The pendulum swings its wide arch, cutting through the air with threatening strokes.
Its sharp blade is ever present and always moving closer in arks of fear.
The pit lies below in dark, endless depths of nothingness.
Its cry is one of forever and silence.

I am in between, and I must choose between the sharp abrasions of the ever threatening pendulum, or the hollow death of the pit.

Each moment the pendulum sweeps closer, and I dodge it, but not before I have felt the hair shaved from my arms or the air stir from its movement.

And I am relieved and safe for a while until another choice must be made, and the pendulum moves another notch closer.

The pit is always waiting.  I have poked my head inside, but have never wholly ventured into its permanence.  The pit is always the last escape and awaits if the pendulum cuts too deep.

Each time I must decide.  “Will it be the pit or will it be the pendulum?”

Oh me, oh my.
Why do I try,
Its like sticking a camel through the miniture eye
of a needle, I see thru every facade.
The things I love have been deemed me odd.

Oust the judgment
which effects the mental
of the masses, whose glasses started half full.
Now they're half empty,
No problem solved simply
by lying and cheating and all of that bull.

Influenced to forgive and forget,
my mind, in time, forgot.
Now I realize who im not.
Not phoney or fake,
I'll make a mistake
This here is me and all that I got.

I can feel my tears
Rolling down my cheeks
I can feel my hands
Trembling like the drums
I can feel my heart
Beating as it fall apart
I can feel my head
Aching as you fade
Not away from me
But away from all the memories we shared

My artist friend
Grisham John
(you'll hear more of him
and see his works soon enough)
has been working on nudes
(I mean artistically,  of course);
and with his co-operative models
he's produced a series of fine nudes
(please, keep a literal mind as you read me)

just the other day
Grisham John decided to have a break
so he told the day's model to dress
and would she make some tea and just talk
he needed to just relax
and they sat in the studio just chatting
but suddenly he heard his wife return
from the shops
and he speed-muttered to his model:
"Quick! Undress before my wife sees us!"

*You know,  artists do see things differently