Hardened Before Tenderized Again

I said earlier in the week that I wasn't feeling well, but everything else in my life was shaping up nicely. It was true, my new business, (mod)think, had a great week. So, last night, I was on a mission for a margarita. About the same moment that I declared my mission, an insightful friend reached out and joined me. She'd recognized my lack of craft the past few weeks and took it upon herself to inquire--lawd bless her. 'Twas good to purge some words with her, but the margaritas made me hungry, so I sated my hunger with a box of Cheez-It and some writing...

Here lies truth without costume—

Naked attraction of discovery—

Whether we attract or repel,

Poles must discover their degree of polarity.

It is life as it should be lived:

In the bare, fearless, raw, fuckitall, pedal-to-the-metal rush

To exclaim,

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“I AM WHO I AM,

AND I SEEK ANSWERS!”

Give them to me,

Or I will ask them from you.

I will ask them of you,

Unless you give them to me.

Before the stage is lit,

And the curtain raised,

Heart demanding feet to jitter,

Eyes to wander,

Marathon of floating…

In a claustrophobic bubble.

Before we know,

Whether the hero is good or bad,

She sinks her feet into ground,

And shouts with vigor,

"Though you may strike me down,

I lived in pursuit of passion

Against the reserved advice of others,

Because life on the merry-go-round

Is no life at all,"

It is a temporary state,

A rush up to courage,

The trajectory needed to make the leap

Not knowing whether,

You will land on the other side,

Or fall short.

Exhale. Answer.

Too easy to accept the extremes,

Less easy to forge a course through life

Against the advice of others

When conventional wisdom has expired.

Shape the new course,

To be rewarded through perseverance—

In history,

So true.

Now, 

Hardened before tenderized again.

Dance of the Dramatically Redundant

Image by dark_mephi via FlickrAnswer, and answer now.
Do we still agree—
No redundancy.

All this, in defense?
Framing my reason.
I don’t have all season.

You asked, let me answer.
I don’t care anymore.
So you shut the door?

Knock, but no longer a reply.
Hands raised, a beckon to the sky.
You took the time to ask,
With no desire to bask,
While I considered my response.
Sit still and LISTEN, for once.
Inside, my heart’s condition,
Has more fear than friction.
Always have to learn anew,
That I do care about you.
And after this dramatic dance,
Eternally another chance.
I know when the symphony ends,
We’ll go back to being friends.
And play again another song,
The remixed, extended version long.
‘Til then I’ll quietly bide my time.
To compose another metered rhyme.