of their way, as to play ball with all is a Godly call not to stall. As a mass, now one class before the prophet, he preached telepathy within the spirit of being a hit, and not in the shit, as the Holy Ghost was a toast to boast with being a host in you mind, so you might find peace of mind in kind kindly nature to nurture with fervour behaviour not so graver in a wavour to saviour.

The prophet was a hit at giving out stick to those mindful of not being with-it, but having a shit mentality of a gravity to others, 'we are all sisters and brothers, so be lovers with each others. Lay your care laid bare, and do not stare in disbelief at what I preach, as we are al brethren, so don't punish a heathen for not believing in heavenly heaven, as they too are forgiven for being blind in their hind. We are all God's children, so LOVE our Father like no other, and assist Mother Nature, who is God's partner in blooming bloom'.

Grave Behave

 I raged in a delusional state,

Enough to recall and relate,

I was in a paranoia mentality - 

A dangerously grave gravity.

Passers by were hapless victims

Of my unruly behavioural sins

Of investigating my suspicions

Of my voices' miss directions.

But I always went on my way

To sing sorrows another day,

As my insane misconceptions

So raised unwanted attention's.

Off to the Ward, an imprisonment

Of unjust and needless punishment,

As the Nurse's don't have time of day

Constantly sending  you on your way.

Gripe Tripe

 You know, our Lord would have a might smite with third world plight,

Which is a gripe at what is not ripe with a hype of goodnight tripe,

As what is in sight is a might of gripe to what is out of sight

In plight with a gripe of what is not ripe I will type

So heed with greed to plant this seed creed

As to bleed without heed is to feed

Food for thought of an ought

Of surviving on nought.

We must aid the fight of third world not having tripe

With a might of smite at was and is not very right

And as I write, or type, I will hiss this gripe

Of out of sight plight of not having a bite.

Do you forbade in how we behave

Within the parameters of grave.

Unto Him Free Of Sin

 I love our Lord the most, but I love my Daughter more,

I can boast taking the Host within me the Holy Ghost

Driving me to satisfaction with our Lord a distraction,

As I act ever so Christianly with all and everybody

Who I might chance to meet, greet whereby I bleat

That to walk like Jesus' feet, can be a shining heat

Like a beacon in the sun for other to live with fun,

As what is become, to some, will curse using a gun.

I imagine Christ within me, guiding me sensibly,

As I am patriotic to a Christion land that is grand,

And I worship the Bible Belt in the United State

As it must be great to live amongst those u relate.

From being down and blue, I fly in the sky high

As a kite in our Lord's might without a goodbye.

A Lot Of I

 I have been mad in the past,

I was aghast at the odd fast,

I used to sadly starve myself

With deteriorating bad health;

I used to have scary delusions

With having lots of confusions,

I was so paranoid of everyone

That I thought of buying a gun,

But I did not as I am so humane

But thinking lame being insane.

I have been in hospital many a time,

I stayed there until I was feeling fine,

I was a nuisance with having bipolar - 

Up and down like a fast roller-coaster.

I was in a fighting mode, a bad sign

That I wasn't being Christianly kind.

I Am Who Can

 I was smitten with smite at our Lord's mighty, mightiful might, for in His night mare came a fright laid bare, as He was cursed to carry a cross like a hearse. I  hereby stand forthwith to hiss this not a bliss but a hiss. The Romans tortured him, because they stated he was sin, so they eventually put him in a bin, which was a cave, and the brave hearted from this the departed, had a rant and rave of how not to behave, a grave sin from His Jewish kin, as they were sinful, and pitiful, as they stoned females to lots of wails at these ails. Our Lord had a stiff-upper-lip, and was sick at the shit that came with equip to the whip by the tyranny of tragedy, a monopoly without the refrain from dishing out pain in the Emperor's name, to tame the mass of the lower class. So what come to pass left the poor aghast, as the Roman's past came to last for hundreds of years, to the crying of tears, at the lost peers, the hierarchy doomed to travesty, from mighty he, a roman who was certain of a place in humane race, accepting Christianity eventually, so all could see our Son shining, with their timing, of finding funding, for hymns to delightfully sing, as in building buildings to celebrate a love lost, now at a cost, for a host to boast of laying down not toast, but the bread and wine, to keep in time with my rhyme.

I fell in love with Jesus Almighty, when I was at my lowest, and He rose my spirits to heights I'd never imagined. I felt at peace, and became well for a long spell not thinking I am in hell, from being a sinner I was now a winner. I put down my sword, and praised the Lord, in a chorus throng of belong, as I loved Christians, and their nature, which did nurture me sensibly, and I became a devout follower of our Lord's nature. And I've emulated him since. I don't go to Church, as it's not my practise, but  I talk to Jesus in my mind, and through the telepathy of the Holy Spirt, I know my prayers grow, and sow a seed of my greed to feed the Trinity with my honesty. I used to be criminally inclined, but I repent, relent, and have remorse, regret and a conscience for my ill-gotten-gains. I'll do my preaching out of the Church, but still search for a Christian nature in everyone I meet, or greet, and evangelistic I will a right my wrongs in throngs of views to so choose that I am not a snooze with a bruise, but a devoted fan of I Am, which is a term for how God wanted to be called upon.

Refrain From A detain

 Cursing while I'm going downhill,

Malfunctioning with being very ill,

What is under scrupulous attention

Is the inevitability of some detention.

Locked away in a state of extreme worry,

Cursing - but not being a cowardly bully,

As staff have control of all of the ward - 

I fight with my mouth, and not the sword.

I sometimes get restrained for my ill-gain,

But I wont refrain from honour in I name

As I am gentlemanly  to both she and he

Who go about their business respectfully.

A needle with poison in for my arm

While I am trying to keep sanely calm,

I wobble slowly away to face my day - 

Staff now not distinguishing what  I say.

Who Am I

 Hurrying here, and scurrying there,

Ever watchful of people that stare

At a lunatic going about his business - 

And a person in deep, mental distress.

Trying to stay stable, in and out

Of a maddening, psychosis bout,

And I may be so madly inclined

To worry you out of your mind.

But I'm mindful of who I am and how to cope

As I'm also charitable to the aid of some hope

Of me being a gentleman with wise chivalry - 

I can also be quite humorous and quite witty.

I am a multitude of characteristics, an enigma,

Alters to cope with while suffering the stigma

Of being mentally insane, a reject of society

And a person of considerable sad notoriety.

Up And Down

 I am crazy at most times - delusional and dysfunctional - 

And can burst at the seams with strength beyond my means,

Walking everywhere, paranoid with being insanely irrational,

Tripping and imagining and worrying with what sadly seems.

I travel in a land of make believe, and stress at characters,

Inquiring  and asking what to make of them in my mind,

With uncertain wonderings and pondering of their natures,

To nurture negatively mean into being positively kind.

