Obsessive Lifestyle for Sale!


As she grasped

her new obsession


with great intention

another meaningless


from her emptiness

the hours spent

sat on her own

shadows dancing on wall

apartment blocks

the twilight zone

staring blankly

at her newly purchased

mobile phone

too frightened to go out

far too fearful

to stay at home alone

she lines up

her broken promises

in neatly placed

systematic rows

right alongside

the countless knocks


regrets, remorse

violent, sadist blows

she throws

her monsters in

cardboard crates

the few she loves

the many she hates

love for sale

soul to rent

hung upon a rail

slightly twisted

completely bent

this woman is

growing old

her heart

bitterly burnt out

deadly ice cold

she watches

her misfortune

piled up on the edge

of her distorted reality

she stares at the saviour

the man who was meant

to set her free


who can he be

surely not the one

who married me

she casts her misplaced anger

at this other being

if it was not for you

think of all the places

I could have seen

stuck in a rut

extremely overweight

comfort eating

too much on my plate

feed me

so very lonely

food became her

favourite foe

feed me

so very hollow

lost without hope

no-where to go

on-line shopping

fills a void

buy a new dress

every time you feel annoyed

throw away gadgets

piles of pointless purchases

momentary satisfaction

wrapped around

fragile wounds

substitution affection

cyber consummation

plastic consumerism

pointless solution

controlled by life

politician’s  solution

propaganda pollution

monkey are never

allow to be set free

as I watch the death

of the monkey

in me.


MedusaMoon c2016

Ruby Giant

Ruby Giant

sat frozen within

the icy snow

the stiffness

the rigidity

thus prevent

her nature flow

help me

I am stuck

no longer

do I grow

the restrictions

these restraints

they are all

that I have come

to know

once I started

as a seed

such potential

a quality breed



sending solid roots

thus burrowing into

the hardest earth

an innate knowing

how to be

my survival ingrained

look at me

pretty flower

busting through

the solid ground

colourful and bright

but with no-body around

how will I know

when I get it right

surrounded by sunshine

such brilliant light

opening up

during each day

closing down

every stormy night

for it was the sun

with all its spender

sun taught me

how to be tender

when to fight

when to surrender

I named her hope

she would always

shine on me

those longer days

when I could not cope

all those weeds

alongside that one

spiteful flower

would taunt and tease

I would hand them

all my flower-power

they drained the water

as the earth would dry

no compassion

no remorse

they would sit

and watch her die

countless buckets

of tears she would cry

what is wrong?

remarked the

newly born butterfly

I have no wings

so I will never

be free

I feel so stuck

there is a world

I need to see

I wish I was a bird

butterfly or bee

I want to be


except for me

no pretty flower

you gifts are so much

greater than mine

you are mastic

your colours are divine

you have the ability

to be reborn

every season

every year

every new morn

I have twenty-four hours

that is all creation

gave to me

I am restricted

you are totally free

so tell me butterfly

how come you are at peace

with your given choice

why not speak out

creation gave you a voice

oh pretty flower

it is all part of destiny

sometimes we search for truth

with eyes too blinded to see

embrace your simplicity

if it were not for you

I could not feed

I then spread your pollen

so other insects  eat

other plants can breed

be patience

melt the ego

surrounding you

as it has you frozen

go inwardly

as we are all one

you hold the same energy

as that there moon

stars and sun.


MedusaMoon c2016


Good Enough for Who!

Hey chick

get over it

can you not see

we are done

how many

times must

I tell you

you were just

not the one

your cooking

was mediocre

in fact

it was really plain

the way you use

to feed me

well it drove

me slightly insane

you put notes

in my lunch box

well they

must have slipped

out of the bag

when I threw

my lunch away

stop shouting

you remind me

of an old hag

do not talk

about my past

I do not need

your empathy

all this personal


well, it just

was not my

cup of tea

I want to hang

out with the gang

chatter about

manly stuff

who wants to be

a new man

check me out

I am proper tough

all the sentimental

nonsense is really

annoying me

I am a realist

forward thinking

we cannot

control our destiny

so get over it

call your mother

ask her if you

can come to stay

whatever you do

just keep

out of my way

but leave me

a forwarding number

so I can keep you

on the side

so if I ever

end up lonely

you can sooth

my humble pride!


MedusaMoon c2016

How Good is Enough?

