* I originally wrote this poem back in November 2012 from a prompt my friend Karen gave to me, and it now seems appropriate to post.
Teeter Totter
The sea engulfs, waves that roar
their voices heard
from where I perch
afraid to inch forward, this tightrope
a slick balancing act
between the past
and present,
as jealous sky spins on my right.
I feel the trickle of tears
beads of sweat
that trigger paralysis;
I must move forward,
confront hostile realities
honestly,
accept their approval or criticism
without hindrance of my progress.
Life sways in the balance;
I press on despite
this notion of teetering
on the edge
of life, death, flying, falling,
decisions that affect
my ultimate success, derision.
Whoever declared existence
would be paved
with pearly rose-beds
forgot to announce the thorny truths.
The true reality? We create paths
to follow or not without wisdom
of how fate will play her last ace.
I slip, catch the rope,
hang on by a hair
scream for some kind soul
to bail me out of bitter lies,
contradictory facts,
to pave the way
so I may see in obscured light
- climb mountains not foraged,
as wails reverberate into an abyss.
I pull myself up by tethered bootstraps,
while anger turns to hurt
then to resentment,
but fury awakens courage instilled
in crevices of tissue
hidden from consciousness,
as I grasp the platform
on the other side panting for air.
What I gleaned is this:
memories hold us hostage, encircle faith
like a vulture that feeds
on cadaverous cattle.
They obliterate futures of hope and faith
terrified we can achieve the spectacular
while the present
stuns us into submission.
Time for an oil change, lubricate ideas,
tighten loose screws,
exfoliate crisp falsehoods
embrace a new way of existence,
and relish in satisfaction.
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