Kind enough to care, or mean enough to so stare,

And brave enough to confront me in battle mode,

But with my intentions and a sanity laid so bare

I plead with my reasoning mentality not to goad.

Heed the remanding fright to your plight of my might,

Or embrace I with sanctity and charity, with sincerity,

And I'll soften the blow, by being less alarming in sight

Using I whit as grit in times of shit of a lesser degree.

Keep Not Asleep

 I have just awakened from a deep, replenishing slumber from being under my covers. I am feeling tranquillity with being free from the mental health ward. I am so happy now, not experiencing an ow, as I have got seeds to sow, so you can go slow with a grow growing my philosophy, philanthropy, ecstatic ecstasy shared and cared for in our conceptional, exceptional reality!

I'll go and have a brew, cuppa, tea, hot drink, beverage, and I'll add milkshake milk with it so it is tastier from the 'norm', now born to not be scorn. I'll have cereal with a shake as well, similarly to Coco-Pops, of which I'm sure rice crispies would taste nicer with a milkshake platter. I'll bake some toast, and wonder what it is like. I will make some scrambled egg, and stir it, whisk it, mix it, lightly so the yoke can be seen heartedly, as I like a hearty breakfast.

I have just had my breakfast, and wondered about the origins of the word 'breakfast'? And it obviously comes from a Christianity source, as in to break a fast! Probably an archaic word from Monks or Nuns. What came first, tree, or treat? I think it is logic that the word 'tree' came first, and then a 'treat' was picking a fruit from a tree. It is not dissimilar to crime, and criminals. You can find logic in some essences in expressive expressions that express a prefix, then an added suffix.

If you think logically, you can find answers with this logical logic. Such as Joseph and Jesus were illustrated in the Biblical New Testament as being both carpenters, so logic would have they lived near wood sources, such as a forest, as transporting a tree back in Biblical times would have been a great effort. I used to think that Jesus lived in a barren land, but their were birds in the New Testament, so there must have been trees for them to nest in - and worms for them to eat. So from this logical logic, you can deduct that Jesus lived in lush surroundings. And in a plush environment, as joseph would have been earning a crust, from his carpentry, so Jesus would have been fed and had a comfy bed to lay down his head. And Joseph must have been a jew of influence, as Jesus got to read the scriptures, and only the hierarchy would have had the Holy Books. If you think logically, for a scribe to pen the Old Testament, it must have taken a great deal of time and effort, and he would have been praised with a payment for the duration of writing.

So use your own common-sense, when something seems to be pretence, and sit on a fence until you are sure of yourself with what you are analysing, researching, reading, looking, pondering, wondering, and thinking?

Try trial and error, a get to gather platter that can get fatter with batter? I emulate Jesus talking in parables, to make you think to the brink of sink or swim with Him? Have you tried baking scrambled egg, or baking it. Try adding compliments, such as cheesy scrambled egg, etc. That's what commerce companies do, such as we have cherry flavoured coke now, etc, honey flavoured whisky, etc. Use your own imagination, ingenuity, intellect, common sense, and if you don't like a produced product, discard it, but I'm sure children, kids, youngsters will, or mighty might, like milkshake in mashed potatoes. You could try mash made with no milk, but just with butter, cream, mayonaise, etc.

It's been enlightening. Until next time. Goodbye. Good bye. Farewell. Tra. Adios. Love love, Andrew.

Ace On Your Face

 

I wondered near and so very far,

I travelled to space, to our star,

And though we’re world’s apart,

But without it life wouldn’t be rife

With its overwhelming’s of strife,

As the stratosphere is so clear

With drowning out the hot rays

So we don’t burn on sunny days.

 

I think the stratosphere is so ace,

As it is the power of God’s pace

That the human race can so face

A Son tan that can leave a trace.

Mist in the sky’s can be a apt prize -

Opening up your eyes from disguise

 

Little Soldier

 Mother said that I was breaking a rule

Taking my toys into the primary school,

I wasn't bothered, I wanted to have fun

Squirting the water from out of my gun.

I put on my soldiers hat and went out to war,

Looking for Tubby Tucker to so settle a score,

The previous night he so had had to me done

A soaking from his fast shooting water gun.

I looked through the window at the classroom within,

Sally Swotter was there but there was no sight of him,

I looked in and near the dining room, his favourite place,

Lanky Liam was there so I duly soaked his long face.

I looked near the swings and he was not there,

Nitty Nora was though, so I soaked her hair,

Tubby Tucker this morning must be running late

So I sprinted to the bushes behind the school gate.

I saw Simple Simon simply coming my way,

It was easy to get him, so I gave him a spray,

Then all of a sudden my adversary walked past,

So instead of a spray, I gave him a long blast.

Surprised, and dripping wet, he looked my way,

Smiling - 'Revenge is sweet', I did happily say,

But just behind him came his mad, fuming mum

Cursing and shouting at what I had just done.

She took me to my Teacher who told me I was a disgrace,

For wetting Tubby Tucker's clothes and Lanky Liam's face,

And for spraying Simple Simon and soaking Nitty Nora's hair,

She called my Mother and sent me home - I did not have a care.

The Job Lot

 I have been through a hell of a lot,

Hardships that will not be forgot,

I want to run fast but can only trot

As I am lethargic with a pressure

Of sleepily feeling a shot measure,

My past is so hauntingly terrifying

With Doctors and Nurses prying

Into my affairs with a supplying.

I have a sad history of self-harming,

At times I've been gravely alarming,

Now I believe our Saviour is King

And the devil is powering the bling.

I do want to now live for my forever

With loved ones who I duly treasure.

Electricity Being A Gas

 There was a thunderstorm brewing, you could see the dark clouds in the distance, looking as gloomy as ever. Andy looked on in wonderment, and thought we need rain to sustain life, but I don't like the strife of electrifying killing, as it sometimes is fulfilling. After a pause of motion, he could hear the crackling cracking sound of the lightening strikes, and the booming noise of thunder, as if an alarming call to beware to those caught bare.

Andy kept his distance from the wrath of smite in the heaven's above, and thought of God's holy love, or loathe, as to weather or not to trot the rot of time forgot. He was smitten with awe at our Father's capability, and humbly knelt down to pray for forgiveness of his sins, and the whole world as a whole, as so few repented and far enough relented, as life can be brutal under the rule of Tyrants and criminals.

The time was ripe for God's plucking, as the clouds ventured forth, coming upon him what seemed in an  instant, and he thought of Hades and his powers, philosophised by the Greek's in their way of deeming a higher entity ability. He could see the rain before him, before it crashed down upon him, which he hoped would wash away his sins, like being baptised in the church, he hoped God's wrath was not upon him, but that his love was in him, and the Holy Spirit, God's telepathic comrade, would know his way of thinking, not all the time straight, as he had a scitty-scatty sense of reason. Yes he'd been a sinner in his adolescence, but he hoped he been forgiven for being a heathen, as Jesus testified so.

