Archives for posts with tag: presumptuousness

it has the same piercing stench at 5,500 feet as it does at sea level. but i can’t respond to generalities, and art isn’t meant to be justified or explained – art is reflective.

art can’t condone or oppose a belief system, it can only be the impetus of a question – one that is deeply individualized. when done well and observed by an honest person, art can remind you that humanity is not a white-washed magic kingdom. when chewed on in humility, art can bolster your deepest convictions by exposing your inner demons. ignorance is not bliss, unless it also comes with sedation.

why is authenticity such a thing to be feared? why does this fear send us straight to jail? “do not pass [a day in his shoes], do not collect [your thoughts with empathy].”

maybe it’s because people externalize and make excuses for underlying fears they no longer acknowledge sentiently and would never reveal to another human. especially so when they’ve spent a long time constructing the escapism of a theme park existence around them.

it’s true, artists & poets paint whispers behind doors down dark corridors. but they’re your whispers. if it’s the only way to cope that you know you can form them up into neat little skeletons and file them away in a multitude of sparkling clean cedar closets. eventually the closets become a maze, the maze takes on the appearance of an existence and that facade of an existence becomes your life. and when all these closets catch fire, you’ll be fighting for breath as the world you’ve spent so long building comes crashing down around you in a mountain of charred bones – the smell of your rottenness fear wafting around you.

to quote shakespeare: “don’t shoot the messenger.”

“i would change my ways…no, never-mind…”

by JTW
©2010 JTW “jtwhitaker.com” All rights reserved.

thank you to @raneedillon for hosting me last week over at her place.

i ♥ ambiguous metaphor. it allows the reader to paint their own emotions, fears & desires onto an open canvas that i’m priviledged to provide. occasionally, the imagination of my readers goes far beyond the scope of my intended message. for better or for worse, when that happens i know i’ve produced a good piece.

ranee was kind enough to inspire me with the following prompt:

a poem trapped in the stir crazy mind…desperate for the relief found on alabaster pages…

below is the resulting poem & some explanatory prose. i don’t usually provide interpretation for my poetry, but i thought the subject matter of this piece made for a nice prose accompaniment.

release

springing forth inside a maze-like cavern
i toil in sinuous oscillation toward my destination
to be combusted by the friction between your fingertips

my purpose, your utility
building into the crescendo of our release
ebony waves crashing on the shores of our alabaster universe

i believe everyone has poetry lying dormant inside the deep wells of the soul. blood pumps from the heart, feeding & carrying oxygen through our bodies. so too, words of passion & authenticity flow within the soul like a heavy petroleum-waiting only for the thrust of creativity and ignition of life to be caught ablaze.

we are all closet poets. we commute through life meditating on yesterday & today, formulating a plan for tomorrow. all of this quiet contemplation is energy that if we stopped long enough to record, would fill up volumes upon volumes of self-analysis and universal truth.

the next time life happens, write it down. let the emotions trapped inside your mind flow from your heart to your arm, to your fingertips. let your stream of consciousness bleed onto paper. you just might find that your internal poet is the kindred spirit you’ve always wanted to meet but never knew existed. without fail, you’ll experience a profound release, as the pressure bubbling inside gives birth to the tangible.

“my gift is my song and, this one’s for you…”

by JTW
©2010 JTW “jtwhitaker.com” All rights reserved.

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