Wednesday, September 21, 2005

A 20 Something Epiphany

I wanted to be a dancer
Dissecting spirits, destroying defenses
compelling with armslegstorso
Tearing down stronghold with flesh...

I wanted to sing
Wailing tales of haunted harmony
With words someone might
hear, recognize, cry for…

Inside screams the painter
Frustrated in never knowing
the satin of oils...

the pale of watercolor...
the weight of matter
in her hands.

The writer whispers still
Telling sweet sinful stories…
Violent rememberings…silenced plights of pain…
All demanding to be told

But now

I am only schism
Warped dichotomy of reason,
and of soul.

3 Comments:

Blogger Ms_Kenesha said...

I absolutely love this. Really shows the 20 something angst of not being what you'd always thought you'd be. But there's hope.

9:51 AM  
Blogger Tray said...

That is a HUGE compliment. Especially coming from you. :)

10:10 AM  
Blogger Jonezin4Paris said...

This is a beautiful poem...Though the emotion, the angst of the poem is painful and angry, I love the lyricalness (is that a word) of it all. Definitely captures the reality of life.

3:36 PM  

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