Mr and Mrs Macaw

Mr and Mrs Macaw© LiolaPhotographic 2016

‘What you once thought of as impossible is now possible. Go for it’ ~ Parrot

Image of a pair of Hyacinth Macaws captured on a day trip to London Zoo a few years back. Original background removed and replaced with black and edges softened. This was one of my earlier attempts to change the background.

 

 

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Blog on!

When you suddenly come to the long overdue conclusion that you have actually  been doing this blogging thing all wrong! Or maybe going about it in the wrong way! Yep, that’s me! 100 % guilty of getting it arse about face as, in totally contrary to what is usual, expected or indeed logical. There is just no rhyme or reason to it, though I suppose there may be some rhyme as I have posted many poems here, and as for reason, well, I am still working on that one. Somehow under the ‘Blog’ heading, I have been placing all and sundry as my posts. Absolutely everything has been lumped together, and unceremoniously put out there for all the world to see, just how truly disorganised I am. Or maybe not all the world (slight exaggeration) but at least a few people here and there.

My Blog (I use the term loosely here), somehow says something about the utter chaos that is my life. I have followed no rules nor have I had any sort of plan on  exactly what I specifically want to achieve. I have merely presented various pieces of writing haphazardly with no due care or attention, and have simply gone full speed ahead and thought ‘damn the torpedoes’. To be totally honest, I just have n’t had a clue, not the foggiest really. I have admired many beautifully crafted Blogs on here but have so  far not managed to really create something truly worthy, at least not in my eyes. I am not talking about the actual ‘writing’ etc that I have put up but the way that I have presented it. Perhaps the eclectic mix of writing is a reflection of the eclectic mix of me.

I have been flitting about from one theme to another, not really knowing what I was aiming for, or maybe knowing a bit but then changing my mind because it just was not working, and not quite what I wanted. Maybe I am overthinking everything! I do have a tendency to do that sometimes, many times. I finally worked out how the ‘categories’ tab works whoopee! Also, a lovely fellow Blogger advised me to reduce the amount of tags I was using, and how to make better use of tagging in order to get more people seeing what I was posting. There are some really great people on here who are always happy to help and guide, which I find truly encouraging. And that’s the thing, I had thought about shutting it all down, and holding my hands up in defeat but I am not yet ready to be beaten by this Blog thing I have entered into. Not just yet! I will keep going. It’s almost a year since I joined, and I have connected with some beautiful souls here in the Blogosphere.

So all I can say is ‘Blog on!’

© Liola Lee 2019

 

 

Going home – An Epitaph

I came here just to visit,

On borrowed time some say,

Delivered by the Angels

On a path to find my way.

 

I danced in my fairy shoes

And sang a serenade

To life, love and happiness

So please don’t be afraid.

 

The time has come for me to go,

I’m going home to play

With Angels in Paradise

I can no longer stay.

 

Please don’t be sad for me,

I really am alright,

Just think of me loving you

O My Darliing ….good night.

© Liola Lee 2007

Back in 2007 I was writing a fair bit of poetry, and use to belong to a site called Poetbay which really was quite a lovely platform for sharing poetry and encouraging others on there poetry journey. Sometimes they would set challenges and give you a brief to work to. This  poem came about when the challenge was to write an Epitaph. 

 

 

 

Searching…

Ill-chosen lyrics, a well-loved tune?

Child of the Sun, child of the Moon?

Where once reigned daylight

Now shadow led night.

Where once there was vision

Eyes blind without sight.

Where now is felt weakness

Not characterised might;

Once stood strength,

Ready to fight.

The fight is now gone:

A forgotten song:

Words without voices,

Decisions less choices.

This way or that way?

I know not which;

The path rightly chosen

Is wealth beyond rich.

To those who seek,

To them shall find;

The way is forward

Not that behind.

© Liola Lee 2007

 

 

Sister Bitch

The pain and suffering caused to those

The accusations, that were imposed

The broken ties, hearts and bonds,

Loving friendship thus absconds.

 

The twisted tales and lies were told

The brazen bollocks of words so bold,

The shattered souls, tears and fears

A prison sentence, of several years?

 

The untruths, that they said were true,

The acting to convince the few,

The tears were false as is the heart

A clever act, right from the start.

 

The money beckoned, the pounds they call,

The house, inheritance, she wants it all.

The trial by jury, just a fix,

A farcical phoney, a trickster’s tricks.

 

The envy of a Sister Bitch,

An in-law aiming at being rich.

The lack of feeling, lack of care

For her brother, she wants his share.

 

The loss he felt at this betrayal,

The family unit going stale.

The loss of sibling. loss of self

Stomach ache and suffering health.

 

The Sister Bitch has love of money,

The script she cites has little honey.

The greed for guts and blood are hers

As long as pounds pour in her purse.

 

The Jury hears the woeful story,

The opera soap of something gory.

The story of her darling child,

And one other that she reviled.

 

The plot was easy, and ready set,

The will would change for her to get

The money, house and everything,

Her bank balance set bound to sing.

 

The victim chosen, that was easy,

The lack of guilt she showed was sleazey.

The lad was blood and yet not blood,

Adopted nephew stuck in mud.

 

The mental state of this young man

The game she played because she can

The way she saw it, all was fair

Money talks, she does not care.

 

The evidence does not exist

There are no facts, you get the gist?

The fabrication, blatant lie

Could not be proved, wonder why?

 

The things she said did not take place

In any shape, form or space,

A pack of lies, just for money,

Destroying lives, is not funny.

 

The Jury heard, the story told,

Historical case, out in the cold:

Jury out, await decision,

So confused by such derision:

 

What had started out, as small,

Gained momentum, a rolling ball:

A cigarette smoked, now in trouble,

A stupid girl, an airhead bubble:

 

She said one thing, and then another,

Sought attention, from her mother.

It seemed so easy to tell a lie,

Always easy, to turn and cry.

 

The waterworks worked, well until

The person she told, called ‘Old Bill’.

They made a case, I don’t know how

From lies she said, was truth and now

 

We have a situation,

Total crap, and fabrication.

The Sister Bitch could have ended,

But saw to get the will suspended.

 

The chance had come to her, what luck!

To make some money, what the fuck!

Why settle for half, when she could gain

The entire fortune just for saying

 

A lie, so what, she does n’t care

When it comes to money, don’t play fair.

Half a million to be gained,

So what, if someone innocent stained.

 

What she did not bargain for,,

Was that a fight would be in store.

Justice, freedom and liberty,

The truth is out now, the Jury see.

 

What they said, could not have been

He was not there, was not seen.

We watched them in the court of law

Listened, to a sham so poor.

 

It makes me mad, angry, sad,

That just because his temper’s bad,

Previous convictions, fall from grace.

Unsuited body, scar on face.

 

They tried to twist the facts so clear,

Pervade justice, and Jury steer.

He is believed and she is not,

The facts speak clear, they ‘re full of rot.

© Liola Lee 2007

Sometimes people will do./say anything for monetary gain or if it gets them out of trouble and takes the focus off them! Sometimes those people are the people we think are closest to us!