The funny side to life as a working single Mum. My stories of embarrassing escapades, toddler tantrums and great expectations.
Thursday, 21 August 2014
Poem: Taking liberties.
I've written this tonight, more as a performance poem/spoken word performance. Here it is anyway.
Taking liberties.
I want you to know that what you did was all worth it, what you said turned to concrete,
While I'm breaking, see me spit.
The movements I'm making, liberties that I'm taking, with a lexicon forming from the back of my throat.
If lust was our calling, we were more than appalling. From our insides to out, we're always pushing and peeling.
With a caustic container, always tried to contain ya. Number fifteen performer at the end of your year.
If love is the reason, darlin, you commit treason. Every day of your life, you're always spilling the poison.
In beauty we trust, obviously hope is a must. For every self respecting poet who is covered in rust.
You see, you can't believe in fate if you are gonna survive. You know you can't believe in God if you are gonna make my brain cry.
Cos everybody knows that reason is the way you can thrive, as Liza said "everybody loves a winner" so you'd better abide.
Remember, life is a cabaret, old chum and you are the only clown. You see the tears you cry are phony, it's time for you to get down.
If love is the reason, darling, your drug is pleasing. Everyday of your life, you're building my poison.
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