Lightening was crackling all around him, but he felt so far away from home with his roam, and he shouted up to God in the heavens above, 'I AM ALL ABOUT LOVE, NOT LOATHE. PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE AS I'M PRONE TO REPENT, AND I HAVE REMORSE, AND I HAVE A CONSCIENCE FOR MY TRANSGRESSING BEHAVIOUR SO GRAVER.' Then he felt stupid, as if there were a God, he would know his way of thinking before he even thought it? He thought of omnipresent, God's widespread quality, and felt ashamed for his unruly thoughts on the odd occasion, such as lusting over other females when he was a married a man! He cursed himself, then thought of God giving all species free will, and felt a comfort he was not alone, as there were many worse than him in our past, present, and duly in the future. 

He was walking fast now, with streams of water running down his exposed face. He was thankful he'd put his coat on before leaving his humble abode, a home from home, as he spent a lot of time looking after his elderly, frail Mother. He suddenly jumped in fear, as lightening struck close to where he was wayfaring. He thought again of God's power, for even just to create the weather was amazing, but for it to be deadly was a signpost of what could be His wrath and smite on us his subjects.

The rain poured down heavily, so much so he could barely see two metres ahead of him. He felt empathy for the blind and short-sighted subjects, and was Glad God hadn't made his eyes deteriated like those poor souls. He reminisced the bling, and had a blinding empathy for those lost souls, and wondered if in another lifetime, the past, and the future, if God would, could, should, bring them back into another existence on earth?

He remained deep in thought, and reasoned God was all about love, as we have our own free will to abide in our hide our own ride with pride or hide! He pondered the electricity in the clouds, and new clouds come from the thrashing sea, and the heat of the day evaperating it to expand upwards, and thought salt must be the overiding substance in clouds, and what power it is to carry a charge so powerful. He reasoned salt would probably make the best batteries, evidenced in the huge amount of charge charging over all in its wake forsake. Then he thought of the weight of the water, and instantly realised it is not vapour carrying such a heavy loaded burden, but must be gas? Then he thought most clouds aren't electrifying with lightening, but must still contain it. Then he thought of God's purpose to create lightening in clouds, and wondered if our bodies need electricity, as surely they must serve a purpose? He thought in depth, and ventured to running water in a household, that have an earth to prevent a shocking experience, and thought 'I wonder if electricity and gas are in a cell of water, so you don't get a shock, and that this cell is pierced in the body to release the charge. He got to thinking this theory in depth, and reasoned all food must contain electricity and gas, and thought God is absolutely amazing with our lives. He thought lightening a side effect, if you will, and couldn't escape it when clouds are so thick and dense?

I hoped you liked my philosophy in this posted piece. Perhaps cancer is not getting the right balance of gas and electricity in your body? Just a passing thought.

Thank you. Love God's Love, Andnew.

Six Of The Best

 I've been pondering

And also wondering

About reminiscing

My transgressing,

Not very appealing

My sad self-harming,

But also alarmingly

I had a mad ability.

Playing a game,

Not being lame,

I felt very insane - 

Was I Am to blame.

Check me a mate

So not too late.

I Bade I Am Afraid

 I chanced upon a spider small,

And here was me standing tall,

Looming over this little figure

Made him look a little bigger.

I fancied it was scary

With being so hairy,

And its legs were long

With eight the throng.

'Don't crawl up my leg'

I so despairingly said.

'Where do you reside

And cunningly hide.

'I often see you in my bath,

That isn't a humorous laugh,

As I do not want to get in

When you are there within'.

'Shoo, and go scurrying away,

Go and find some other prey,

As I am going out to so play - 

Please don't frightfully stay'.

Fright Of Night

 Peeking from my covers I look through the glazing

Where not long before the sun had been so blazing,

Slowly but surely it is becoming the dark night - 

The sun's gone away and now the moon is in sight.

Under my covers my fears they wont keep

As I cling to my teddy and try not to sleep,

I cower much more but I don't feel alright

As ghosts and ghouls can keep out of sight.

I sink much deeper into the safety of my bed

And try to remember what Daddy had said:

That Halloween's realism was all in my head,

But nevertheless, I'm still filled with dread.

At every staircase's groan and also every walls creek

I stir my dark hiding place and take a short peek,

I want Dad, I don't like being on my own in my room

Under the watchful gaze of the ever frightening moon.

A Ship-Hands Woe

 Ahoy, aho,

No place to go

To escape the cold.

Were I bravely bold

I would leave this wheel

To go to peel

The ice from my hands.

Ahoy, aho,

No place to go

To escape the cold.

Off to foreign lands

With the promise of the sun,

A story I was sold - 

I would have gladly not begun

If I knew the way was cold.

Ahoy, aho,

No place to go

To escape the cold.

We are still so far

From our glorious star

That visions of those

Hot sold shores

Lie buried under iced up pors.

Ahoy, aho,

No place to go

To escape the cold.

A Dog Like A Hog

 Kitty, a small pussy cat

Saw a mad prowling dog

Who was extremely fat

And looked like a hog:

The large dog was big,

And snorting like a pig

He ran and gave chase

Duly so at a slow pace.

Little kitty saw that

The large dog was fat

And slowly ran away

To continue her play.

She rescued herself

To remain in health.

Gravity Travesty

 A captain of shipment to be delivered from his vessel headed to port. He asked a ship-hand to give him a hand with steering in the right direction, as he often made mistakes with his navigating skills, resulting sometimes as a deterrent to getting to port. He was in high spirits, as he'd just had a hearty drink of port, more than a quart which wasn't expected. The ship-hands name was misconceived at times, as it was difficult to remember, so he took it on the chin and learned to 'put up, and shut up', as he was only a low-life, so he took this strife in his life and looked forward to some sense from his wife, who would be expecting him on the morrow, devoid of sorrow if he made it from A to B, then B to A, alive and fighting fit.

The captain steered the deck-hand to the navigational chart, and enquired of him if was heading for sorrow on the morrow? The ship-hand had a look at the graph, then had a laugh, as it was surpassed in time and date, as it was dated, a date of fate left too late to debate, as their was only one path on the graph, from port to the island of England. He registered it in his mind, and thought things through, and reasoned the deep blue sea on the graph was a travesty in accountability, as he could barely see it's lineage in dots.  He looked up to the heavens, and past his gaze on a full moon, were the charts he was accustomed too. He reminisced this bliss of stars shining brightly over a clear blue sky, and pondered in wonderment at its merry-ment, as he too had had a few shots of liquor, which now swayed his thoughts like the ship rocking from side to side. He took a long hardy look into the heavens, and reasoned with this tell that the swell of the tide will subside by the time they got to port, so they'd have to abort docking, unless you were swimmingly in the good books of the captain, joining him in the only small life boat that was abored.