So tell me

she cried

which parts

of me




good enough

for you?

my smile

every time

you walked

into the room

the countless


I made

with tenderness

the foods you loved

how I listened

to your past

without judgement

when I sat

on your lap

as we laughed

as we cried

the way

I would jump

onto the bed

in the morning

waking you

with a giggle

a hug

or how I allowed

your cold feet

to embrace mine

as we slept


the hot coffee

left at your bedside

every cold morning

the note

in your lunch box

that read

I am sorry

the way I held you

when the world

seemed so cruel

power naps

on late

sunny afternoon

funny faces

silly texting

how I remembered

your favourite colour

well chosen

birthday presents

carefully planned



trips away

holding hands

whist walking

in silence

knowing glances

painful endings

angry outbursts

followed by

carefully constructed


hurtful disagreements

sorrowful remorse

so tell me

which part of me


did not

love you



MedusaMoon C 2016

How to Mend a Heart!

How to Mend a Heart!


She felt

the rawness of

that broken heart

watching him

take his leave


nearly ripped her apart

how many more times

would she need to grieve

she wanted to stop

this inner torture

please make this

hurt just go away

hours spent

recalling moments

what she did

what she should have done

what he did not do

what he did not say

plotting revenge

oh woman scorn

analysing a hundred tragedies

morning to night

night into morn

rewriting scenes

justifying catastrophes

energies wasted

emotional hours spent

I swear that girl

she was hell bent

as her ego festered

dogmatic melodies

he just not into me

patience truly tested

he is just not into me

radical acceptance

demons running wild

self-righteous indignation

she was too blind to see

cleverly constructed

classic romantic story book

fairy tales idealism

one sexual refusal

that was all it took

the smart move

from seemingly

unconditional love

to self-preservation

bright lights

blue mornings

freezing cold

train station

hit by a freight train

continuation down

a dead-end track

will only drive

that girl insane

the starkness of truth

enlightened moment

divine intervention

meaningless prove


upon the next wave

of pain stricken emotion

she decided to swim

surfing her ocean

to sway with the flow

embrace the hurt

feel it, let it go

a watchful stance

avoiding the drama

she started to dance

recognising her karma

human suffering

overwhelming humanity


time to set this free


no-one belongs to me


what will be

will surely be!


MedusaMoon c2016

CyberCity – Love for Sale!

Big girls

we know what it

feels like to be

made to feel

so small

he flicks through


pretty photos

on this electric


countless cardboard cutouts

he attacks

you have mail

her fragile ego


hey chick

you look hot

fancy a date


she gets into

a neurotic state

he seems so cool

forget about his background

or where he went to school

her broken heart

start racing

she leaps from her chair

the room

she starts pacing

she wonders

what does he see in me

was it my lushes brown eyes

my crooked smile

my golden blond hair

she hopes he has notice

that she has been around

for quite a while

her petals

are much older

her skin

not as tight

the messages arrive

fast and furious

morning though evening

right into the night

she goes online

deciding what dress to buy

she walks around

in a haze

she feels emotionally high

the night arrives

she spends hours

getting ready for her date

sat waiting

in the restaurant

while he is unfashionably late

he stats his stuff

over to where she is sat

hey chick

you are pretty

but in your picture

you are not as fat

hang out with me

I will treat you

as my doormat

I will introduce you

to my mates

as long as you loose

your baby fat

vulgar displays

of egotistical power

hey sweetheart

you were just not

my type

I expected a rose

not a dull wallflower

you going to stand there

you going to insult me

tell me

you the devil

do you think you are

hey waiter

bill please

and can you kindly

arrange to fetch my car

she arose

head held high

man that chick

she has such style

everyone in earshot

began to clap

the waiter whispered

inside his burning ear

I think you better leave now

we do not serve

your type in here!


MedusaMoon C2016








nor do you have

a pretty face

you are incompetent

in fact you are a





you are fat

you are ugly








low performance review

not as bright has him

nor as clever as her


not even

good enough

to you



a generational disgrace




stepping out of line

get back

in your place

you are a moron

a jerk

an excuse

a mistake

you are pretentious



a fake

good for nothing

never amount

to anything


false pride

keep your feelings and

optioned loud mouth

well hidden

deep inside







overly sensitive fool

under achiever



did not do well

at school

day dreamer


a pathetic

lonely fool

attention seeker

drama queen

bad behaviour






developmental crisis

mental health


suicide ideation

emotional wreckage

countless therapy


making sense

of worthlessness

understanding past tense

all these dogmatic voices

inside my head

awake me in the morning

follow me around

all day

eventually take me to bed






in my burning ear

ingested self-loathing

now it is I

whom does not care


learnt behaviour

creates violent danger


in a stranger

wearing more

baggage than myself


wounded children

with an enormous

lack of self

fragile thick skin

begins to break

as my true essence

starts to emerge


shall not continue

as I struggle

to be heard

deep inside


the key to unlock


is forgiveness

of those abusive others

loving kindness

universal grace

spreading love


creates a home

a brighter place!


MedusaMoon c2016