"Rabid"

I don't really know. lawl. Just came to me this am.

    Faint recognition;
     ambiance for hire,
    this job is precarious,
     but can she steal the show?
    Holding the position;
     mistress of high wire,
    toes point nefarious,
     to the sweating mob below.
    
    Concentration mesmerizing;
     every eye transfixed,
    tickets funded by the dream
     on the back of the artiste'.
    And beautiful is sighing,
     "Let 'em have their kicks-"
    she picks up the balance beam,
      silencing the beast.

    This is holy treason;
     lost in  deep translation,
    corseted travesty,
     compelled by safety net.
    Furtively she blows a kiss;
     to conquer hesitation,
     winks, knowing gravity
     hasn't eaten yet.
     
     
       
  

Reviews

[K.C. Zbryk]

I liked the image of a woman on a highwire, and how she has to satisfy the crowd. Simply brilliant imagry and spellbinding writing. Held me captive through the poem and made me wish there was more. But really this was perfect.

[Raven Starhawk]

This poem is within itself a holy union of brilliance and creativity. I love the way your stanzas flow.