a critique aimed at myself
off the mark
Within the grand scheme of all things, I think…
I lay focus on subjects, topics I consider succinct
examinations of details within a spacial awareness.
to dream...to dream without such flooding fears, to touch those stars afar
not be hampered or laden by such thoughts so near
I long to soar, to reach out for freedom
loosen all imagined chains of oppression.
is not this world but a crowded, open stage…?
and, are we not all just fleeting actors…?
vying for a central pose within the push and shove of celebrity
exiting left when speech and time would come to its seminal end
I would seemingly play the role of jester, for you
don the clown’s visage for laughter, here after
lay hidden all my tears of self-betrayal
those illusions close to those conjurers’ tricks
such sleight of hand, that sudden hidden coin of surprise
unyielding weapons of neutrality, that
spy their chance and confuse the mind
once again soundly duped, and beaten
fallen for that fool’s philosophy
outmoded and dated in its grandeur and mediocrity
…an art of artistic artistry
drawn in symmetry, for the mirror tells no lies
It cuts and sheds life’s rich blood in search of pure honesty
craving perfection, without marks or defections
though I wane...for it is failure!
fill my walls with images of divine divinity, of wanton expectancy, so I can
pine for their beauty and greatness, of nothing less
nothingness, an emptiness of soul and inner being
laid to waste and dormant, yearning for a devout existence
surely this equilibrium is Mother Nature in singular balance
a cold elevation from which to stand and rise upon
to make and take just moral aim from
and yet our existence is a feigned equality, flawed and hollowed
a sufferance of man and kind, bound and blinded
lead away from suffering and plight by glittering prizes
sense found senseless, ‘til all is hopeless
how grand it must be to feel the aroma of anointment
that fettering waste of appointment