Perils of a Writer

Alarms blare, cities fall up
And my hands, scared but tenderly, cup
Away from the blue, away from the sky
A small, small piece of an everyday lie

To class, to class now I must go
To put on my face, to put on a good show
A pleasure to see, what pleasure indeed
For all who are met in presence and need

The quibble goes on, like a meaningless fray
Whispers in sunshine, “A play, A play”
And those are the words that begin the song
A jester’s dance, a stage for the throng

And I, I dance along to the tune
Mindless and dead, not nearly immune
For who can resist the faceless, the masses?
A soul colored white, is the only that passes

Ah, but to truly master the act
To take hold, to justly and rightly impact
There! I say, would be a stance untethered
A work that could age, become old and weathered

Yet efforts are scorned, the tempo increased
To keep it all in, to lock up the beast
There! They all cry, is the true test of faith
To wither, to crumble, becoming a wraith

White is the color, as white knows naught
The icy blue, a truth that is bought
By stopping the dance, by standing still
To let it all in, to breathe, to fulfill

And I do not cry out, I do not stop dancing
This is a fine art, the art of romancing
Those who hide, a face in the veil
Controlling, all knowing, silent and pale

Each step I take, is a step I know
A place where the Others allow me to grow
A family, a future, a place in a line
Where the dance never ends, but is brimming with wine

This is the mold, the place where I fit
A humble abode, sturdy, well lit
The dime is not heavy, just strings attached
A gloved puppeteer, not easily matched

And truly, the steps themselves are not hard
My soul is still white, frail, unmarred
But oft have I wondered, at the end of the day
What have I lost, what is taken away?

To home, to home now I must go
To build a boat, to pray for a flow
Of white waters, clear skies, a path well worn
Sets and paces, now I so do mourn

The piper, he wails, laughs and taunts
The torment is fair, he owns what he flaunts
Jealous, I am broken, not whole, not one
White, white, I slowly do shun

For laying, lying, what difference persists?
Beyond the shoals, further into the mists
A mystery, a tale, a dance not writ
And then there’s a thought, a twitch, and a flit

Arise! It yells, loudly in my ear
These are not truths, no vengeance to fear
And magic, sweet magic, a pen in my hand
A chair that sits, no feet perched on land

The boat rocks from white, to blue, back again
I teeter and totter, a conflicted helmsmen
The song, ever present, builds in my mind
Chains writhe round my ankles, burning, entwined

The dance does not end, it pauses, unsure
These are new places, not one of them pure
The price is quite steep, the dealer dressed black
And I knowingly, knowingly, sign for the Pact

True blue, finally! Bliss at last
Wind in the sails, ropes coiled to the mast
To see, to blue sea, to truly discover
Anything, everything, simply uncover

The lie that they told, the lie they still tell
That sucks and pulls, a deal to sell
It is the hand, still chained to the table
Meek, but willing, scared yet quite able

A pen, a chair, a moment alone
And the maiden hand is born from the crone
And then I can’t stop it, the ink welling up
Blue and evil, truly, wonderfully corrupt

My feet dangle down, aloft in the chair
The song changes melody, a sweeter affair
And the words melt away all thoughts of the fear
I am light, I am sky, boundless and clear

The beast roars inside, proud at the helm
Mastery, mastery, complete in this realm!
She grins like a lion, plays like a cat
Eating the words, growing stronger and fat

With each new tide, a new pen does it bring
A bell, a whistle, a small sapphire ring
Noises and treasures, too precious to trade
For all the sacrifices my soul has made

But the faceless, the veils, they will not give in
Slowly they remind me, remind me of sin
The chain on my hand grows heavy with time
My feet touch the ground, a prison for my crime

I struggle, I fight, the beast bares her teeth
What madness is this? I cry in bequeath,
I paid, I paid! I gave up the white light
But they laugh and chortle, amused by my plight

This world is real, you cannot escape
They dig their fingers, snug in my nape
Freedom, it is temporary, fleeting like a bird
What you thought, really dreamt, we simply abjured

To bed now, to bed must I really go?
There are still many waters, many places to row
But alas, the clocks tick on and on
And tomorrow, tomorrow, the words will be gone

For another dance is soon underway
A new audience, a new theater, a new place I must play
The boat has to wait, the blue has to settle
The beast in my belly taught not to meddle

Inside I live, in my skin do I die
The judgment is final, no room, not to cry
So into the covers I nestle to bed
To wait, to wait, for my story to be read

The dreams are all blue, but timid in morn
I am burdened, completely alone, and forlorn
For even in slumber, I know all the truths
I traded, I bargained, I paid for my muse

Alarms blare, cities fall up
And my hands, scared but tenderly, cup
Away from the blue, away from the sky
Less and less of an everyday lie

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741