turning a whisper into a tornado

humanity under construction

staring into faces of monsters

cruel jokes built of shame and disgust

such loathsome lusus naturae

at some time we all draw up blueprints

and build our beautiful facades

fake fronts, fake faces, fake persona’s

silicone, lithium, loreal, lsd

the wonderment of living

far away from the core

of the life that is going down

souls hidden in helium balloons

bobbing and bopping, shuck and jive

in correlation with the down-there-shit

it feels safe up high where no one looks

conspiracy, manipulation, trickery, intrigue

leave a tingling sensation and advanced sex appeal

there is something in the velvet voice of a liar

the seductive eyes of madness

capturing passion like fireflies

chasing excitement with fishing line

labs, lights, lamps, overseas shipping

fermented grapes or stealing change

there is always a way to get a bit further away

to rise just a bit more

more sex, more money, more power, more drugs

but as every balloon-lover knows….

at some point it all comes back down

tragedy and vanity, the great wake up calls

sending all that was up down in fire balls

the arrogant will walk through the ashes

dressed in the emperor’s new clothes

naked to the world but too foolish to know it

others break, cry, scream, dig

temporary insanity at it’s finest

lunar and solar love affairs

tucking away the masks and wigs

purging the lies and insecurities

discovering all the beauty within

allowing fingers to become calloused

cards shuffling, laughter, pitter-patter

the smell of yeast rising and garlic sauteeing

baked apples and gingerbread and cardamom

hugs and embraces and humanity and kindness

holding chins parallel to the floor

because no matter what there is nothing to be ashamed of

“out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars”

-khalil gibran


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