LADY GODIVA: The Naked Truth

It’s a fraction of my soul, this hole  you want to control. It’s a distracting false role,  this whole you want a ‘protocol’ show.  I can drink away my whimsy  with cigarettes and whiskey. When they get antsy, take their kids to Disney  smiling miserably. But it’s a fraction of the whole soul, those they them The Man wish to control. Smile through the pain at those who get the gain. Some of us really can see the rain. Some of us, that’s all we ever see. You’re out there, My Mr. Somebody. But My Mr. Something heeds a bigger ring. I see the halos , and the bows, the fairies and the trolls, Rainbow Warriors & Indigos.  The price we pay is water, we failed  The Splatter Test , Father. Every day, every day.  I see them die this way. Olin’s bullets in the left hand, bleach in its right, we lose the battle  because we don’t even fight.  Our murders are entertaining. Our homeless are lazy. Truthers...

And sometimes you just wanna scream  fuck at the top of your lungs behind a dumpster  in the parking lot of An Outback  directly at a Hummer2. 

I have to take out the garbage, I have to do that alone because I’m on my own. The stars out here ain’t nothing, not like on an island. As numerous as grains of sand, but out there twinklin’. Maybe I wished you. (I wished for you) Maybe I dreamt you all up. (I dreamed for you) Because you’re off the chain, hook, and cuff. God, I wanna kiss you, (kiss you) even when you’re insincere; even when you’re not, I still feel you here. In my mind like a chime or a bad melody. I feel like a child every time you speak to me. (with authority) Can you teach me? (teach me) Your bad English too? (2?) I think I’ll know what to do, as long as I follow you. You make me crazy, (absolutely insane) you make me feel so alive, (cruisin’ my vein) that even in Ohio trashed, I see Hawaiian skies. (((and through your lies))) Lord, I want you. (I want you) Lord, I need you. (I need you) I’ll be so sweet to you because I’m so sweet on you. I’d thrill to squeeze your hand, get on...

Baby, I'm thankful for the air, you breathe the food, you eat; baby, I'm thankful I can see you seeing me knowing that your lap is luxury. That what you speak is pure poetry.  Baby, I'm thankful for your profile. For both your thumbs and every finger, I'm thankful for your eyes that gaze that glaze that graze that last and linger. I'm grateful for your sound mind, your tastes displayed. My heart rings for you as your face's a jewel. I've prayed to God to take this love away, chalk it up to dust and lust. She can scream, she can cry, she can look you in the eye while you both lie, she can say she'll love you until you   die, when every day we all wonder why you stay. Don't throw shade on my serenade when I manufacture marinade for my baby, walkin' swaggin' stately my Don my Trump my Breaking Window     In that house,          I'm your real widow,               ...

This will either be a rough draft that I'll go back and edit as time allows and/or I'll retouch on every topic in more detail in individual posts dedicated to that topic.  In which case, this will serve as an outline for future blog post topics. *** *** While revisiting a very old notion, one I was forced to abandon due to a series of unfortunate events that all made me an ongoing victim of circumstance for almost a decade, I discovered in retrospect, especially when so many other things have unfolded since 2010: Pizza-Gate, Epstein's Island, exposure of the Hollyweird casting couch for children and young women, the #MeToo and #FreeBritney movements, countless strange sudden unexpected deaths of beloved celebrities via O.D.ing, suicide, or car crash, The Mandela Effect, Missing 411, the "storming of Area 51", Stranger Things on Netflix which is basically helping some of the concepts behind MK Ultra go mainstream because every aspect of that show is rooted i...

Nu. "Why?," he pauses with his back to me, shoulders slumped, realizing he was myopic and had made a slip.  Anticipating that after all of these years, it was the last piece of 'proof' I probably really needed.  Still turned away from me, he halfway turns his head towards me quizzically tilting his head slightly to the left, over his left shoulder, "What'd we used to call it?" "Nummy-Nummy." "Oh...that's right.  ...Nummy-Nummy." When we were still together we had three cats total.  But one was special needs.  Because of Princess Bitchface.  It was her fault an entire litter of six newly-born kits almost died back in 2014 but their mother conveniently didn't believe me and gave his little sister two kits from that same litter.  She abandoned both young cats eventually at her former roommate's. Her roommate ended up adopting the black one exclusively.  Princess Bitchface ended up moving back in with her minion of a r...

Hookup? Hookup?! I suppose that if I could just manage to be thinner, dumber,  sweeter, a dimwitted simpleton  of average intelligence, a myopic lush instead of a luscious mystic,  traded out my mauve lipstick, grow my hair out dye it blonde, put contacts in and an ill-fitting sundress on with ridiculous shoes...    I wouldn't intimate you or be regulated to dick-throb  instead of heart-throb. I would maybe be the woman they  see materialized as wife the kind to spend their life and not just the night.   Thank you for the drunken texts and the thoughtless ghosting.   Because I never think of you when I'm drinking  or when I'm smoking. There's nothing in the clouds for me to see. If only I was weaker, meeker,   spoke to you like Beaker. Was your cook, was your maid, raised your brats be your slave. Maybe there's something more to do than get laid... But no love was gave. S...