Uncle Bob's Words

Words, poetry, stuff like that

Archive for the month “April, 2018”

Dancing Around

I’m dancing around in my mind like this

Because it’s what magicians call misdirection.

I’m pretending to see the blur of my feet

Not the fear in my heart.

I’m grinning and joking around like this

Because it’s what comedians call comedy.

It’s the silly, clownish face, radiating.

Not the sad one beneath.

I’m moving slower and slower like this

Because it’s what mages call meditation.

I see my fear that shivers, hidden away

And move to embrace it.

The Choice

Ever since my Muse, that louche bastard,

Hared off to who knows where

And never returned, I feel I’ve lost a hand.

But I was never all that good at art, anyway.

In my early 20s, I had to choose:

Pictures or words.

I chose art.

Fall back.  Regroup.

Moving on.

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