Crash!

Crash Image

 

 

ONE MINUTE YOU’RE THERE
AND THE NEXT
YOU’RE NOT
FROZEN OUT
THROWN ABOUT
IN A WILD TANGLE
OF CURSIVES
AND CURSE WORDS
THE SCREEN HAS
GONE BLANK, AND
THAT TERRIBLE SOUND
THAT ALMOST SIGH,
THE TRAGIC GOODBYE
OF ALL YOUR WORDS,
THE DOCS
THE POEMS
THE BOOKS
UNHEARD OF,
NOT REALLY BUT TRUE
(NEVER BELIEVE IT
WILL HAPPEN TO YOU)
UNTIL THE FINAL GROAN,
AND THAT’S WHAT IT IS,
A GRINDING HALT
THAT MAKES YOU SCREAM
“IT’S NOT MY FAULT”
TO THE FRIENDLY GENIUS
WHO COMES TO CALL
AND CARRIES AWAY THE
REMAINS,
HE CLAIMS IT
WILL ALL
BE FINE,
YOU’RE BACKED UP
YOU’RE COVERED
SCARED SHITLESS
YOU HOVER
AND PACE,
THE NINETEEN NEW
CHAPTERS, WRITTEN
WITH LOVE,
THE HUNDREDS OF
OF PAGES
AND SLOVENLY
RAGES,
THE CHARACTERS
NEW AND OLD,
SEXY, SILLY
STRONG AND BOLD,
AND WHAT ABOUT
THE TV GUESTS
ALL THE WORDS
AT YOUR BEHEST,
THEIR ANSWERS STORED
IN THIS DEAD MACHINE
THE TECH GRAVEYARD
OF BROKEN DREAMS,
YOU WAIT, YOU SWEAT
YOU CRY, YOU BET
THAT EVERYONE IS WRONG
IT WILL BE
THE WORST SAD SONG,
WHEN FINALLY THE LIGHT
SHINES FLASHING AND BRIGHT,
THERE WILL BE A WAY
TO SAVE THE DAY,
IT’S NOT THE END OF
THE WORLD,
I CRAWL FROM MY CRISIS
AND SLOWLY UNCURL
A BRAIN THAT HAS SEEMINGLY
DEVELOPED A YEN
FOR THAT CRAZY MACHINE
INSTEAD OF A PEN,
SO IF I HAVE TO
I’LL START AGAIN,
OH, MY GOD,
PLEASE TELL ME,
WHEN?©J.W. WINSLOW 8/1/14

FAB FUCHSIA 006

Not sure when my slant on life began to slide toward the feminine. It has always been my way to support the women in my life, and come to think of it, they have guided my stars from the beginning. It was my glamorous Aunt who taught me how to dream a look, and take a chance. It was my mother who taught me to be stubbornly courageous,  and my grandmother who loved me back from all my tears, long ago. I believe it was my Paternal Grandmother who influenced me most, in a peculiar way, since I never met her. She was a rebellious strong woman who created a job for her family when there was none, who wrote columns for a famous newspaper and influenced those who knew her in an amazing fashion. She came from a sultry southern family, steeped in arts and libel, full of strong women and spicy dish. 

 

Now that I find the path to seek and enjoy the work of artists and other creative sources,  I am drawn to the bravado of those who take no prisoners. Sometimes I am shocked at what I see, and mostly in awe, because there is a separation between the leaders and the followers. For women, in particular, it takes someone who has nothing to lose to create that drive to rise above the crowd. When you see it, you know immediately that you are in for something special!

Click here to read the poem.

 

The performance described in my WEBSONGS poem called ART MODEL was one of those shining times when I recognized a different kind of courage. It was unexpected, and breathtaking. I know I can do a lot of things if I put my mind to it, but she exposed herself visually as well as literally as to lay naked at your feet. That I don’t think I could ever do.

 

Maybe I am doing it now, by my unabashed homage. So go girl, every one of you out there, and give us a thrill. We deserve it.

 

xx:jw