On the surface, everything’s perfect, The clothes, the smile, the face. Washed, scrubbed, ironed, Not a hair out of place. Straight-acting (that’s how I grew up), Mild-mannered, deferential, and polite. Jeans and turtleneck usually, A jacket, maybe, to ward off winter’s spite. They tell me my conversation sparkles with wit, My laughter glimmers with sunshine. My eyes glitter with mischief and fun, That I radiate with a joy and confidence all mine. A crystal man, that’s what I am, aren’t I? Refractive and reflective, half-false, half-true. Blink and I will change colour so fast, That you’ll miss that hint of brooding blue. But just as the heart of a diamond, Can be alight with iridescent fire. So can the heart of a crystal man, Be ablaze with moods and emotions – a quagmire. As fragile as it is perfect, With a clockwork mystery concealed within. The crystal heart ticks away, While emotions surge and churn therein. Am I a curio beset by curiosity? Driven mad wondering what love is like? My crystal self threatening to shatter into shards? My crystal heart cracking apart as if the victim of a strike? But no, I keep myself intact and whole, Remind myself that maybe the day I find love is not yet nigh. And the crystal man squares his weary shoulders yet again, And walks on with his head held fiercely high.
& then the crystal man moved and read his poetry at coffee houses and gay bars where he was more than a curio & then one day the crystal man touched another crystal heart where his story resonated and sparked with iridescent fire
Your crystal heart will catch Sunlight in a million gradations Will beam them sparkling back To those who see and understand
WOW! :-D @SiennaFire and Harif - you just made the poem double-special (@SiennaFire - thanks for the suggestion!)
