...

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

Ahem.. lol.. Hehe πŸ™Š


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