a horrified shadow

If you have never felt hunger

a desperation so deep in your gut

that it gnaws at your bones and

it speaks in vernacular tongues

whispering to your pain addled brain

in the devil’s voice it denies,

tries to convince your starving stomach

that it doesn’t need that sustenance

then you have no right to tell me to be patient.  


It is devastating, to stand in the

refrigerator light sobbing,

in the open door of a food filled fridge and

know that there is not a damned thing in it

that you can ingest or imbibe

and there is nothing you can use

to fill that emptiness inside.


That experience

is enough

to destroy


mental wellbeing 



Coming Soon to eBook and in paperback
Coming Soon to eBook and in paperback
Get your copy of The Hurt Chamber by Foggy McCorrigan
Get your copy of The Hurt Chamber by Foggy McCorrigan
Twisted Tales by Patti Beeton is available now
Twisted Tales by Patti Beeton is available now

tItHe AnD tImE

I was a good and faithful daughter.

I paid my tithe and I paid my time
and I paid my dues
I payed for my sins and
prayed for my soul
prayed for forgiveness
for sins I hadn’t committed yet
All because my ancestors
grandparents, my parents, did
because a man in a robe told me I should
I must, he said –
You must
Now your head and pray for forgiveness
Pray for your sins to be washed away
Pray for your eternal reward

Pray to what?
To whom?
Pray to a God that professed
His Love
His devotion in return for mine
For His Forgiveness
But stood idly watching
Floated by on His Heavenly Perch
Waiting while I suffered
Like some Silent Stalkery Saviour
While I pled and pleaded

Our Father.
My Father
Help me be a better person
Help him not be angry anymore
I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong
I know I deserve it but I don’t know why

Save Me
Please don’t forsake me
God Please Make It Stop
I’ll pray harder
I’ll Do Better
I’ll do anything
God, please

The mindless begging
Became a realisation that
I am and was my own God
My own Saviour

I Saved Me.
No one else did


Snarktastically, speaking

Tomorrow is cutting day. Yup! I’m going under the knife!

Admittedly, I’m a dight nervous about some legalised lunatic armed with nasty ass tools and enough meds to knock Godzilla into the next dimension being anywhere near my nearly perfect physique.  That was snarkasm, by  the way,   There’s nothing perfect about this physique and I’m good with that thanks.

I’m just kidding. My doctor, she is very sweet and actually quite gentle, but the fact remains. Nasty tool = not enough medicinal tequila in the world…. It is my intent to distract myself with a variance of artistic pursuits and filmatic offerings in an effort to keep myself distracted from said fact.

 I will be out of commission for a short period of time, and as insulting as it is for my family to be giving praise to the Almighty for the gift,  they have a point.  A girl needs her beauty sleep and blah blah recovery blah blah blood sounds cool blah blah blah

You feel me?

So,  beginning today, if you should need my attentions,  and you really don’t want my full attention,  the usual methods will suffice. I do intend to be playing my music at brain shattering levels  when I am not sleeping or writing and this will necessitate some creative attention-getting skills.

I’ll just leave that with you…

Melanie McCurdie

If I had a penis

– Dedicated to all my sisters who know they damned well feel the same way and especially for those won’t admit it –


If I had a penis for just one day:


In the spirit of truthfulness…I’d think with it at least twice


and spend the early morning in bed alone with it, too


Plus, let’s face it ladies,

how often will we have the opportunity 

to learn to write our names 

in the snow?


I’d probably join the girls for coffee, to compare

and swing it around a little because it looks like fun….


But then I’d be bored and so in retrospect,





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When I think of you
Sometimes I smile
A little bit dirty because …

But mostly I just sneer
Choke back the temptation
To grab the nearest blunt
And let my mouth run amok

Don’t misunderstand

I do not indulge in hatred
Rather, it’s pity that haunts me
That try as I may to hold on
The kindest thing I could do
Was let you go


filter smash

I’m drunk and I’m pissed off about it. I also don’t care so I don’t know where that leaves us, except with me wishing there was more fucking tequila and sort of regretting smashing the shit out of my filter in self-defence and solidarity … mostly due to alcohol.

