One of my most favourite musicians and pieces of music…

The Gait of Defiance

This taste,

this fire

this moment of ire

as I stamp out the weeds of the day,

in praise of something bigger than I can suggest,

digest and reclaim as mine.

Navigation through the tide of faces,

that greet me in salvation,

this mortal mask that I call my own,

entrenched in life,

love,

mud,

and the thick of all that I see before me.

My within, is not without,

for without this I am in doubt,

About which I know nothing.

My words in their visual ensemble,

tingle down my spine, decline

the tenacious tapping of fingers

longing to touch what doesn’t belong.

I am to no one something to be had,

to be trophied for others to admire.

You are my gun metal prison, the

timpanous colours or remembered steel,

Jerking, working though junk-flavoured

reverie. You, You

Who call me friend, who ‘like’ me

For who I am, before you dare

to dream of who I am.

I am for no-one, to no-one an

objectified desire; my ire tamed

By love herself, by the gentle hand that knows my flesh

my soul

my Self.

8 thoughts on “The Gait of Defiance

  1. I was going to write about the flow, the internal rhymes, the secret, angry meter left in breathless whispers, but even after the second reading, all I’m left with, once again, is “damn woman, you can write.”

    Like

    1. I just got a total deja-by moment then. I could swear blind I’ve read this exact same comment from you before in response to a post, and my reaction was exactly how I remember too! Weird!

      Like

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