(January 16, 2006 – San Francisco at Shawn Huddleston’s)
I have felt the sun rise and set my years on Earth
With the constant future blowing against my face,
Solar winds of Evolution having their way with me , I, willing…
My life started out with the perfect deception
Knowing everything, understanding
That I was unable to express anything
Childhood frustrations of unending attention to beauty
With the unnerving lack of recognition of my abilities
Only when I was vocal, did the comments of potential surface
It seemed when I most happy, I was always being silenced
The paradox of my life, I speak now when I am NOT happy
I learned to quiet myself to retain my happiness
Desire to communicate did not always bring me rewards
Even if I have spent my life honing my forensics speaking skills
Days have affected my immediate methods of chosen words
Unprocessed episodes of my partners became verbal barricades
Defenses causing me more grief than it should
Indigenously indifferent reactions destroyed rapport for good
If there have been moments when I could have apologized
I never could say the right words to take it away so I refrained
When I wanted to say “I love you” they always were afraid to know
My eyes became my voice, in turn becoming deceptive windows
My lovers I took like jackals would the carcasses from a lion pride
Ravenous love, the excess of human nature, a substitution
Characteristics I despised in others, I employed as my defense
Instruments to create the momentary sensation of ecstasy
Presentations of erotic perfection, actions of sincere passions
Deployed when the moment is precise, recoiled post-climax
Leaving many obsessed with recreating the first encounter
Knowing there would be hearts broken and heartbreakers
I did not choose this artificial representation over true love
I only chose to feel real love as I was making love in lust
What glory do I know, is not my ideal glory
But it upholds a Shakespearean frame of mind
For I do feel better, though I have loved in loss
I thank God that I could never be one whose never loved
I guard my scarred yet brave and strengthened heart
With the very thing that it longs to acquire
Accepting that I have had to be a vampire between the sheets
A red witch within my passion plays of casting love spells
An angel whose clipped wings remember the heaven of sex
A demon whose breath still reeks of deep seated fairytales
A contradiction with debatable compositions of contradictions
First impressions are my masterful declarations of deception
I deceive the world constantly with explanations of the truth
Disbelieved uniquely through my adventures into the forbidden
Un-acclaimed precisely as I should be recognized for brilliance
Celebrated unjustly for the fearlessness of mimics human stupidity
Every day I practice this craft, today I relish, a gifted-child rebellion
For if I remained who I was when I started, I most certainly be dead
I am the core of the world I was born into, still within a storm
A galaxy of universes twirling so obliviously around me
Chaos logically disrupting society so destiny can achieve it’s quest
This here and now halographically predicting recollections
(more to come…)
(Starting with definitions that I read this morning, (1/16/06), and to be blatantly honest, I was rolling on ecstasy when I read them, they definitely struck a cord, and inspired my thought processes for the Los Angeles extension of my creative process, for TwoBlueStars.com.
Being that I am not a psychologist, I must say that as far as I may go to be poetic, I may take it to a place that may be complete and total metaphor, socially and culturally speaking, and as well in a popular sense.
I make no promises that I am going to diagnose, or cast judgment in any way to offend, although as my right as a true artist, and one that speaks independently from the rest of the world, I am sure that I may do just that. If I do, I hope there are some people who will at least credit the validity of my art, my view, my experiences in life, and that is all the reason I need to poetically diagnose my art, and my work and my life.)
Emulation: The process of copying a pattern of behaviour. The term carries the connotation that the person doing the copying is attempting to achieve the same goals as he or she is emulating. Distinguish subtly from IMITATION, the implication of which that is the behaviour alone that is being mimicked without there necessarily being a particular goal beyond this.
Imitation: The process of copying the behaviour of others. The term tends to carry a sense of intentionality: the one imitating wants to , and is trying to, model his or her actions on those of another. Distinguish this connotation from that of the related term MIMICRY. Imitation also tends to be used so as to imply that the imitative actions are mechanical and performed by rote, a characterization that somehow seems somewhat misleading.
Mimicry: Although some authors use this term as a synonym of the more general term IMITATION, these days it is more commonly applied to the evolutionary process whereby one species takes on the phenotypic characteristics of another as a defensive ploy. A classic case is the Viceroy Butterfly – a juicy mouthful for many birds – whose coloration mimics closely that of the distinctly toxic Monarch Butterfly
Definitions taken from The Penguin Dictionary of PSYCHOLOGY by Arthur S Reber & Emily S. Reber
Words and forthcoming musical composition by Rio Carrera for TwoBlueStars.com/2006
