Self Not Me

As you behold the seated mannequin  
that temptress comes with a pose reclined
reclined with her long legs, stretched out so thin
hairless, smooth waiting for the hand to find
 
Sitting on the steps that lead to nowhere  
foul dank walls, that signify her occupation
a brief liaison, expecting no great love affair
credit card or bank note, enhancing each sensation
 
Comprehension, now you see how far the fall  
with soulless eyes, reflections of life's shitty void
body, the inhabitant no better than Neandertal
just falsehood, a noir film made of celluloid
 
Just a casing painted, dressed for a pleasures fee
 that playground, a sham, empty of all entity
 
 

Blocking the path leading to divinity
Lies a woman barring passage
To passersby, this one included
Seemingly flirtatious
Undeniable in appeal
This journey fraught with distraction
As experience has shown
Time and time again
Same story, same journey
Enlightenment barred
By worldly desires
This mortal coil
Ever climbing
Clawing up this barriered path
Leading into eternity
Unforgiving corners at every step
Deciding to find a way past
This stiletto distraction
And continue to ascend
Until this journey’s end
Be revealed
Mirror held snugly in a pocket
Ready to tell the truth
Combatting illusions
Confusing this mind
A secret weapon learned
By sages long since passed
And this new perspective
Shows that this distraction
Never existed to begin with
Allowing ascension to continue
Unabated
Undisturbed
As this mortal coil becomes
For the first time
At Peace with himself

In a place away from the crowd,
is this self imposed exile?
Or simply the hermit's choice
of peace and introspection,
before the necessity of moving onwards and upwards.

Here perhaps is not much at first glance
and yet,
this is not the bottom;
how fortunate to be in such a position
where one can rest awhile.

Whether to descend or ascend
to reach full potential,
no one else bars the chosen direction,
it is simply a matter of finding the will
to perhaps continue on.

Yet here is a space
comfortable enough for daydreaming the days away,
where heels can gather dust
while contorting limbs as desired
with no onlookers or voyeurs to judge.

Maybe here is too solitary, too quiet, too alone;
a life with blank walls in monochrome,
but it is the type that inspires curiosity at the mystery;
exuding an air
of being all dressed up with no place to go.

The cares and worries are mostly unsaid,
better expressed in a glance
understood and shared by only a select few,
while most others focus on the flesh
and not what lies hidden within those bones.

This is indeed a strange place,
the type that many would pass by
only brief visitors for the solitaire
who currently sits at this level
still yet to be motivated to change placement.

Plenty said in description of the location,
yet the incumbent remains an enigma
as dark strands hold intrigues
that lips can unseal if prompted
but all remains silent and still for a while yet.

 
destiny  
she was smiling  
 
that's what the  
belief  
was  
 
before  
the steps  
...  
the miss(/ed)teps  
the straight path  
turns out  
not so  
 
it is said  
appearances  
can  
be misleading  
then  
one should look  
no further  
than the picture  
at beginning  
of life  
 
destiny  
her smile...