After looking at the stars one more time to make up his mind in which way to travel, he reasoned that the moon was a dead planet, and probably had no gravitational pull on the planet? As he remembered the tide rising in the heat of the sun in summer, so the moon was not in sight in the respects of night, so he quickly answered the captain, and relayed what had played on his mind in-kind, that if someone were to walk on the moon, they probably need anchor's on their feet. He told the captain his philosophising wisdom, then deemed everyone a fool, for thinking the moon a tool, just like the heresy of thinking the earth flat? But he took it light-heartedly, and thought its the stupid technocrats who are like bats - blinded with common sense. And he reasoned that so many people take for granted idiotic philosophies, such as prophesies, that we are all blinded with thinking it through, as we accept it set-in-stone.

The captain praised his highly high intellect, and mad e him an able seaman. He looked at the compass, and said to the captain to head for the North West, which was the best journey to take as in it's wake wasn't to take, as the waters would be calm, and not leaving it late, they could not forsake the ache of this take.

 You know it is a proven fact that the moon travels further from the earth every year, one centimetre. As that measurement coinciding with our crust getting thicker in time. So you could measure the depleting gravitational pull subsiding. Just a thought. We get tides in the day time, so how can it be the moon that drives it? I think it is the earth spinning around that determines the tides.

Thank you for your time. Love love, Andrew.

Forgiving Beckoning

 Come back from where you went

And adhere to this beckoning cry,

Of time so inconsiderately spent

Being an adulterous pig in a sty.

What about the vow's you made

And my welfare amongst mockery,

That I am too feeble and so fade

Into a background of crockery.

Am I a ball and chain of hindrance,

And are you master of my destiny,

I wont put up with this severance

Of love to sad servitude prosperity.

 You were an eyeful of pride

And a joy to proudly behold - 

So repent and quietly subside

This humiliating, sad scold.

My love is still warm within

And my forgiveness is ripe - 

So please get rid of this sin

And come to me in the night.

Make love to I under the moon

And caress my worries away,

Do not seal my tomb of gloom

Calling on this temptress to play.

Cuddle me in your motions

And gyrate next to I curves

And let's mix our emotions

In a sea of washing waves.

Heathen Stephen

 Stephen Hawking thought through the big bang,

It is just a theory not as of  yet been so proven,

But it will stand the best of time he so sang

And black holes with evidence given

Regardless of not encountering

One or many personally =

Just a theory

Of nearly.

I have thought what might have caused his analysis,

A hiss of stagnant water turning into poison gas,

With a pressure of a measure of timely bliss,

With matter drying to dust to pass

A blast of a spark from the dark

Creating our creation lapse

Not dissimilar from ark

That passed.

Have you ever encountered a poisonous pond, it wreaks of a big stink to my think static water turning into gas caused the mass to pass creating heavenly heaven. Two bricks rubbing together creating a spark, caused this monstrous abnormality ark of planets. As the water evaporated, it depleted from drowning the matter, and it dried, causing matter to dry. Nebuli and other hot gas and hot matter creates planets.

A Burning Dire

 Have you ever been on fire

With your power of desire,

Making decisions of choice

And not raising your voice

Barking out sensible order

Within ranks of disorder,

A terrible way to sadly go

If your thinking is so slow.

You can tire when running,

So feeling fatigue sweating,

Thinking so conservatively

Of your bodies apt ability.

Undeniably have apt sense

By not feeling so very tense,

Tire Retire

 I have been thinking of retiring, as I am at an age of aging. I was driving my thoughts in ponder at yonder, and as I wander I ponder what lays on yonder. Roads are so unroadworthy, with pot holes and repair everywhere, and what is laid bare is not fair to pedestrians care.

I philosophised staring in our eyes, as tyre's would make the perfect road worthy roads. You could put grip on them and lay them in segments for replenishing. And make them fire proof, so as not to alarm the harm of calm. Vehicles wouldn't skid, and would stop quicker with treads being thicker. If I ever had any influence, I'd have cars drive faster, with a choice, with pedestrians going under or over roads, with crazy drivers driving their thoughts of oughts. Just food for thought,

You know, in Britain, it is illegal to drive under the influence of weed. The lads I know on it don't heed this with a greed so still speed moderately, as most have families as passing passengers taking extra care with their careful care. What I've experienced, is you concentrate more when you score, and also you are not a bore with a chore, as you are pacified with the ride in your hide. I don't know about the law in America and Canada with driving under the influence of  cannibis? But like I've stated, it's over rated. I would like to know the research behind don't drive if you are buzzing like a hive of bees in ecstatic ecstacy? No doubt some stupid technocrat who hasn't done his;/her research delving into the concept of feeling after scoring.

Will She Come To Be With Me

 Will my next partner

Have a pleasant nature,

And will she nurture

Loving love from me

So we can both so be

Happily happy in glee.

She'll respectfully see

I have sincere sincerity.

I am patiently waiting

For apt romantic dating,

I would be a Gentleman

Hoping she'd be a fan.

She would come to find

I have now a sane mind.

Who Will She Be

 I am so pining for a Lady

Treating me respectfully,

I am passionately inclined

To a honey who is refined,

I hope she'll act Christianly

To share with me sensibility

Of being meek, and to care

About being a generous pair.

Who is so searching for me

Looking for companionship

So within a loving courtship

That offers some positivity.

I like a nice Lady to impress

By wearing a beautiful dress.

Hype In Fright Tonight

 I got frightened to death once when my alter was playing up,

They told me comets came from God who was in the nebuli,

Trying to communicate with Mother Nature with how to try,

Who had lost her telepathy ability to converse to her up high.

My voices mimicked me speaking to this higher entity,

And God spoke in my mind with a mind hauntingly

Stressing of my previous transgressing depressing,

So my faculties were maddening with suppressing

My not familiar to my brother quite often sobering.

My entity not me punched me repeatedly in face

For my criminality against humane human race,

So not soothing was this bruising from cruising

Waving goodbye to me a pig in a sty fuming.

Andrew Stevenson 28,06/24

We Exist From Mist

 A NASA scientist was thinking about life, and he thought about the strife of losing a life in a shipment of crew, to which they were all blue with who! Is it safe in a spaceship, and what crashes at the tip? He philosophised and theorised that the stratasphere they fear on returning to a burning cremation in creation. He thought in depth, and realised a flame to refrain their blame of being humane is a trend of particles of iceacles that permeate what we hate, a crashing thrashing opposed to a splashing crashing!

He wondered where the origins of water came from. He reasoned earth was like the sun to start with, which is logic with our core underneath, with flowing lava. So why hasn't the sun cooled into a crust yet, an he reasoned it's because of its shear size, and it might contain nuclear fission, which is as of yet a nuclear enigma to scientists, and earth doesn't contain fission - or does it? He couldn't reason for sure, it was just a theory. And he thought that lava flows, so must contain  water, as how could a solid flow? He reasoned its existence in lava, and theorised that water in lava is trapped in a sphere, and can not escape its surroundings, trapped until lava surfaces. He marveled at the versitility of lava and water, as every thing on our planet comes from it both, versatile. He thought about gasses, and its source - water. Isn't life amazing he thought, as every living thing comes from lava and water. He wondered about the ozone, and  how it came to exist, but was thankful it did, as it kept our precious water trapped on on planet.

