Sharpness

Refreshing are the lines, is the structure,
we know where they lead.
Equations so predictable,
we stay busy doing predictable things,
refining our formula.
A walking contradiction- our effort versus our care.
The seed that gives us life versus what we produce.
Amour tightly suffocating honesty, and the resulting ennui overpowers our desire for release.
Our dreams remind us of all we restrict.
We live when we sleep.

Value

The absence of abrasion is gray.
A pile of dust of all that was washed away,
of all that was purged.
Pushing the dust into a pile creates only a mirage of what used to be.
An atrophic sandstorm.
The weight that was carried now comprehensible.
A lighter, reluctant stride remains,
and dust falls from pockets now filled with daffodils.

Transparency

Curtains and spotlights were evident for the first time.
Lines coming from the mouths of the influenced and the minds of the influencers.
Some didn’t know,
and some did but didn’t care enough to change.
“I don’t want to act anymore,” I said.
The director’s disappointment was almost as apparent as my need to quit.
“You’ll be lost without it.”
And I was for a time, temporarily floundering.
I used to live outside of water, now submersion is the only thing keeping me afloat.
I see the illusions of safety holding others captive on someone else’s stage.

Contrast

Dropping what remained of my expression-
wholesome deliverance,
a deflated party balloon.
Gasping for air.
No longer objectified, but the observer of objectification.
The swiveling parlor mirror has turned,
and fluorescent lights shine past onto the next thing.
Plucked from the stage.
Planted into the crowd.
Don’t create music they said,
as they turned to watch the show.

Ponies

In the blink of an eye
I am gone again.
Out of the hellscape
into the reverie filled with magic and ponies,
escaping the nonsense and phonies…
who are all just trying to make it.
Are we trying to make it? Fake it? Break it?
Well of course, as much as we can.
Holding onto the string,
the number of things that maintain our delusion’s luster.
A girl dances along with scissors in her hands
tempting to Cut Cut Cut!
I watch from a distance
hoping she’ll miss it while the ponies sing But But But!
hold loosely to that,
free your hands for this, and come to the water, relax.
The stream moves freely, swiftly
still calm
go on, jump in and live.