THE BIRTH OF CREATIVITY
Blue sky
Ocean blue
Ocean spray
Wet warm cooling in the breeze
A wave is born
Then it dies
Another is born
Another dies
The ceaseless cycle
Of creation and destruction
Castaway
Happy to be alive
Bound to the sea for so long
He comes back to
Hear it smell it taste it feel it
Or he feels ungrounded
Funny he thought he’d never
Want to see it again
It brings up too much of the angst
Can’t live with it
Can’t live without it
Crack!!!!
A bottle hits the crags
Having ridden the waves across the vast ocean
No one hears it break
A genie escapes
Lissome silent
She walks up the boardwalk
Long muslin dress
Whiter against the blue
Blowing in the inconsistent wind
It clings to her legs on the east
Billowing to the west
Reminding him of ghosts of ships
He’d seen when lost at sea
Her hair completely tousled
An asymmetrical silhouette
Splash!
She’s gone
Gone too soon
She did not even turn around once
For him to see if that really was her
Outlines of her face and figure
Leading angels and demons
Is what he sees
Treading the road to perdition
Is she real?
Who is she?
Sorceress?
Waif?
Castaway like him?
Gypsy?
Mermaid?
I hear demons getting closer
Clearer
More dangerous
By their proximity
She returns
She turns the numbers
On a combination lock
Click! The last one’s in place
A trap door opens
Dark powerful wild
A beast from within his own psyche
Primal forceful strong
Leaps out to meet him
Other beasts come out to greet him
Unleashing a vault of horror
There’s no time to think
Only to react
She shouldn’t have done this
Spiteful bitch
She turns
A half smile
A baby nod
“Catch me if you can”
And disappears again
“I hate her”
In a flash
The anguish of Paradise lost
And the joy of Paradise regained
Melt into one another
Into nothing
Then become more than nothing
Something new is being born
Men are afraid of holding babies sometimes
And babies must sleep while beasts are being dealt with anyways
The archetypal parents make their presence felt
The tap on the shoulder
The “Attaboy!”
The “I told you so”
All come back to comfort and cajole
And seemingly to protect
But somehow it is not the right thing at the right time
The baby wails
“I’m a father now”
There’s no time to think
He can only react
So what will he do?
“When I look back on this
Will I be proud of myself?
Where’s the baby?
Where did she go?
Are they safe?
I’m not safe
I’ve known to fight the enemy
Since the day I was born
But the enemy within
Is a completely different issue”
Gnash
Growl
Blood and flesh
The horrible smell of war
“I’ve become numb
Toward the simpering baby
Afraid to acknowledge
He needs me like I needed my father”
A pair of eyes
Like floaters at an opthamologist’s
Distract him
Another pair opens slowly
Sleepily
Full of promise
Little but wise
A choice is born
To protect that which needs to be protected
The world slowly
Falls back in orbit
From where it had strayed
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