The pink of the checkered stairs goes with the descent of a slide in blue. The outcasts of clowns and boogeymen sing with the chorus.
Ascent to the hyper realization where all is beyond reach, the hand amiss, the imaginable can be imagined and all can be realized.
You are superman without the cape, the genius without the pen, the strongman without the muscle. The bird takes flight at any time and to whichever distance sails. Energy is in abundance up these checkered pink stairs.
You mingle with the clumsiest of clowns and adorn the clash of many colors.
Funny, it is all very funny. Laughter knows no bounds, endless. The boogeyman jokes in the parade, psychotic giddiness brightens the air. Nothing bad can touch us here.
Something stings, claws at the back, breaks the fun. It attempts at breaking me from the world of popcorn and bubble gum pop references.
It grabs, the shadow dark and unfriendly. It pulls me toward the slide I longed in avoidance. The blue like black of the slide. The abyss grabs for me. Far from the top now, the colors obsolete, beauty vanishes into nothing.
Forever the cycle repeats. The agony, the slow death. How many more passes can be had to appreciate them to not? To love than not? To live for life.
I don’t want to walk the stairs, ride the slide and commiserate with false friends. Friends in time, a lake, a fire, my thoughts on paper, clear nights and infinite words.
Artwork: Stephen Gammell