Water From Lava

When a rocket plumets down unto earth,

It can not very often be a mortal hearse,

Not dissimilar to a funeral's sad verse.

A flame thrower at the tip of the ship

Would not be a hit to a wife being sick,

As ice particles then would be a wick.

They could leave antennas on the way

To other planets to discover I do so say,

Like stepping stones to instantly play.

A video recorder sends images back,

Water comes from lava they track,

So Mars was once without a sack.

We have an ozone in our stratesphere,

Which we should applaud in apt cheer

As it keeps us still crying in some fear. 

Andrew Stevenson 28/06/2024

The Word Heard

 I like the word 'paradox', and 'piecemeal',

As when you make an abridgement

It encompasses a way to feel,

As in an a sentiment.

Are all 'metaphor's' a paradoxical

Statement of some appeasement,

And is an analogy a hidden fable,

And is a parable food for a table.

A terse verse is a hearse

Curtailing a duck aptly sailing

Which 'Charles Dicken's' wrote first

Influenced by our Lord's parables enabling.

Andrew Stevenson 28/06/2024

A Fat Man Who Can

 Batman is a big fictional character,

Saving people was in his apt nature,

Gangsters he would fight and capture

With his sidekick Robin his partner,

They'd both duly so bravely weather

Gangsters coming fighting together,

Organised and criminally inclined

To worry the public out of a mind.

To care and share with a pear

Is being peachy to the needy,

As lots of them stand and stare

At the rich being more greedy.

So many of the poor suffering

Will not having a life of bling.

Andrew Stevenson 13/11/2018

A Plight In Sight

 Chance, Luck, fate and also lot

Can decide what you have got,

The homo-sapien vessel ride

Is wanted so within every hide,

As species would want to be us

Because we can so lend a hand

To the hellish land of sad sand

That is barren and out of hand.

On the double can so be trouble

As you are not thinking straight,

Having a tipple can be a double

Or running at speed a duration.

Are you feeling apprehensible

To asking for some supplication.

Cheeky Chops In Crops

 I made a strong cup of coffee, filled with milkshake,

I  heated it up in the microwave, so correctly timed,

It was fulfilling in its wake, as I aptly took it to take, 

I made a sandwich, and thought that it wasn't sublime

So I took out its contents and ate it entirely on its own

So the filling was fulfilling to my appetite now in time.

Eating so much bread is now dead in my thought head,

And when I do eat it I have it on its own  I have sown[

The filling separately so the sandwich is more bread

And more filling to the fulfilling of a new homegrown.

Have a butty separately from the filling for fulfilling

A winning speciality novelty especially now prone,

I buy a packet of ham, and eat it like meaty spam,

As I am prone to eat it on its own like homegrown

Turkey or chicken, on a plate, to entirely so I can

Feed my appetite with a might of flavour behaviour

As we have taste buds in our cheeks as well as tongue

So eat with filling your mouth entirely so to saviour

This behaviour to so not wavour this fill of graver.

Try swilling a drink in your mouth, and taste with your cheeks. When eating a meal, fill your mouth right up, and tastier taste. It also saves scooping your food constantly.

Nonsense In Suspence

 Donald Trump is not a breath of fresh air

As his stink is in the breeze without a care

For all the females in ail drinking some ale

And looking sadly frail and also deathly pale

From living a life so sadly in unwise denial,

As it is a trial for lots of some bd judgement

For him to reside as the United States President

Which to many is a travesty with resentment.

A white paper can illustrate an amendment,

We need to amend the trend of punishment,

As some sex-offenders get off quite easily

With fulfilment of fulfilling a bad fantasy.

We need to lead the way so they don't stray

Another day to victimise children at play.

Andrew Stevenson 10/11/2018

In The End A Friend

 The Roman's conquered all over,

They abided by terrible torture,

Many were a hostile Governor

With tyranny their sad answer,

But in the end they did discover

To dutifully be a Christian lover

Treating man as a nice Brother

And having respect for a Father.

They built many an amphitheatre

Playing games with bad behaviour,

As their mentality was oh so graver

With those slaves who were braver.

Love God and our Lord our Saviour

And love Their love with apt fervour.

How did the roman's travel about in ships without a compass? I think they mapped out coasts, and saw Britain from France. Similarly Africa.

Andrew Stevenson 10/11/2018

Heed With Greed

 I awoken from my slumber from being on yonder in my dreams. I went downstairs and prepared my breakfast - milk shake over my cereal. I made a cup to tea, previously being a cup of coffee. Why wash a cup up if it's going to be filled up. A little bit of coffee is going to be drowned out with tea, so I could only be tastier with get better. I made some toast, and left it to go stale, as I like it to be crunchy like a munchy. I eat my cereal and really enjoyed the shake in it. I thought about tea, and their many types, and thought if I want a blackcurrant tea flavour, why don't I just add a splash of my own. And I wondered what would coffee taste like with milk shake. So I made one and it was nice, heated up in the microwave. Then I  thought of microwave meals, and thought of my family gathering with me. Why don't they make family microwave meals, enough to feed four, five, or six or more. I thought why don't they make microwaves bigger, enough to cook for more. With the power in every corner to heat up better. Then I thought why don't they add a cooler, so when your meal is ready, it's edible straight away. Then after I ate my breakfast, I thought why wash the bowl up, when I'm going to have another meal in it latter on. Stale food is not infectious i thought. Then I thought about germs, and most water carries a minute bit of food, to feed microscopic creatures, and that's the stain that we gain. So if  you don't clean  your toilet for a while, the stains are not germs, but food for thought. And while germs exist, they are in a minority to the food quantity. Blessing to  your sweet -selves.

Jam can be a nice filling in tea, etc. Lots of different flavour to savour and not wavour.

Authority Is A Minority

 I am running in extreme slow motion,

With the moral of an upstanding notion

That to be without stress is a congress

Digest at what's respectfully the best.

Technocrats seem to have Cart-Blanche

Over the general populace in a sad trance

Of them not being able to see being free

As they are not experiencing tranquillity.

We roam from home, sometimes alone,

And are prone to be fearful and tearful

At what is in sight, a plight in sad flight

Of a governing hype of the poor''s gripe.

Come around, and duly with your wide vision

See so with precision the sad suffering derision

Of those in a positive position of high influence

Being grave in how they behave in negligence.

Cap This Rot Not Forgot

 Capitalism is not really very good,

Many are greedy with the poor needy,

Business is not going as it aptly should

With the wealthy staying richly healthy,

And the poor knowing the score of score

Regardless of facing many a closed door,

And as a Utopian Communist I  will hiss

This low percentage of living in bliss.

A kiss and tell hell of not being well

Is high with the cry of living in a sty,

When softening the blow is down below

To die trying to buy what others show.

