barbtries a blog: <i>reggae dance</i>

I stand on the sand, and I'm rocking grief to sleep in my arms.

Saturday, October 04, 2003

reggae dance

Ennui

I am muted by these colors,
Painted into a mutant
Has-been wannabe, who am I?

Lines have so many meanings.
Colors so light and so dark.
What is this bereft thing doing?

Faking? what is fake? Is the poem
a joke, did the painting
Make you cringe? Where am I?

In a studio or a study;
at book or easel or blog,
When am I who I am?

How will I know the moment?
Doubts beat out from a strobe
In the ceiling. Is this a migraine?

Is this surfeit or want?
Am I rich, am I destitute,
And will money ever be the subject?

Either way. Any way. When I am slapped
About the head and bones. Rotisseried
Like a nice rump roast. Bored and less,

Sick of my pastimes, wondering why.
Once again why...but why
Don't I get off my ass and move?

- posted by barbara @ 10/04/2003 08:38:00 PM

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