Art, Culture, expression, free write, Identity, Performance, poetry, social critique, Streams of consciousness
Dwelling within an eternal space that amasses such memories
Memories that solicit inner emotions that require
1 to harness
much from within
1 to grapple with those things that are often held true
It is essential for what we hold inside
that we yield
our willingness to acquiesce to others’ understandings and accepted values
That we challenge our own conventions
An internal status quo
We are mere subjects in others’ scripts of our realities
How does that even happen?
How did we become pawns in our own game of checkers?
As insane as that may sound
we tend to allow our realities to be
improperly depicted by others
at ever turn or opportunity
As linear as we wish our lives to be
We are not that simplistic
We are as complex as we allow ourselves to discover
Yet, most of us are hindered
Hindered by our fears of what we may discover
Or what others have reconfigured our figured worlds to be
How did we enter into this darkness
the storm that presents itself?
For us to embark upon
Where is our beacon?
Where is our North Star?
Where is our means to an end?
Amid the darkness
we are challenged to find our light
Not from the presence of others
but from that which we find within
The storm is not over as many evangelically love to espouse
It has only just begun
For we are called to put ourselves on trail
Unlike the likes of Ferguson…