So many in our World are poor in spirit

Ruled over by capitalist's not worth it.

Application Supplication

I like to be wisely creative,

Being so highly productive

In what I am so expressing

Without too much stressing.

My family aptly look after me,

And hopefully and respectfully

I will honourably be to he/she

A person of integrity popularity.

Am I a sight so worth saving now

With where, why and who and how.

I can express myself with a wealth

Of nurturing my health with stealth.

I am on my own at the moment,

And looking back to the present

I am blinded by my past, to last

In aghast of ghosts that did pass. 

On Show Below

 I  have plenty of ghosts in my closet that haunt myself, they are quite frightening with their haunting, which is now a chilling fright when I sleep at night, dwelling in my hag-ridden dwelling from thought thoughts. I am prone to moan and groan when In my wake is the forsake with what I  take and have taken.

I take a pill because  I am ill, but to instil a thought of being caught out by a lout who is in and out of a consciousness to grin and beware of his stare at  yourself laid bare? I fell in love with life when I was born, I instantly loved my new family, with me now at the bottom of the tree waiting patiently to grow so I can sow a seed or two your way in the form of for to play with a lay. In lay mans terms, I am against abortion, which I abhor this untimely score, as so many can't conceive and grieve a nieve female who is a lout on ale, a pale of her former-self in health.

We should all respect our lives, as we are a Godly given risen from his true-self conquering the questioning. Eve eat an apple, and was all wise and knowledgable, with able to walk and talk and stalk a stalk, to fill your appetite with insight of fight, flight, plight, hype, gripe, wipe away to converse until in a hearse?

Adam was a decent manly man, who called Eve Mam, and with will and can he covertly covered up so God would shut up, as they were on view with nakedness, so Eve left a leaf on his brief grief and made him chief of a thief, his son who stole a life leaving them in strife about life, with its spoils of being ill for a thrill at the until next time in rhyme within the time you are available to will with  your ability.

A Tremor Of Endeavour

 I've been contemplating life

With all of its suffering strife,

And we are a wealth of health

Populating the world in stealth.

Over time, we have come to be

The popular species to see and be - 

Who is under scrutiny popularity

And are they acting respectfully.

We look up to peers, and are perfectly able

To so adhere to their cheer of near and dear,

And to put on a show of glow with the know

That the y give a little from a lot - insincere.

Going Bravely on

D-day landings were a success,

Our brave troops were blessed

With having more and not less

Of ammunition, arms to stress

The enemy in a game of chess:

With no mates to make a move

Their fate was to heavily lose - 

An option they did not choose.

Our soldiers were so very patriotic

With many being in the thick of it

During times of the enemy's shit,

But they had themselves to blame

Following Hitler who was insane

Playing so an unruly game of gain,

 

An Honour

 To be immortalised with words can be an apt honour,

As it can keep your memory alive after you're a goner,

And to appreciate a nice kindly word or two your way

Is a positive and justly way to play without any delay.

Cell Swell Knell

 I went for a walk in the misty park,

It was eerie because it was dark,

I could hardly see as it was blurry

But on hindsight I could still see

A visionary insight inside of me.

I felt permeated in deep thoughts

As I was permeating an ought

Of bleeding inside while caught.

It was hot like our sunny shine,

Which rose my spirits to pine

For a rainbow in the morning 

Light, but I was still left mourning.

Sorry to be cryptic in my verse

But it's to think things in terse.

Stolen Child

 

A Short Story

I was walking with my glasses on, liking it in the shade of cover from the forest trees, that were blooming their wealth of flowers. I picked a rose, and enjoyed its scent. I love being amongst nature i thought, then felt silly as I always have. A rabbit darted past, and I felt sorry for its sad existence, as it doesn't venture far from its burrow. I felt sorry for it, and prayed a prayer that life can sometimes not be fair. I ventured into a perspective, and felt the more sorrow for the rabbit's tomorrow of still continuing sorrow. I had my dog with me, keeping me company, and playfully she chased the creature. But it's in their nature from Mother Nature, a sad and bad type of torture. then i got to thinking again, and philosophised that life is cruel to some species. Moths are bread for food, just like plankton feeds the fish that feed bigger prey. and I felt a solice that i am a human, the top of the food chain, with a lot to gain, because I am on the top, and sometimes I trot to an empathy forgot  by this rot.

I got home, and felt alone, regardless of my pet with me. I made a strong cup of coffee, two heaped spoonfuls, so it tasted like a roast, and then I made some toast, but let it stand the test of time, so it was crunchy munchy. But I hardly have any teeth, so out of reach but a peach is what I preach to teach. I sat down with a frown of fooling around, as I had a drink which made me think of the stink that comes with it, as in to lose your faculties is a hindsight of mighty might out of sight plight of flight gripe. But I am on my own, apart from my pet, who with regret, still chases a comforting petting, then not fretting regretting, but appeasing pleasing. I made a cup of tea, and thought why should i wash that cup, when a fill up is just the same, so i stayed tame to this game of refrain. I thought of space, and thought it ace, as with a pace it is expanding in a race, but chasing itself. i further philosophised, and wondered where did it matter the origins of water, and what is beyond space for it to fill more? baffling. where did it all come from to exist? baffling. I spoke to my pet of the regret of not knowing? And she was oblivious of my intentions of superstitions.

A Flood Of Tearful Admiration

Cheryl is aptly considered the sweet-heart of the nation,

And as a resident I so agree with this media consensus,

She is a princess more than a royal, as in supplication,

And raises many a shared smiles that are unpretentious.

She has a delicacy of trustworthy beauty to savour,

And once tasted I was left with a palatable yearning

To converse her sincerity to all who might so favour

Intellectual guidance with a morality worth learning.

She has humble roots which have sprouted to fame,

Which have blossomed and bloomed in modesty

To others of a similar background, who might gain

Imparted wisdom with gentle words of generosity.

Cheryl is an idol to many and a goddess of fashion,

And struts her curves to my chivalrous applause,

She is an icon worth emulating with seeded passion

To sow, grow and flow with apt benevolent cause.

Andrew Stevenson 22/02/2014 

Exodus

 He shouts in letter-box and knocks on the door,

Sweating, shaking hurriedly wanting to score:

The sun is shining, but not in his sorry face,

No radiance there - only sad criminal disgrace

A patient he so is, calling to the dealer's surgery

Seeking medication that does not come cheaply:

You are at the finishing line of your cold race,

Come on through, just one more pace to taste.

Now you are in I will take your hand

And lead you to your promise land,

Come on forward and don't look back,

Now you're here you're back on track.

I'll open up my stash of cocaine-crack;

Your promised land heroin like sand.

Andrew Stevenson 19/03/2017

Heroin Addicts

 I'm sitting on a chair, facing the bedroom door,

My head in the clouds and my chin on the floor;

Eat the bread and drink wine from the holy cup

If I don't come back down from going on high up:

That fiery host would be my ultimate sad winner

Because of my life of being a sad, sinful sinner.

