~ Declaration For Independence ~
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Poetry readers as of 3/18/2021
There is one thing about an actor's or actress's debut from one stage to the next; that it must be renewed... rekindled each time the milieu of the stage changes. If one stage doesn't offer a means to breathe new life into one's personalized assessment of one's favored orientation, then another stage, whatever that may be, must fit with the changing tides of time, age, interests, and so forth. All the world's a stage" is a phrase which fits this moment's prologue in describing the aura in which the poem's content's should be read. The poem's content does not diminish the sincerity nor veracity of Ms. Markle's intention, but the perception a particular audience comes away with plays a sustained character role; if in no other way than by setting up props, lights, and word-of-mouth perpetuation that can linger like a gentle subtleness like incense, or a candle's was that is inadvertently being burnt at both ends in an attempt to heighten one's vision to peer into the shadows of a desired future— but whose twists and turns may not be so accommodating. The following is another poem of late that has crept its way into consciousness like a woodpecker pecking at my skull, against which I had no choice but to address its presence or be subjected to the condition of a proverbial faucet drip without cessation. Poetry can be a welcomed short respite from another task or it can be like Poe's Raven sitting atop one's chamber door... after knocking three times over and over and over again to be let in. The following poem is one of those 3-part tap- tap- tap-pings I had to get up and open the door to. And what a non-speaking chatter box it was... (just like Poe's experience with the Raven which created the mood for an extended monologue).
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And what shall we think of Ms. Markle a dreamy-eye girl marrying a prince astonished to find her believed-in sparkle, did not beacon adoration from a courtly audience. Who am I? Where am I? Perhaps not but a page surely at this height of a marble staircase— I would stand out on center stage; yet this mirror, mirror shows another face. I shall run! Yes! Very far away I will find those and that to believe in me where I will command the world's attention my speech in the lines, come what may there and then my name in lights to see, on everyone's lips all will mention I know the script, I know the part the poise, the mood, the proper attire to each and all I'll express my heart, once again my profession to aspire. At home again, for all to look thinking that for me they'll care, and I will make a fortune at a book. Mirror, Mirror now tell me true am I not the Belle of the Ball the world about me paying its due, I shall echo through history's hall! Once again in the lime-light full the center stage is mine once again, I am not just another courtly mule, but a damsel rescued from a made-up dragon! A mule you say? An unkindly word? stallions and mares with parade attire oh but let me tell you what you haven't heard, whispered now for the world's drooling desire. Let them eat cake with icing too ala mode, a Journalist's scoop will do. I am back, the stage is mine What a star! What a shine! I know the tricks, what cards to play emotions can stack a deck quite nicely it matters not what the nayers say, even when silenced I won't go quietly. I've more to say, there's more to come another act, a scene with rehearsed material so much to do, so much yet undone, Ah yes! We'll make it a serial. Wednesday, 3-17-21, 7:53 PM |
Note: The absence of "threes" so characteristic of this Journal's focus should describe the presence of multiple dichotomies being expressed in the context. It is a point for philosophical discussion among those who venture into this area of consideration with respect to cognitive assemblies of orientation.
Date of page origination: March 18th, 2021... 7:17 AM
Date of Initial Posting: March 18th, 2021... 8:36 AM
Updated Posting: Transfer from Threesology.org due to sponsorship request: 4th April 2020... 10:45 AM