I want to see the beautiful again

To see the speckled shades of freckles on her face

Notice the lilt and nuance of her voice,

That ranges from a land not native to her birthplace.


I don’t want to waste your time, and in essence,

Not waste mine either, but

Saving face is an age-old brand of propriety –

It’s lying through bated breath,

Hampered smiles that hesitated to tell

Truth under duress –

When duress easily affects my being,

I wonder why I allow it to be so.


Why not be the maniacal voice,

Yelling, a frenetic, hollowed

Question statement that ends on a shriek.

Why not be the unpredictable Jane,

The one who claims not ignorance,

But sheer knowledge

And is unafraid of acknowledging that

Improper knowledge which others make light of,


joke about – c’mon, this life can be lived

With shields that spend

Most of their time raised and wavering –

Bending to pressure

The force of which is wholesome

But keeps the barrier translucent

And open to everything.



Author: gerbilette

Write, edit, be. Write, love, poetry.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s