Lightly Crazed (Poetry)
22nd May 2011
Close up nothing is perfect —
unsmooth — the surface flawed by life
and age-corrupted
a subtle scarring — hairline fractures run
with multi-intersections —
the skin drawn taut and thinned
to show its cracks.
The image weathered to a grid — erratic
with imagined co-ordinates that might tell
the time — the place —
an invisible arrow pointing
“YOU ARE HERE” — as though
this could ever be significant or relevant
when there is no map of answers — no definitives.
In a certain light it’s hard to tell
how deep the crazing goes —
a kinder focus ponders from a distance —
takes a broader view —
allows a blur to soften edges
and give reality a chance to fade —
become the fiction tolerant
of defective beauty masquerading all
its bastard versions of ideal —
a creeping shy insanity
that settles — soothes —until the questing mind accepts
impressions — first and last.
unsmooth — the surface flawed by life
and age-corrupted
a subtle scarring — hairline fractures run
with multi-intersections —
the skin drawn taut and thinned
to show its cracks.
The image weathered to a grid — erratic
with imagined co-ordinates that might tell
the time — the place —
an invisible arrow pointing
“YOU ARE HERE” — as though
this could ever be significant or relevant
when there is no map of answers — no definitives.
In a certain light it’s hard to tell
how deep the crazing goes —
a kinder focus ponders from a distance —
takes a broader view —
allows a blur to soften edges
and give reality a chance to fade —
become the fiction tolerant
of defective beauty masquerading all
its bastard versions of ideal —
a creeping shy insanity
that settles — soothes —until the questing mind accepts
impressions — first and last.