The Other - The Poetry Shelter

" Give me new Phoenix wings to fly at my Desire " John Keats
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The Other

Guest Poems > Teresa Ann Frazee
The Other

In my room, I am alive
Elsewhere, I simply exist
Hell - bent on artistic perfection
There my haunted hands persist

In this creative trance
Where the norm disappears
The Other morphs the heart
Until a single soul premiers

Past curfews of conventional hours
I venture into God’s dreams
While critiquing demons perch
On steel studded eye beams

Imagination is sanity’s scapegoat
Let there be no confusion
Inside my shared solitude
Reality bows to illusion

There are no forbidden fruits
My conscious is totally clear
My duty is to purity
Mediocrity’s lazy eye beware

Our manhandled morality
Is a crosshatching of lies
Their origins are pedestrian
Echo the Muses’ cries

No patience for hunger
Thirst is of no concern
Weariness is not relevant
The laws of passion govern

Prussian blue soars
To an operatic height
Bound by luminous strokes
Of thick Titanium white

Southern light spills onto
Canvas of reinvented space
Stirs the stillborn masters
From their artless resting place

Like a flaming baptism
I’m cleansed to the bone
Freed from the matter
Of this body on loan

Sentimentality lay fallen
Fear hides at the door
Irretrievably lost from the tribe
They’re of use no more

A lightning pulse answers
The how, the when, the where
I share a castless shadow
When no one else is there

I can smell the Other
As a beast can smell its kind
Instinctively we vow
To leave no idea behind

Teresa Ann Frazee © 2015
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