Coming back around, something the dealer said,

I was nearly dead he said from being off my head.

He's King of his castle, there's no doubt about that,

Lording it over everyone who enters his small flat.

Draped in silver and gold he thinks he is just fine

With his plush surroundings of silk and also pine.

But he still wears that label - that label like mine

Of being a raging junkie for a long durational time.

To Eva Cassidy With Love And REgret

The devil picked you Eva, a beautiful rose, and cursed you with his seed,

In your innocence with your blossomed life blooming grew his evil deed,

Yet if he had known your soul he would have been beautifully entranced,

Then instead of causing your death, with your life he might have danced.

A waterfall of mournful tears of regret will forever meet the cost

Of your mortal body taken and a radiant beauty eternally lost,

Which can be seen the world over in your smiling Songbird face - 

An immortal image captured of Mother Nature's nurtured grace. 

 You've now conquered your rainbow and are now its gold

Singing mediated, harmonious tunes that were so foretold

From inspirations to aspirations that hairs can stand on end

By all who feel and love you so - an ever increasing trend.

Our hearts are your Holy Grail, in our love your vocals bloom like flowers in spring,

Melodic echoes of high and low pitches resonate there when you so beautifully sing.

You're in our veins Eva Cassidy, permeating our whole being, a pure addiction sold

Where the high is your enchanting, celestial voice singing melodies before untold.

The air you breathed is still with us, it now rides the gentle breeze - 

Whispering through the forests you loved and surfing the waves of seas'.

And wherever the breeze may wonder, or the tempestuous wind can roam,

You can still be heard - from the rustling leaves to the thrashing ocean foam.

Andrew Stevenson 30/10/2017

Fighting Back With A Rap

Jay Z is a gentleman, and conducts himself sensibly and appropriately, and has a symphony of characteristics: he disregarded womanising by romanticising Beyonce, which plucked her heart-strings with the bling's of love, as he is platinum when it comes to a companion, and is a wealth of gold for her to lovingly hold, which symbolises that he is glowing in blowing a tuneful rap, that is respectful, and not neglectful, as she is a lady with a morality of standing, and has an understanding of environmental upbringing. He has an empathetic care to stare back at the Ghetto, and is sick at the stick that comes with it, that beats a drum of bleats so glum, as lambs are led to slaughter, a gospel truth of patient growth, and he doesn't like the brass in some in some hood's pockets, who tap into rap to pile their crap of emptying their sack, he is not derogatory to femininity, and his masculinity is an art apart to reap an apple cart of female pride. Hi

His demeanour oozes modesty, and his words are humble, and with a grumble he expresses the concrete jungle, which can be heard in his lyrics, and felt in his sorrow, as where is the hope for the poor when the political score is beg, steal or borrow to see you into tomorrow, as poverty is rife, and prosperity booms away from these tombs that lock up many a resident in their home, and lots are are tearful and alone, and some are fearful and prone to carry a gun, as the dwelling of a wondering of a bruising while wayfaring in the heat of the street must be nerve-racking.

Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017

The reference to apples is indicative of wisdom, from an Adam and Eve sense.

A Star With Might

 Beyonce holds palms of hands with devoted fans, and they embrace her traits of compassion, and feel sincerity in her gentle warmth, which is expressed in her genialness and their happiness: goose-bumps play along with her song of worldly belong, which tease with the ease of her tuneful breeze.

She floats on stage flying in a sea of arms waving, with some crying, and others craving to touch her reciprocally with sensitivity, as she is a Lady in all of her demeanour, which they savour, and she takes them to her realms of euphoria, with some hysteria, as she is a goddess with prowess, who struts her shapely curves, and notes from a throat of worth, and enchants us in her fashion and passion.

An intellectual with a voice to be heard, with a sound word to play in our ear, that sings along with a chorus throng, as she embraces a mass of the lower class, who are equal in many respects, and have hope in her scope of equality, as she, like many of we, has humble roots, which have grown and sown other seeds of worthy creeds, as she is Christianly in morality, and her values are a sanctity, shared and cared for in our conceptual reality.

Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017

A Tune In My Room

 I'm listening to Rihanna

The superstar pop singer,

She is tunefully in tune

With her voice in bloom,

I like her R&B groove

Which soothes my mood,

I've got on a mega-mix

Featuring all or her hits.

I think she is beautiful,

And she is aptly fruitful

In a palatable tasty taste - 

She's elegance with grace.

I like her sense of fashion

That she wears with passion.

 Andrew Stevenson 01/07/2018

A Superstar So Far

I'm listening to Rihanna

The superstar pop singer,

She is so a sight to savour

With her sexy behaviour,

Some videos are explicit

And I think she is so fit,

Her tracks to me are a hit - 

None of them being shit.

The Only Girl In The World

Who dates the odd Rude Boy,

I like her on the bed curled

Acting quite naughtily coy.

Rihanna is so very fanciable

As she's incredibly beautiful.

Andrew Stevenson 07/01,2019

 

Shakira

 Golden locks draw you in to a focal point smile, that spreads wide with a pride

Of conversing charitable needs, and rightly and justly so, with insight to know

That to aptly teach wisdom of a morality of standing is noble and honourable,

And to have an understanding attitude brings gratitude from masses of classes.

Small in height, but large in stature, with hips that shake and sway in a way

To capture your attention, with the intention of marketing her tuneful singing,

But with a mind to aptly share, with a care for others as Sisters and Brothers,

As to be Christianly is Godly, and to offer a hand in her homeland is grand.

A figure to desire, and a must is to lust as she is so sultrily sexy,

But her charms are alms in visionary sight, as she aids the plight

Of Columbian gripe, that can be out of sight, but heed her need

To feed those less fortunate without the greed of sowing seed.

Glowing With Singing

Rihanna's a star who shines,

She is a glowing beacon sign .

To steer you in her direction

As she is a singing sensation.

She has graceful movement

That needs no improvement,

As she is blessed with more

With humble roots being poor,

She is a honey with money

And is duly beautifully sexy,

I'm impressed with her dress

That shows more and not less.

I so like to listen to her music

With various songs to so pick.

Being Open

 Sometimes in a relationship you clash with some mind set differences,

And you can accommodate the other with a love to put aside your preferences,

But this can eat you up inside as you swallow your pride to hide your true-self

And you can be thoughtless in your mindfulness of carefulness in quiet stealth;

But take notice of democratic divorces, and their sad mortality rated health.

Catching A Star

Nicole Swarzinger is a Pussy Cat Doll with apt class, and worthy of gentlemanly attention, 

And while she struts her fine curves, this serves to draw us in with some mindful retention,

As she has a figure bulging with refinement taste, and her fashion is not a passion to waste,

And her glossy appearance is an adherence, as beneath this paste is thoughtfully nice grace.

