Friday, August 3, 2012

27JUN04

Let us start with the very first entry in the very first legacy book followed by a poem from my personal anthology...

Entry Date: June 27, 2004
There is always someone that sticks out in your mind even after a huge lapse of time. The way they smiled, laughed, looked, smelled, and walked. The intelligence that they held, their convictions, and their stubbornness. The way they could always push your buttons or calm you down. The times that they cried your tears and sang you to sleep when you were sick. Sometime ago that was me. The always caring, sharing, empathizing, stubborn, and strong willed girl. I believe that I have always been the scared, masked player on stage acting my role well enough to buy me an award. I'm always the singer on stage with the blues in my gown with all the audience's attention, but the only words they hear are the ones that reflect through the microphone. Always the artist painting beautiful fields of marigolds and daisies yet behind the print the anger, fear, and shame still lie. Always the poet whose words bring truth but never her truth shall rise. Yet never the lover, never the savior, never the mother, or the shrew.

~Painted~
March 7, 2000

You painted up your face, girl,
your rags made into gown
You hid the one thing that really mattered, truth,
and pranced in your glorious crown.

You're only fooling yourself, girl,
you now are as clear as glass,
You've faded your loving tears,
and treated them like their time had passed.

You're beauty is gone, child,
you are foolish and naive,
no one there to claim you,
right through your painted tears they see.

Everyone knows you're fake, girl,
even more so than all the others
You tried to join the shallow elite,
but to them your paint is smothered.

You're trying to win a losing battle, girl,
you can't possibly succeed this time
You've no idea that you've exposed yourself
for you, they wouldn't even give a dime.

Your rose lips and ocean eyes can't help you, girl,
your crown broken into two
You are alone,
it is only you.

You've turned into something you hate, foolish girl,
the snobs at which you used to laugh
You scoffed at them before
but now you're at their mercy on the floor of deceit.

A bit of advice, girl,
you've made your own fate
Lose your gown, silly girl,
and be careful how you use your paint.

The first entry of my legacy book is accompanied by a very detailed pencil drawing.



This drawing later went on to be a tattoo that is on my left shoulder. A friend, Stone, who used to work at Big Stick on Fort Myers Beach helped me mold my pencil drawing into a magnificent tattoo that holds a lot of meaning for me.

No comments:

Post a Comment