Yeah so the hell what if the wagon was moving when I fell off? it didn’t hurt a bit.  I feel nothing and I like it this way. There is less chance of someone getting their feelings injured by my lack of care for anyone’s feelings but my own.

No one else gives a hot damn past  their own desires, so why does it shock that I finally caught on?  My heart may be dilapidated and my soul battered,  but it still feels enough to know when I no longer matter enough to consider as anything more than a human doormat or stepping stone to the next best thing.

Fuck that noise. I may not be perfect but I’m worth it and a far sight more than those lame ass whiners who trap themselves in ivory towers and claim innocence while their horns glow.

I know what I am. I know why too. I also know that I am not sticking around to watch your world implode one more damned time then be obligated to listen to the endless bitching why why why. Waaahhh.

I don’t care why. I don’t want to hear lies and backtrack bullshit to protect your less than truthful conjecture.

I really expected more than the typical  human crap. That’s my bad and a mistake I’ll not likely make again.

Oh look. Vodka.

Bite Me

You keep saying that

I don’t talk nor do I

express myself,  well ask

yourself why that could be

let’s see you utilise

that brain for more than

sexual function or

romantic fantasy

ask yourself again why

I don’t scream from rooftops

from soul balconies

what’s locked inside of me;

the way I love or hate

you’d investigate if

it mattered at all but

it doesn’t and while you

self serve a buffet of

narcissistic platitudes

that we are all expected

to imbibe as gospel

you have the ballsy nerve

to crown me drama queen

because I break down and

show my weaker side?

you can’t decide what to

say to me but run and

hide like a guilty child

instead of the adult

that  you shout claim to be.

Grow up already…okay?

I’m through with the raving

holier than thou, whining

attitude when someone

doesn’t gift wrap your wants,

your needs, your deep desires,

offered up on steaming on

a stolen silver plate.

trust me, no one wants the

half gassed effort made at

love so save the words and

prove it for a fucking

change instead of giving

me a menu and the

same shitty lip service

that is always on tap


IMO – The View From Here

Watching this election from my post has me concerned on so many levels. It’s like watching a bad beauty pageant through a slot in the panic room door, and wondering which of the candidates is going to trip and explode. Bad whether the enforced steel doors are strong enough to withstand the blast.

Someone likened it to the pulling of a trigger, and both bullets were inferiorly manufactured. As you well know, these types of choices will often blow up in your face, whether you like it or not.

Point is, the die is cast. The deed is done. Fait d’accompli. No one said what comes next is appetising or any less than frightening. It absolutely is frightening, for everyone. But there is little to be done at this stage than to pull together and stop spewing hatred at each other.

You are all in it together, no matter who you voted for. As a country. As a people. This choice that was made is now a reality that must be lived with. Right or wrong. You have 4 years to make the best of it or prepare to make some changes in 2020.

It’s unfortunate, truly, that the electoral process has turned into a popularity contest full of posturing and grandiose promises that have no way of actually coming to fruition without driving the country’s resources further into the Hellmouth. And is it for the masses? No, it’s to benefit those who pull the strings behind the scenes.

Please, in the days ahead, think. Consider your words and actions before your fear and anger causes more heartache and animosity among people who should be able to love one another.

That’s how I see it.

Thoughts on – IMO

A thought: In my opinion

The work we do as independent artists of all types is a labour of love and not easy work at times.  We do our level best to put out a decent product,  given our own resource availability. It isn’t always simple or smooth. So when someone picks apart another’s work, as though they know better, it is insulting and frankly rude.

Constructive criticism is always appreciated.  Most of us are realistic,  and we know that our art is not for everyone. So, please,  think before you speak, keep it constructive, or keep it to yourself.

Thank you.

Some World …

It’s the Opiate of the masses.
Opinion seems to act as some sort of aphrodisiac, and media,
Media provides the soundtrack to the insanity.
It all makes us believe that if we
Kiss the ring on the hand of some pauper prince
If we commit ourselves to the real daemon
by believing in the falsehoodery
That somehow everything will be status quo.
It’s heresy;
Your grass marriage with reality
is really just a nest of lies
brought to you solely by your inability
to look past the mask into the
windowless soup of Society’s heart.
It’s disheartening to feel alone in a world full of people
Knowing that the black sheep is really juste a warrior
With a psychic avantage.
And that those with open minds remain the only
Armour that stands between the
Intentionally ignorant and those willing to see.


