Fantasy Free


When I fantasise, I rise high above the critical stares in people's eyes
The shrill voices opine ill will but hate's not mine
it's theirs.

Shared fears fall upon my deaf ears
I can't bear to care for small minds cos mine's not aware
It's on another plane, so far away;
I'm bare, I'm unashamed.

So state your case of hate
Bate me if you will
but that's not my fate
positivity's yours to kill
the negative man's treadmill's an easy climb up hatred's hill

I don't believe detractors' lies
Pure clear beauty defies defilers
and for a while
as I meditate, abstain from hate the latent love lifts me up
removes the weight lain upon my frame

but then again...

It's fantasy.
Realities come crashing in on me
revealing my fragility
and once more when
unto the breach, I see it's been a dream.

I am not so free.




Poetry by la tristesse
Read 586 times
Written on 2012-04-02 at 10:03

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Rob Graber
A cleverly titled and stimulating write. It is tempting to think that we can be free at least in fantasy; as a determinist, I believe we are unfree even there.
2012-04-03