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An Artist Dilemma

Inquisitively enough I seem
though my sleep is uneasy
days pass by in customary fashion
yet my thoughts makes me queasy.

I am an artist in my hyped mind
a performer of the purest kind;
a writer without rhymes and sonnets
devoid of meters and couplets.

I am a painter with no paintings
lacking colours, pictures and oeuvres;
I’m also a dancer deprived of pace
exclusive of steps, rhythm and grace.

I am a lover who has no cravings
with no passion, thirst or yearnings;
an actor I was without scripts and props
I have no style, no actions and plenty flops.

I ridicule the finished works I do
the clichéd  outcomes of my coarse thrill;
my life, my mind and my break through
all of which casual to my mediocre skill.

The complete this my work of art
which will crown the inventive heart;
it will enslave my life with awkwardness
show cynics the power of self-consciousness.

Now I am in my final realisation
I will shudder with expectation;
I shall walk in hands with obscurity
where death is my only security.

My works I hate intensely cause of the past
though I am badly bound to it I feel an outcast;
is this the metaphor of my existence?
Always ready to crush any guilty resistance .



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  1. Date: 7/22/2014 10:14:00 AM

    I think that the dilemma isn't about your writes; those already stand in good light. It's more about aligning the present with the past that you see as a challenge. You appear to go back to your birth in order to arrive to the present reverting to the full name you were given then! // paul
  1. Date: 7/22/2014 9:56:00 AM

    You underestimate your talent and impact my friend. I was mesmorized by this piece and recognized my own self doubt within the lines.
  1. Date: 7/22/2014 9:02:00 AM

    Ur writes r very deep n unique Freddie and so is this one too,, loved this one,, why a change of name all of sudden my friend?