Flawed
Forms reduced to
Nothing but what the world wants
To see. Based on
Television and
Magazines and
Celebrities. But I am
Proud of me
Proud of
Legs that tap lightly across floors
Legs that cross in a flash of
Tawny skin, scarred yet
Alluring as they prance
Through pulsating grasses and
Across marble slabs in a
Percussion of rock and skin
Proud of
Angles that jut out and
Make themselves known
Against curves that roil and
Betray time as it should be instead to
Press the fast-forward button
While the angles
Stay true to what I am
Proud of
Wheels that turn endlessly
Throughout my mind they caress
The cerebral cortex and the amygdala
Right and Left come together as
Creativity is managed logically and
Logic is transformed creatively
To make art
In the only way I can
The only way my heart and
My body will let me
Proud of
Eyes that see more than
Most would want
Eyes that will beguile you and
Lead you into me to
Dance along the brink of my soul and
Tip into me and take of
My core in a brave plunge of
Emotion and awareness
Of pain and longing and need so profound
That God would shed tears in an attempt to
Share in my unreserved happiness
Proud of
Dreams that are forthright in
Their peculiarity and
Brilliance in things that
Would normally cause
Cowardice to dominate my being and
Display my hubris at the
Stake to burn with witches that
Refuse to succumb to the
Lunacy that properly rhymes with
Society
FLAWED, I may be
But,
It is only by the definition that
The current conventions will allow
To those of us whose minds
Have not yet become
Full,
Robust Gardens of Eden in which
The center holds the Tree of Knowledge and
Has not yet born fruit that has
Ripened enough
To be considered
Desirable