Restarting my blog with a recent poem: Liminal.

As of now, I am attempting to create myself as a brand, as a writer. I do know that marketing is crucial in this business, so I will attempt to jump start my old blog and maybe both maintain my old followers and attract some new ones. In the past this has been my home ground. Recently, ?I have started to branch out into new forms, creating a kind of tree or network to get the word out. My most recent poem is a good way in to this I think. It is called Liminal. But first I would love to define "liminal" for those who are not that familiar with the word:

liminal

1. of or relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.
2. occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

It is one of my most cherished words after all.

Liminal

There is a way in. If on course, a way out.

The film stops at a frame but gets itself stuck inside.  We perform our roles endlessly, to enable our chosen ceremony. Eyes blackened and opaque, we see not the end. Why would we? The show goes on and we take our places. We march held in place to the drumbeat given. Never understanding or acknowledging that, yes, we are allowed to stop. All the while in expectation of exiting stage left.

But the playwright didn’t write that in there, now did he?

So we dance.

And the revelers look on.

In with the new we say. We feed our rebellious instincts.  Out with the old, feeling out lives into a large filter. We pick and discard. Pick and discard. The contents: what must go, stay, or be released

To the wind.

Top down economics. A surprise in store. But we gush outward and flow like a broken valve. Letting time and our expectations out to sea for a little while

Falling only to rise again in a rushing torrent. Our humanity heals

Disorientation and vertigo. We falter and fall.  On our feet once again and different. We coast in a field of uncertainty. Unfiltered field of vision. Vast white across. Bright ecstasy erases the black. It disperses into sea foam and dreams. Rushing and erasing, moving down.

It changes and we change in accordance with it.

Polished, clear, malleable. Like water.

Our agency found. Like the surf

We stop fighting. 

And flow. Just to balance

Our own

two feet.