Music, Poetry

All A Dream

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I was walking across a pond that broke
My friends froze up and no one spoke
My bloated body they did poke

And it was all a dream

I was running over a bed of fire
Turning toward my one desire
But my soft feet lit on fire

And it was all a dream

I was swimming in a sea of blue
Exotic fish colors true
All I could think of was you

And it was all a dream

~Sarah Davenport 2014

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Music, Poetry

Dance Like The Devil’s Watching

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Da-da-da-daddy watch me dance
Da-don’t misconstrue my stance
Ma-ma-my body in romance
But I’m not taking off my pants
Don’t just stand there in a trance
Get on the floor and meet expanse

J-j-j-jiggle with your legs
W-w-w-wiggle with your arms
Don’t think ’bout in-one watchin’
That when dancin’ do it’s charms
R-r-r-roll your hips to the left
B-b-b-bump it to the right
Honey get that body banging
Th-th-this a party not a fight

St-st-st-step up drop down shake it like you out of town
Swa-swa-swa-sway soft grind hard shake it like a house of cards
St-st-st-stomp them feet wave them hands shake it like a God commands Do-do-do-do it like you in the hands of a devil’s dirt demands

Da-da-da-daddy watch me dance
Da-don’t misconstrue my stance
Ma-ma-my body in romance
But I’m not taking off my pants
Don’t just stand there in a trance
Get on the floor and meet expanse

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Uncategorized

Thankfulness for Fucks Sake

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I’m not doing the 30 days of thankfulness. But I have just been thinking that I’m thankful. I’m thankful for my fucked up mess of a shit life. I feel rich. It might not make sense, but I feel like if I *knock on wood* died tomorrow, I could not imagine anything in life that I haven’t already experienced. Not physically but emotionally. One of my favorite books The Yellow Birds said ‘All pain is the same, only the details are different’ I think that is true, but the details can include how the pain is received and manifests. And I think that concept also apples to experience. As in some people travel the world and meet a variety of cultures, but it’s relative because wherever you go, if you get to know people you’ll find ideologies/personalities/souls *if you believe in that* just as differing as me trying to haggle for beer in Germany. It’s relative. I’m just saying, I feel full. I feel like I’ve tasted so much of life that I’m rich. And a lot of that richness is in direct result of frantic – fucked up – coincidence.

Because of my fuck ups, because of my misery, because of my heightened emotions from bi-polar, I also know the complete and total opposite of those things. And I question if people who have not had extreme high and lows in life, to such an extent, do not know that magic of discovering contentment, peace, forgiveness, and genuine love… Even if for a moment.

How can you know how happiness is if you’ve never been sad, is the simpleton way to put it. But how can you know the entire spectrum, if you’re speedometer stops and 160? My version is more complicated. But I feel rich and blessed sometimes… And it’s because I know the darkness so well, it’s because I’m neorodiverse, it’s because I’m mentally ill. I get to experience a side of life many people can’t imagine. And sometimes it sucks. But that’s also what makes it so complete -in my mind.

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Uncategorized

Eat Your Heart Out

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He said we’d go to Italy
That’s always been a dream to me
Ferrari cars gelato cream
A quiet gaze in the Sistine
I’d whip it out and suck him off
Then sit on it and watch them scoff
I’d pop his eye out with my thumb
But jump up quick before he’d cum
I’d ride again go for his heart
Cut up with thorns from the flower cart
The scene surreal inside a church
Even satan wants to lurch
cannibalizing in the Sistine chapel
I’ll eat his heart out like a granny apple
They’ll try to stop me and they will
No one knows motive or will
Except for me – just my selfish thrill
Polizia di Stato will shoot to kill
What a dream, romantic, yes?
I only hope I don’t ruin my dress
A beautiful scene of blood and glory
If you didn’t know, dear
that’s amare

~ Sarah Davenport 2014 *creative license*

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Music, Poetry

Depressing Sh*t poetry

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I never told, nothing to tell. Everything was shit so fare-thee-well. They might of hurt me, but what’s difference, no lines to cross when you live without fences.

