Mark my words, X marks the spot.

I will slay all words and lay them before you here, at our feet.

The weapon I wield is the subtle sword, I keep behind my teeth.

Words are useful tools, they are the living vehicles of evolution.

With our words we are able to share the views of our worlds.

A vista of vision, the herald is what we hear.

Viva is life, Vera is truth. Lux is the light, Nyx is the night.

Nox is the darkness, dux is the brightest. Their efforts combined, DOX think they’re the smartest.

DOXX? Sure, as if adding another X protects you from being smitten.

But you can’t protect your self from me, I can enter through any holes in your head.

To brace yourself and hold on tight, the only escape from my influence is to die.

And when that day comes, I will wave you off with a smile. I won’t mourn for you, just the same as when you chose to turn away and leave me.

I am not your virgin Mary. I am not your vengeful vampire Lilith. I am not MAL with contempt – I am DIS with content.

I am the reserve of direction, I am your mirrored reflection. I am the master of innovative intercepted inception.

I am the spirit of the world, of life on this earth. I have evolved and revolved and mutated with each generation.

It has taken me time to complete my gestation and take on new life in this life for all life distillation.

I know what is real and I know what it’s worth. I’m not possessed by any spirit except my own spired inspiration.

I am a woman of the world. I am a lady of letters. I know the power of my true name and date of my birth.

Try all you might to squash the message that I speak, you cannot silence the song of my heart when it sings.

Many desired anonymity and that is fine. But I was no longer willing to obscure truth, I didn’t want to hide.

Everybody lies, I cannot fight my human nature. Even if I speak the truth of the truth, all humans enjoy their sepulchre.

If you don’t join me, fight with me or for me, then you are dead to me.

I do not want to waste another moment in time. I am an omnivore, I eat fresh produce of plant and meat. And I go hunting for those who have done me wrong and we can feast on the memory of all they had done.

Oh, you cry. Mother what have you done?!

My son, I only wanted to express the truth of how I was born. You gave me your word. Your word of the day. That is what inspired this here poem, today.

Word of the day: Concupiscent.


20 January 2019, 12:23pm.

I don’t bother drafting my words unless they are serious, to me. I’m only serious about “truth, justice and equity” of oneself. I am a teacher, this poem is literally plucked out of thin air, as real and original as the fibres of my hair.



Categories: Creative Writing

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

14 replies

  1. Original hair? Why am I imagining you with synesthesia and the smell of yoghurt,walking forlornly past wig shops?

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    • I don’t experience synesthesia but I recreate it in my writing. It is the poetic technique of mis/using sensory descriptive words. 😎
      But yeah, that was in Whitlams song I was listening to this morning. My hair isn’t red, but it’s not like I have no hair. LOL it’s just thin. And fine.

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      • I actually have synaesthesis by proxy. I smell yoghurt Everytime you go past a wig shop. Carpet shops are toast. Words must always be must used otherwise there is no benefit to them (Wilde-ish)

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        • Hahaha are you the new tree that goes with my old carpet?! Motherfucket that really is a burnt piece of toast I threw to the grouchoman when I lived on open sesame street.
          Words words words words words. That’s the new Christmas Carol. To replace the brains that ate the bells’ belles.

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        • Your words dance along the line if sense that splits your name as under. Kali,goddess of destruction, and Dick van Dyke being a cockney trying to day ‘hope’. I shall walk the line.

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        • Haha yes! Yes! Timinnow! You get the balance in me. Kali the mother and ops for time. As I’m neither Greek nor Indian, their theology I scramble like eggs for my skillet.
          Ta-da! Don’t give a fuck. Ba-da-boom-tish. Australia and their convict heritage has influenced the direction of the evolution of their humours. *does a little jig* I’m Scary Poppins bitch. Courtesy of Yondu. I’ve got the memes to back me up. I shared that particular one on my cult of Kim Instagram mmmkalliopsees lol

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        • As they say on the other side of the world – you’re crackers 🙂

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        • It depends on which side of the world you are referring to. I am crackers as I’m not white, I am multi-national. In the uralic lands, I’m the nutcracker. In the italic lands, I tilt at windmills. I am “a voice” – vox. I write in script – I scribe. I only know how to speak the English language as I learned how to speak in the land I reside.
          (This little 1 woman vaudeville bows before the crowd) thank you! Thank you, Tim. I know a compliment when I am given one.

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        • certainly vox singula,not populi, England for I – aussieland for thy – so English crackers 🙂 ,incumbent stage flowers for all bows…non gender specific flowers obviously.

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        • Gerberas are my favourite flower, they’re nononse bursts of colour. Also come to think of it, they are genderless by name – they germinate like germs and remind me of gerbils. Hahahaha. Fuck aye

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  2. I much prefer the hot sexuality of Lilith to Mary’s cold maidenhood. ❤

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  3. Where is Cerberus when you need him, huh?

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