[poetic fit] believe

Every negative must have a positive. Since "The Pull" was so negative, I had to write something positive.

~*~

Encoded in a beat of similar words
From one attempting to transcend death

I find
We've forgotten simplicity
In an attempt to build a rhapsody
Of verbose phrases and rhyme

The same way
We complicate reality
Building on the negatives
Being enslaved by time

That scores upon our foreheads
Around our eyes
A line for every moment we believed it ruled us
Marking each passing, painful year

And yet life feels as if it passes quickly
Slipping through our fingers as we panic
To grasp it for a little longer
Because life is short yet years seem eternal

And life pulls us along
On the path we've chosen
Treading as if on petals, on broken glass
On shifting, transient sand

So we feel as if we have...
Felt a change
Made a change
Been a change

If life is to bear witness to how long
How long we struggle to effect a new thing
A victory against the things that hold us fast
Let life witness the length of our struggle with grace

If all the world's a stage
And all the men and women merely players
May I use the overblown cliche, forgive me
Let us play our parts by living them

Method acting has its place, however painful
To believe really in the role you play
Though it may cost you on the stage
In life it keeps you living, keeps you growing

And if I have one more piece of
Ardently cryptic advice hidden in a maze of bad poetry
It's this...
"ANSWER TELL ** PRAY ** ANSWER ** LOOK ** TELL ANSWER ** ANSWER ** TELL"

Believe

Fin

Another bout of bad poetry! Ack! Am I losing my skills?

XOXO,
Key T.
Gypsy/The Metal

[poetry] the pull

I got so pissed off having to write a love poem in Filipino that I'm writing a poem in English about love and life and choosing to take life with what it throws at you. Semi-inspired by Pierce Laudencia's essay "Make The Weather".

~*~

Shut your eyes to the reality of the situation,
Where beauty is in madness and madness your destination.
Step up to the plate and face truth in the eye.
Accept the fact that what your heart speaks is a lie.

This is the price you pay for the deadly game you've played.
To be authentic there must be a shred of authenticity.
But you never realized the liability of your transparency.
We can all see right through you. I can see right through you.

I can see right through me.

This is the pull of life, get over it.
Do not choose to dwell on the things you cannot control.
Keep the pattern of your life unpredictable but guided.
Your heart is a traitor but it does not always lie.

Face head-on what attempts to consume you
Be it love or a feeling like love or simply the irony of the situation.
No man can be an island or an ice king forever.
There will always be something to shatter your defenses.

The walls you so carefully build up...they are meaningless.
At any point, you yourself will choose to break them for a cause.
And once that battle has been fought and won, lick your wounds.
Feel the backfiring of the plan you thought would see you through.

It saw you through all right, but at a price.

This is the pull of insanity.
This is a demon-dance on air.
You must, you must resist the fierce beating
In your head, like an Electric cantata.

You cannot deny what you have created.
You cannot deny your past.
You must move forward with the consequences, and the issues
The battle scars which will run so deep that they will rent you through.

You cannot use this pain as an excuse to turn off life.
Or hold it on pause, because life cannot be paused
It must be lived through to the next tomorrow
Else your whole life be in vain

The pain will teach you, as long as you master it
Without pain you cannot see pleasure
Or beauty without ugliness
The paradox of ironies that shouts and screams LIFE!

You must patch yourself up again.

You must resist.
You must resist.
You MUST resist...

You must resist the pull.

Fin.

I think this is sort of like "stream of consciousness" fiction except it's stream of consciousness poetry. I have no idea what the heck I was saying, half the time. Dang. Probably my worst work EVER. I'll delete this someday, just not now.

XOXO,
Key T.
The Metal

[Poem] Pretty Girls Dance

Based on my feeling about the now-finished School Musicale and the upcoming prom.

Pretty Girls Dance

The scent of the air was sweet and tense
The sweat rolled in beads round pearly face
Painted with iridescent colors of false loveliness
Hair done up, pins in every nook and cranny

Swell of a song that keeps on going
Even past the first few notes of this song
That's younger than time, younger than rhyme
Yet it's been going strong for so long

It's the feeling of weightlessness when I spin
And I ignore the audience watching through The Fourth Wall
The fact it's a wall says it all, and I seize this opportunity
Because I know it's my last - very last, very last - chance to feel this

Like the Earth is spinning beneath my feet
And I'm lifted by clouds of magic and music
The notes swell with each step and I ignore
The fact that I'm teetering in stilletos that might catch my petticoat

But too soon the song is over and the lights are dim
It's supposed to be warm in the stage lights but I'm cold
I know it's over but as I exit in the dark I hold my head high
High-five my partner, thank you for helping me fly

Unfortunately girls can't soar on their own in waltzes.
But if they could, I would join hands with myself and fly
Across the boards as if treading air
And I loved the moment, the feeling, the dance, the stars in my eyes

It's the key to flying I try to capture days later
As I run up stairs and the wind threads its fingers through my hair
But it's different now, because the song is gone and the beat is off
And I stand there, in jogging pants, feeling graceless

Dancing on clouds of manmade smoke
Too bad it's my last dance for the year (for my high school life?)
The prom is looming but my eyes are starless
At fifteen I learned only pretty girls get to dance

Fin.