I never fell, I’m already fallen. Ever since my birth Satan’s been callin’. I sold my soul, this whole time I’ve been stalling. But my phone keeps a’ringin’ – Satan’s keeps calling.

I never win, failure hails. But that’s what the wind does – when your boat got no sails. I used to have dreams but they’re all dying. This ain’t nothing but fucks fights and crying.

I never walk, I’m always crawlin. Ever since earth Satan’s been callin’. I sold my soul, for for a peach that was rotten. But my door keeps soundin’ – Satan keeps knockin

I never get it, the point just evades me. Nothing you say will ever persuade me. I used to think there would be someone who’d save me. But that all went away when reality paid me.

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Music, Poetry

Cultural Casualty

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You always say how you admire my creativity
But going my own way seems to ruin my humanity
In your mind I’m just a blind formulation
In your mind I’m just a simple simulation of a human of a being
I’m not a girl
I’m a machine
in your mind
You left me behind
In a pile of scrap metal
In your view
I’m not the bike I’m just a peddle
In your brain
I’m the tracks I’m not the train
So you grind me up
Store me in labeled jars
In your mind
I’m the pavement
For cars to leave their tread-mark scars
In your mind
In your mind
In your mind
I’m not a girl I’m a blow up doll
here just for you
I twirl and twirl and twirl
In your mind
I’m not a girl I’m an ice cream cone
Here just for you
I swirl and swirl and swirl
In your mind
I’m not girl I’m just a pearl fixed on a tiny ring
Hidden in a box behind a key and locks
I’m just a thing
In your mind
I’m just a thing
In your mind
In Your Mind
In your mind
You are blind to who I really am
I’m not a person I’m a game – a whim
Misogynistic objectification drilled in your brain
Led to loss of human relation – that’s insane
In your mind
I’m not a girl I’m a physical sensation
Anything more might ruin my score
So keep my heart on the floor
My personal thoughts just ignore
I’m just a picture to adore
I must’nt shatter preconception
Your mind can’t handle anymore.
In your mind
I’m just a tease unless I give you what you please
In your mind
I breath just for you – bow down to all you do
In your mind
I have no mind, spine, heart or soul
I’m a wind up toy for you to twist and pull
In your mind
Man made ideologies control you
In your mind
Societal dogma stole you
In your mind
A mistaken credo steamrolled you
You’re a victim of the system
Just as much as me
The result of a devised decision, unspoken decrees
Desperate by the cost of living
Crushed by hidden fees
In your mind
You think you’re fine but
You’re a cultural casualty

~Sarah Davenport 2014

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Music, Poetry

Howard Hughes’n It

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I need a drink array, not just one or two, but a display.
I want coffee, water, gin and juice. My momma calls it beverage abuse
I like to sin like they do in bars. They say Howard Hughes stored urine in jars. I’ve peed in beer bottles in the backseats of cars. My closet’s full of coffee stained scars.

I’ve got san pellegrino, I’ve got a mojitto, I keep sake at 70 degrees.
Hot cocoa; I like white. Rum and iced tea. I have a bottle of whiskey that gives a good bite. I sip, spill, drip and refill, it’s not all for thrill, hooch can put up a fight.

Momma thinks I’m losing it. Doc thinks I’m abusing it. But you can tell old Jim Beam we’re alright.
Cause I’m
Howard Hughes’n
Howard Hughes’n
Howard Hughes’n
it tonight.

Went to the dentist, made me rinse with tap water, nothing to chase it, like a poor farmer’s daughter. Went to the grocer had to drink from a fountain, no lemon or lime, like some hinterland mountain. Went to the river, had nothing to drink, like a deserted, rusted up, garbage dump sink.

See I can’t be blamed, my thirst can’t be tamed, my needs won’t go unnamed. So tell Jim Bean we’re alright.
Cause I’m
Howard Hughes’n
Howard Hughes’n
Howard Hughes’n
it tonight.

~Sarah Davenport 2014

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