If Only This Had Been A Rare Face

Erratic Expeditions

As Mediterranean waves evaded a violent shore,

A frail face lay in peace, at the confluence of war.

Birds swam seeking refuge in boatloads,

A few sank, like an island full of toads.

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Terror, tears, shock, and blank concern,

How did the world allow its people to burn?

Passionate vows, pious pleas overflew worldwide,

An audacious hope of morality bona fide.


Sadly, that was not to be!

Time, forgetfulness – proved a great healer.


 Haunting face sitting in an ambulance

Three-year-old eyes, dusty and bloodshot with innocence.

Shock, cry, surprise, alarm –  a bit too far,

Unnerving calm and silence – fury and chaos of war.

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 The world’s conscience still ceases to be troubled,

All the piety did not move the world.

No change, no action – not a trace,

If only this had been a rare face.

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Seeking Slumber

unreally written

Waking up has become a burden. There is a fleeting moment when I am whole again but it evaporates faster than summer rain on heated pavement. Then my lids, drooping and heavy with sleep, snap open violently. The darkness that should serve to mask the emptiness that surrounds me fails, leaving a lonely feeling of detachment. I’m left to explore in the empty void of emotions between asleep and awake.

I explore the cool sheets around me with my hands. Behind my eyes, pressed shut by the of my thumbs, I find a subtle awareness of my existence. There’s a flow of thoughts with loose connections to my waking life. Things to be done, answers to questions unasked, opinions, and recollections, alike. I spend long minutes analyzing every thought meticulously.

It’s strange; the ability for one’s being to lay lifeless and lazy while their mind bustles in the dark cavity…

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My Diary: On Finding A Giant Apricot In The Hall

Gerald's Rather Strange Diary

I sat in the shrubbery painting tiny targets on my nails and watching the dog try on a dress several sizes too big.‭ ‬June went to town shortly after,‭ ‬closely followed by a family of cannibalistic clocks‭ ‬-‭ ‬luckily she wasn’t wearing a watch.‭ ‬I was even less organised than usual and had a bath walking down the street,‭ ‬Poppy came down behind holding a towel.‭ ‬I was busily playing team games on my palette when June contacted me using rose petals borrowed from Heliogabalus.‭ ‬I followed the scent to town,‭ ‬collecting the entrails of a mechanical yak and the spare wheel from the wreck of the HMS Campleltown and then walked home,‭ ‬looking into every hole in the ground as I did so.‭ ‬However I was still surprised when a pair of empty hands emerged from an overgrown roadside hedge.

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Across the Room and Into the Fire, Pt. 1

Na trioblóidí

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This is a love story that has no end.

When I was very young, my family didn’t have much in the way of money. By way  of illustration, here is an early memory—

I was crossing the street with my mother and younger brother. My mother was holding both of us by the hand. In my free hand, I held my “toys”. These were cut-outs from a newspaper ad, pictures of dolls of Frankenstein, Dracula, the Werewolf, and the Mummy. We had almost made it across when I dropped my toys, broke free of my mother, and dashed out into traffic. The paper cut-outs were stuck to the wet road and I was trying desperately to free them, my mother was screaming bloody murder, and my little brother was laughing. Luckily, a meter maid was there to grab me by the ear and haul me off to the curb, using…

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Nick Drake : River Man, Oh how they come and go …

The Immortal Jukebox

I was woken this morning from a full five fathom sleep by the shrill steam whistle of a ferry boat about to depart for the tranquil sanctuary of some green Nordic isle.

As I floated upward into consciousness I carried with me a gift from my subconscious: no doubt inspired by the moon above the harbour the previous evening.

So .. luxuriating in the drowsiness of my summer vacation and not equipped or inspired to present you with my customary impeccably researched and deeply pondered musings I offer to you the gift given to me.

Nick Drake. For a spell in the 1970s I was deeply obsessed with the persona and music of Nick Drake (whereas now I remain merely mildly obsessed).

And, there is good reason to be obsessed with the music of a man who left to us, after such a short life, so much intense beauty.

I…

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Monday Update: June Finishes Edition

lifewithlilred

Hello everyone and happy Monday! With July now upon us, it’s time to talk about the beauty product empties that I had for the month of June! I was able to complete some products that I liked a lot and others that kind of sucked which balanced out to a great month for beauty product finishes. Take a look at my June Finishes:

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Would I Use It Again?

Why/Why Not?

Suave Body Wash: I absolutely love the scent of this shower gel. It’s floral-y and bright without being too overpowering and it lathers so well. It is the perfect fragrance to wake up to in the morning and I think…

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