New Bones

Someone asked me what I feel,
And to my own fault I responded
The only way that I know how.
Only Haywire live wire seemed apt.
It makes no sense, perhaps,
To anyone but me
But that’s what it feels like.
It’s as though my bones have been replaced
And the new ones simply vibrate
Until my teeth rattle.
It’s oppressive and I’m trapped
By unseen eyes that observe
Every step, every breath
Someone is always there and it’s no comfort
Nor replacement for flesh and blood.
It’s uneasy the way the world is imploding
and the people are discussing politics
Issues of no consequence.
Leaves me to wonder what happens
What to those of us awake
When it ends.


About beauty …

Beauty is a misnomer and used in the wrong context.

It should be used to describe objects that stun and awe, in appreciation of artistic effort and quality craftsmanship. In appreciation of Mother Nature’s innate talents, both wrathful and benign.

People are not beautiful; they are amazing and asinine, gorgeous and grotesque. Humanity is simply an enigma dressed a flesh-suit, and filled with an ennui that masquerades as happiness.

Beauty does not apply.

– In My Opinion

but you love me right?

I talk, for once, about my feelings
and you get angry, or tune me out
Or just flat out ignore
But hey, you love me right?

I can sit for hours and listen to
This and that about who and what
About everything under the sun
Until I start to discuss matters of
Somehow the conversation gets derailed
Back to you.
But hey, you love me right?

I’m struggling. Badly.
So much on my mind that I’m lost
And I have nowhere to turn.
There’s no one around that doesn’t
Appear to view me as a tool.
But hey, you love me right?

I wish I could believe it.

Reasons why I’m not allowed out…

Reasons why I am not allowed out: 
This is from a real convo, between two people that love and respect each other. One of us is a might more on the religious side… 

This is me…

“But again how do we know that Jesus was perfect? He was human, and there is historical evidence to support this. Also, there are those years of his life that are missing from all bibles. He could’ve been out there swinging his sheepherder’s hook at every single woman or married woman that he encountered, for all we know. 

We don’t know what happened. The bible was interpreted by man, written by men;  but let’s look at it this way.  Seeing as that He was human, the reality is that he, during those 15+ years,  was probably out there doing some less than prophet type stuff….what… I don’t know what a prophet does all day. No one can say that THEY don’t have certain things they wish they could hide…” 

Thankfully, she loves me 😊 and laughed ❤️ before responding …

Wet Stone

These are the truth tools;
these which I use to torture myself.
The sharpening stone must be wet and
the tools sharp to hit home.

I think I’m insane,
or at the least,
not so far from that ledgefall
into hell or beyond.
Thanks be Gods.

No emotion,
but that needling hot nothingness
and a bucketload of tears and fears
with nowhere to direct them.

I have nothing to say because –

I have no control.

Nothing will change the inevitable.
I cannot change the inevitable.
I have no control over the inevitable.

And I fucking hate it.


I warned you that I’d write a poem…

The sounds of silence.

There is no such thing
In reality.
Why? You are human.
Noise comes naturally
Y’know that crack’lin?
That rapid rushing
When hear something
And you are alone?

That’s the cry of your nervous system

How about that thud
That beats in your ears…
Can’t you hear it now?
Boom (pause) Boom (pause) (pause)
BOOM and your heart screams

That’s the song of your heart pumping blood through your veins

Silence is a misnomer for sound



Reboot juice

/And-the-people-in-it/Cursed-daystar/hiss/Death-goes-on-into perpetuity
/Mournings-suck-even for-the-departed/



Hickory duckory
Fuck, why must you be such a dick?
If buzzkill had a finger, it’d be pointed in your general vicinity
Is it so difficult to be a little less self aware, maybe?
Screw your thinly veiled, venomous barbs
I’m hanging out in drown town tonight
Let my sorrows sink or whatever
I’ll smother the mothersuckers.
Or if I must, I’ll hotbox the cabin
Leave ’em breathless and watch them fly away



Twisted Tales Patti Beeton

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