the prismatic Self

gauntlet of mirrors transparency personified transparency personified when the curtain falls in an arena of quick sand and impromptu judgement the stage was well set though actually it presented itself as rather empty epic theatre art form at its vacant best I placed himself at the very manifest epicentre of concealed and subconscious intentions would I shed the gauntlet despite sharp sordid shards sharing poetry soul-stripping and nakedly honest Freud would think of an electrifying Egopuss complex Jung’s shadow play might reveal phallic saints on display until of course Nietzsche found God in Mary Magdalene a marriage apocalyptically consummated in Dante’s inferno with four horsemen in G-strings frottageing lust and desire no contest is real unless the audience may be allowed to pervert justice or shed more than hypocritical applause constructive critique does not forbid foul language nor rage at times I felt deprived when my poetry in the soup’s cauldron merely attracted kind comments or however heartfelt approval when I put myself into the lioness’ den I expect to be ravaged ravaged displaced exposed devoured and put to the stake a wizard needs fire because talent and flair have to be moulded publishing poetry is an interaction between consenting partners otherwise it risks to become pantomime or unilateral megalomania mirror mirror on the wall am I not the best screwball of them all where is the podium what is my prize accolade and quilled line squall a masked persona falls short of the truth and I am the court jester expect my bells and whistles to jingle as tools for the eloquent fool tomtoolery when Machiavelli meets de Beauvoir in the boudoir oh crystal ball kaleidoscope gemstone alchemy of soul and mind nights in white satin and shining armour pain pleasure and words words that cannot express my conflict when the prism is smudged footnotes: Egopuss complex refers to Oedipus’ gender neutrality, although it could be viewed as a misspelling for the purulent excretions of Self on autopilot tomtoolery are male tools of trade and craft, but could I not be the feminine version