same reason some
picked up their charcoal
to paint on cave walls
then others
wailed inside their
exploding hearts at onsight
renderings of Mozart
these half moons in half time
the old rhythms
and cheap rhymes
play with our utmost expressions
and for some
the only potential
to release the drive
to madness
and pure love

in the universe
    or universes
    or beyond, perhaps
is enough unknown
    worthy of learning
if just to appreciate
if just to understand
the magnitude
of my ineptitude
to make me unable
to give any time
to know-it-alls

When eyes can't look to you to answer
The subpar common english greeting
    "How's it going"
And the only uttered response is
    "Peachy Keen"
With that wavering inflection
    the "eeeeen" continuing
        an unnatural length of time
What they are really saying
Is that they are fighting a terrific battle
A struggle-filled battle
Caused by
    their own neglect to admit failure
    not wanting to acknowledge
        a life turning out...not how their eight year...or seventeen year old optimism expected
And the untold spaces between their quick high octane
    awe-inspiring
        and beauty-filled social media posts
Live longer bouts of dejected dis-coloration

And none of it is real
And the collapse of this dis-ingenuity may have been fueled
By terrific loss
But it's impending collapse
    (if they survive)
May just awaken the truth-soul itself
To finally come out and say "hello"

develop taste for the cheap stuff
the simple stuff
put your mind at ease

pass over not, enjoy it all
and go where thy please

a gentle, timid, quiet soul
held back in unknown chains
many years a dormant stirring
boiled-over passion remains

then a swift break - glass ceilings down!
observing ancient law
society errs in naming most
she conjured her wild claws

we are all from women
women try to become as good of women
as where they're from
or much much improved
men are from women too
but don't understand their origins
remotely
and try to connect with another woman
who is usually
some sort of version
of their origin

We must face our fears
To begin to create
Art matters
It directs our fate

Conversation that guides
Steps that lead
Hearts are moved
Life to bleed