My face like a canvas
And I am the artist
I grab my paintbrush
Dipping it in the paint on my pallet
I bring the bristles up to my lips
And I begin my masterpiece
Painting on a beautiful smile
For all to see
But no matter how realistic my art looks
The smile will always be a painting

All are made of porcelain-
Or on the surface, at least.
Like masks of glass,
Where beliefs pass,
Leave hidden truths bequeathed.

All are made of porcelain,
Their fragile faces strong.
The truth, it hurts;
They lie the worst,
Yet nil be there all-ong.

awareness or
the lack thereof
there is a self,
regardless of
the stupid things
you wish to be
and all those masks you hide behind

a sens of self
is all there is
it’s not a gift
that you receive
it’s that,
the only thing there
is

that’s all you got
that’s all you are
enjoy and swim in it
till dawn

it’s more than life,
it’s cheating death
it simply is,

the sense of self.

MASK VS MASK
TO WEAR
TO COVER UP
TO KEEP SAFE
TO NOT GET SICK
DIFFENENTCOLOURS
DIFFENENT SIZES
TO PROCET
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE TRUE SELF
PEOLE WEAR TO HIDE A SMILE
PEOPLE WEAR TO HIDE WORDS
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HDE EMOTIONS
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE SCARS
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE PAIN
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE THEIR FACE
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO  HIDE MASK VS MASK
TO WEAR
TO COVER UP
TO KEEP SAFE
TO NOT GET SICK
DIFFENENTCOLOURS
DIFFENENT SIZES
TO PROCET
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE TRUE SELF
PEOLE WEAR TO HIDE A SMILE
PEOPLE WEAR TO HIDE WORDS
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HDE EMOTIONS
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE SCARS
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE PAIN
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE THEIR FACE
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO  HIDE CRYNG
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE THIER HAPPINESS
MASK VS MASK
MANY DIFFERENT WAYS TO WEAR THE MASK
PEOPLE WEAR MASK TO HIDE THEIR HAPPINESS
MASK VS MASK
MANY DIFFERENT WAYS TO WEAR THE MASK

Earthly possessions, earthly possessions;
At most they’re all of my greatest confessions

As the mask I so love to wear over my face
Is a mask made out of chameleon skins-
It grants me a shrewd changing appearance,
Camouflaging myself, to fit in with the crowd.

I smile in the mirror
Trying not to cry.
I cannot comprehend
How my red eyes
And white teeth
Can coexist like this.
If only I could will
Myself to be happy.
I have to be happy
For the others.

So I grin
Because I read
Somewhere
That it could make
Me happy.

all my past
      imposes on my breath today

i enter a grand mosaic public building
        and on goes my medical face mask
i join the back of the queue with my documents in one hand
            and my numbered butcher ticket
                          in the other
i admire the mosaics
               a jarring tide of art against the bureaucratic purpose
                     of these rooms
gauzed in with own product exhaust
       all my past  is attending    
exhumed
  patted  into my breath
    baiting remembrance with unsubtle notes
for example :
   integrated spittings of 'drum' tobacco (i quit a decade ago)
horning catches of cologne every boy used as a teen
seasonal scents  unweaned from deep in my system
(some reigned in from the different countries
                                                    i lived in or visited)
then i am frisked back to infancy   with breast milk and rusks
it's all there    a basking flippancy
all there in musk about my face
  one fragrance after another

it's an honest relief
     to host an alternative to my 'old man' breath
           but odd and concerning
something of the brain ?

“I laugh when I’m sad,”
I said.

And then
I giggled
Softly.