The Beauty Unseen
A Poem on the Romanticizing of an Unafraid Voice
Fowardly following the subconscious mind
From the inner workings of the gears that grind
Presented back with a paper and pen
Presented craft of a woman
Telling a past of untethered sin
Beyond something that had started to rust
Left to corrode
From too much time, and a lack of trust
Word by word all of this was spoken
From a valley they say, is deeper than the ocean
The tongue lingers on the words with devotion
Every syllable, each conceived notion
When the ear picks it up
The mouth starts coaxing
Both fixated
Until they feel the silence reapproaching
About the Creator
A. Calderon
I am a writer, musician, and artist trying to share my personal creations across a wide range of media and genre. My mission is for my works to be as multifaceted as possible, to create a "something for everyone" feel.
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Dinner
Spending several days in dead ends, the mind bends in odd spaces and unfamiliar places. As real and resilient as the adaptation she faces. As key as legends on the maps that were made to find a way so that the repetition of loss would not replay. As forward as the front lines at the core of each war which if one wants to progress they should not ignore. First, ascend in versatility with the defense to defend. Then heal and negotiate to mend with camouflage and empathy to blend, wrapped up in cognizance to compliment. This what it takes to make it. Takes a lifetime to be real and two seconds to fake it. The trail's just so worn out and outdated. More would love these lessons if the methods weren't so hated. It's hard to look at; it's blinding. They're buying Gucci jackets looking for the silver lining. Like a confused kid seeking while they're hiding. That one broken tape that keeps rewinding but it's your favorite so you keep trying to play it; no minding. The commitment to it is oddly binding. But I guess that's just the deal. Some people are hunched over nibbling on scraps for a meal with better off kids from dysfunctional families who steal. Running up and down the sidewalks so concrete; its real. Around the corner, they open it up and break the seal. Just hidden from view. If you heard about you probably already knew. Saying that's my cue it's a touchy subject for me I don't know how I'll do. Keep in mind satisfaction is not guaranteed. We have to earn our keep to keep what we earn. We're all a work in progress, meant not to regret, but learn. Be you on you're on your own, or in the fleet. Whether you're crawling through the mud, or running on your feet. Shivering in the cold, or sweating in the heat. Til the better weather with the bushes and the lawn trimmed, neat. Through trials and tribulations til we all eat.
By A. Calderon5 years ago in Poets
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