***Disclaimer***
I wrote this poem whilst in the grip of a bad mood. I decided what better way to explore the emotion than in a public forum such as this one. So as you know me to be quite a jovial fellow, by now, this little bit of darkness has passed like the clouds, and in doing so revealed the sun. This poem is about no one in perticular, I just projected my feeling onto an imagined situation and let slip the words of war. Such is this dual universe, where pain is a counter balance to joy. And if I was fearful of indulging such temporal states, then I would not be an artist, nor true to myself. And if I claim to be both, my actions must reflect that. The proof is in the pudding, enjoy my bitching :)

It is hard to dance when the shoe is on the other foot
And then the other shoe drops with such subtle and fierce embarassment.
It has become a rare event, when gifts are heaven sent,
That actions partaken with passion, become a black event.
For I am not the adman shilling you McGolden dreams,
Winking and gunning for some make believe scene.
I have broken skin on these fingertips only so that there is cream,
Having thinned out the impurities and soley presenting gleam.
A diamond is only a stone, it is in the sparkle that the value stuns.
Quizzically pissed, as this is spit upon, coquettishly smiling, baiting me to run.
And that is something long learned from. I am (not) that young.
The bell that knells tells me of the real rung
Reminds of the ladder of sacrifice it comes from.
Shall I lose face in this chase?
Up to my waist in the waste?
Sour the taste of embrace?
Or do I turn, yet again, to the bridge I call faith?


Choose your adventure:
(poet offers the nomenclature)

Go left:

Go, you are left,
Maybe not home but certainly not here
A fijian river god could not be more crystal clear
Forever severed, scapel surgeon, slice is deft
These hands are washed clean
This collar is popped fresh
Contemporary as art
Either a masterpiece or a mess
Would not be the omega point
Of the process of wrong guess
It is my perogative to embibe my ima{gin}e
Rolling dice is living life
And you cannot always win
So in this uninhibited, once uninhabited, emotional spin
I give creedance to the sequence,
Once forbidden,
And deliver the most tactical, tactful, fuck you of my career
Cause it's all in the game,
Here's some mocha brown bitter, cheers.
Like a fanciful hat on a backbraided bouffant, there is a lot on my mind, (by design)
And let my naked wrist speak, I do not have the time.
To indulge underdeveloped placations, past frustrations, or scary live in skeletons
So let's skip the-let's be friends-wasn't it better then-three am-telephonic reminiscent session-and...
breathe, grieve and move on
I behest on my breast that yes I tried my best
And like a life abandoned planet it was taken for granted
So use this fork to cut a new path
The bomb, the blast, the aftermath
The death, destruction, and news broadcasts
Are now sentenced to solitary confinement
To ponder crimes and punishment

Go right:

Rain, rain go away, it will go all right
Bask again in the birthright of fresh sunlight
There is one thing alone that claims perfection
Love is the wound and love is the weapon
Too much dissection on a slight never sighted
Heartfelt contraventions stop heartless intentions
Ask for trust and none is given
Hypocricy is an outhouse that liars live in
And the truth is the mortar that steadies the building
That shields the elements from where the heart is living
One finger pointed towards, and returned in triplicate
Do not shatter the tower with a moment of lividness
This is a gifted experience,
An opportunity, no, race for backspace,
It is a cry for understanding.
There is an imbalance and the third eye is scanning
One weed in a garden is no reason to napalm
Nuture the nature and reach out to the palm fronds
Overcome with love, do not desecrate with hate
Patience is penance, and the wait comes with weight
And swallowed pride is not the most hallowed of tastes
Use the marvel off the blossom to aspire and inspire
And the light of truth will dispel parasite pain,
As the sun to vampires.
This is a test of faith, and if the test wasn't great
would the grade not slope
and the hope suffocate ?
The struggle alone is proof
Put it to good use
Remember that leaves turn colours
Whilst what remains are the roots.