watching it from the sidelines the LA mad poet show unfolded
sailing down that generational span between child and young adult
i watched with five significant years between jailbait and legal
while the show began…
watching from the sidelines
the fifties/early sixties elders stepped back after carving smooth stone
pathways for others to cross they stepped aside front to sideways and took their places
on bejeweled thrones in backstreet alleyways on roads between coasts to the north
they eased into phase next as their permanence was cast in stone…
from the sidelines, i watched as the new boys stepped up to slam their new raw meaty art
into veins through bloodstreams steaming their hot word blood with iron fists they punched more truth into gut
they lined up to knock a different wind out of art’s belly out of two
decades into rebirth..
from the sidelines with younger eyes and a young girl’s crush
no words could form other senses sharpened like nail to palm once the child- life
and the what-should-have-been transition to phase next had been abused out
no words were left with confidence or curiousity to shape no questions to ask only a burning desire to be five years older remained and often, only the desire to be simply done with it …….
suddenly, the appeal the draw the urges appeared out of nowhere and the wait for godot’s five year ghost began give me their life! give me inclusion! give me their worlds of art and music ! give me more! more! more! of these words to suckle to see and feel give me a reason to become un-numbed…
from the sidelines voiceless with sense of self skewered
i then sat speechless robbed in the nether hours between child and adult but excited by a new world
*********************************************
the young teen’s view is different than what eyes can see five years later
five was enough of a difference then so the pastime of watching with visionary assistance
became the art of a voiceless young while fine-tuning perceptions of humans……..
from the sidelines became art form i cannot speak so i must listen pay attention absorb this art through eyeball ear under skin and search out these humans who create as teachers then lovers it was the only task and accomplishment of one silencedand deadened at so young
but what a keen observer you become!
watching from the sidelines often meant invisibility libraries became refuge searching
taking note storing up more in your head then you could ever imagine or waste
while trying to form it on your silent painful shy lips you steady and watch…
being invisible had its odd perks eyes became word word became thought heart
inner-vision sharpened ears listened for the unspoken languages of body temperment
all became familiar -to painful excitement bubbled word to surface where it died
in shadow where self-esteem had traveled in the early hours by the hand of those once-trusted
but then from the sidelines i learned too the importance of
saving words that
struggle
for later………