She has a meek character of standing, and speaks gentle words that duly penetratingly soothe,

A respectful paradox that clashes with her sweet voice singing lyrics with a provocative groove,

But she is duly the host of both, and conducts herself in a musical parody to toast and also cheer,

Which we like and love with some appreciation, as this supplication is wonderful to see and cheer.

Long black hair drapes her face, silk threads that glisten, reflecting a shine to mirror,

And when she moves this bounces with flare, brushing on her cheeks that smoulder,

And red embers glowing under a smooth skin smoking hot, that can flush and blush

With a shy hush, as she is coy, in the sense of some pretence, of a shush of our lust.

A Star Shining Brightly

Beyonce holds palms of hands with devoted fans

And they duly embrace her traits of compassion,

Seeing sincerity in her gentle and caring warmth - 

Expressed in her genialness and their happiness;

She performs on stage with a sea of arms waving,

With some fans crying with lots of others craving

To touch her reciprocally with some sensitivity.

She takes fans to realms of euphoria,

With a mass of heightened hysteria,

As she is a goddess with apt prowess

Strutting her fine and shapely curves.

She is a singing and dancing sensation

Oozing sex appeal in some flirtation.

She's innovative in how she is creative

Resulting in imaginative stage shows;

Where she shines and brightly glows

With her passion and nice fashion.

The fans move to her R&B groove

And sing along to her popular songs;

Poetry in motion with their devotion

And Beyonce's singing supplication.

A Bright Star

 Lady Gaga has an extreme idiosyncrasy style, and is supreme in her eccentricity on screen, as seen in her videos and shows, where she releases laudable erotica, to a mania hysteria of devout male followers in droves, and as she parades in her skimpy clothes, we come out of our closets, in the sense of no  appetence. 

She is aplomb in her posture and stature, and with nurture takes this to heights of sights, which is ripe for plucking by us watching, as she is innovative in how she is creative, and once related, we are sated with her essence, especially with her ingenuity. Her popularity is a testament to her transcendent prudence in supplication perseverance.

Idiosyncrasy denotes: quirk, a way of behaving, thinking, and feeling that it is peculiar to an individual or group, especially an odd or unusual one.

Eccentricity denotes: a quality of being unconventional, especially in a whimsical way.

Laudable denotes: admirable and worthy of praise.

Erotica denotes: art or literature intended to arouse sexual desire by portraying sex in an explicit way.

Appetence denotes: a desire or longing for something.

Aplomb denotes: confidence, skill, poise, especially in difficult or challenging circumstances.

Sated denotes: to satisfy completely someone's hunger or some other desire.

Transcendent denotes: superior in quality or achievement.

Prudence denotes: having good sense in dealing with practical matters.

Supplication denotes: something someone can do for someone else.

Being Graceful Is Beautiful

 Kylie is so beautiful

And so very graceful,

As she is so a pleasure

In a viewing her measure.

She flaunts her fine body

As she is a sweet-honey;

She has a shapely figure

Which male fans savour.

She so has a nice sweet voice

Duly singing songs of choice,

Her melodies so suitably flow

With tunes that suitably grow.

From up early to time for bed

I can't get her out of my head.

To Be Or Not To Be

 

I Am A Believer

 

Sane And Able But Vanished

 

Him To Himself

 

Overdosed

 

Appreciate Reiterate

 Appreciate Reiterate

 

I wandered as lonely as a snow cloud

And flaked out all over earth’s beauty,

And so covered what could be proud

So like that drowning swollowing sea.

 

Drown in existant hardship sorrows,

A long hard breath until the bitter end –

That Mother Nature humbly swollows

As our procreating, breast aching friend.

 

Reach up high and taste the apple of life,

A bitter-sweet reprisal for insane strife,

That reapes its sown earthly, manly crop

Of blood sucking breath not duly forgot.

 

Philosophise a remedy for apt harmany,

And wish for heaven from hell on earth,

And so embrace and nurture a friendship

With others who also suffer a hardship.

Being I

 Look through my eyes, what do you see - 

A vision of beauty that is myself in me,

I see your memoirs depicting heaven

that you thought I was luckily seven.

Enter my way of thinking emersed,

And you will find a temper cursed, 

As a hearse verse is terse swelling

of misconceiving my believing.

Use my body, a heart of art

Not world' s far apart,

A very good start.

In an apple cart.

Use my hand

and touch you

From being blue

And I will bless you.

Walk in me and run a trot

Like a horse having a hot shot

Who might run short in the spirit

But blessed with  a decanter with it.

A Princess Lost, A Saint Gained

A Princess Lost, A Saint Gained

Lady Diana was a metaphorical princess before she became a matrimonial one, because she loved others, and so was loved by others. She was not nurtured by the Royal Family to display great characteristics, it was already in her nature. Her personal roots were firmly embedded in caring for others, which was partly evidenced in her nursery position. Prince Charles plucked a true English rose, whose seed blossomed and bloomed in many of our appreciative minds.

Initially she excelled in her position, and became the focal point of the Royal Family, and not just for her graces, but also for her vulnerability. It was a paradox that many of us felt empathy in how the media relentlessly conducted itself in her pursuits, as we also liked to be kept updated with her life and style.
 

She became a fashion icon, and seemed to revel in this recognition, but transparency did not prevail and many of us were blinded by our own selfish interests of loving too much of her, as behind closed doors she was suffering in silence, and was being told to 'put up' and 'shut up', regardless of her torment. The psychological pressures of the constant media attention, and little consoling comfort, rendered her at times to look withdrawn from functional life! What many of us thought was a magical fairy tale existence, was in reality Diana’s Halloween, as she was surrounded by spooks and scary make-believe characters.
 

Regardless of this predicament in her circumstance, she soldiered on, and battled with her distress, and waged war on lots of other causes of suffering, and fought for major changes that would save many people from becoming innocent victims, particularly in some third world countries, such as Nigeria, where reckless armies were indiscriminately planting mines where the general public roamed, and issuing out corporal punishment within their own populaces to silence any raised voices.
 

Diana experienced suffering, and so had a keen eye to notice it around her, regardless of proximity! She acted upon this, and capitalised on her position and standing to become a true advocate of peace, and not just diplomatically, but personally, as she often ventured to aid many man-made victims in hospitals, etc. She comforted people with real empathy, and her consoling tears of understanding cleansed many perceptions that the West did not care. She fought the impoverished disgrace, which nourished our ‘food for thought’ with pace.
 

And so, despite being elevated to great heights, Diana lowered herself with a depth of humbleness, and became not just a socialite of the aristocracy, but also of the people, and seemingly with deference. She laid a firm foundation of charitable deeds for Princes William and Harry to build upon – and any other persons of influence to affect a positive change. She was an inspiration worth emulating, regardless of stature.
 

A class taught, can be a lesson learned. Heights sought, can be humbly earned. Selfless thought, can be a quality discerned.
 

© Andrew Stevenson 15/10/10

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.