...

Truth is like poetry, and no-one fucking likes poetry.
— The Big Short

Ahem.. lol.. Hehe πŸ™Š


Metamorphosis

...

Β 

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

Β 

Mitosis

...

Β 

Cells splitting

a binary existence 

at molecular level

one becomes

two 

Β 

Mirrored

and reflected through

life 

our twins

magnetise and collect

around us

assimilated through adoration

Β 

We connect 

we covet

and pursue

the yin to yang

Female to male

not of outward manifestation

but of exuberance

Parallel continuation

Β 

Phycological behaviour;

our internal appearance

emotional orientation 

mirrored in enchantment

the most powerful 

instrument

humanly procurable

Β 

Projection of devotion in 

kind

We summon our

souls amplification 

towards us

Β 

Sailor

…

Β 

Trying to keep an

even keel

as jitters

want to play 

tricks on me

Eyes on the horizon

Β 

Squeezing perception in and out

like a jellyfish moving

only getting 

tighter and sharper

until I buckle

Trying to release the pressure valve

Β 

Drive the bow through the wave 

rather than sinking 

below

to lie

still and prostate

watching the remaining 

bubbles

rise

Β