“Truth is like poetry, and no-one fucking likes poetry.”
Ahem.. lol.. Hehe 🙊
Metamorphosis
...
Within my chrysalis
I spin
gossamer threads
of
visual proposition
lining and embellishing
my dressing room and
creating what next I will
become
Intimately portraying
the finest details
sounds
feelings
smells
mannerisms
performing matinee
dress rehearsals
learning lines
My intuition
glowing at
hum frequency
Changing hue;
trying contrasting options
like shoes
until the glass slipper fits
and it is time for
Show Time
emerging for the next
star performance
Mitosis
...
Cells splitting
a binary existence
at molecular level
one becomes
two
Mirrored
and reflected through
life
our twins
magnetise and collect
around us
assimilated through adoration
We connect
we covet
and pursue
the yin to yang
Female to male
not of outward manifestation
but of exuberance
Parallel continuation
Phycological behaviour;
our internal appearance
emotional orientation
mirrored in enchantment
the most powerful
instrument
humanly procurable
Projection of devotion in
kind
We summon our
souls amplification
towards us
Sailor
…
Trying to keep an
even keel
as jitters
want to play
tricks on me
Eyes on the horizon
Squeezing perception in and out
like a jellyfish moving
only getting
tighter and sharper
until I buckle
Trying to release the pressure valve
Drive the bow through the wave
rather than sinking
below
to lie
still and prostate
watching the remaining
bubbles
rise