five years-sidelines part II

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


for later………

About lindalou5150

as exercise or exorcism, i write...for the eyes of others, for my eyes and heart only, for the love and the rage, i release the gamut of tell the truth and say what's often thought but not written...
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