Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Encore. Stigmata. Stephen Adly Guirgis.

S. Adly Guirgis

shone a light on the circus

exposing the wires

we wear

'cuz we liars

claimin' we fliers




in air.

For fans who don't really care.



for the folks in the stands

for the stans

who would stand

for the man on trapeze

but whose "love" disappears

when he's down on his knees

And Guirgis?

speak to that man with no net

bring him down from the rafters

before he forgets

that the urges -

the surges -

that keep him free falling?

Are interior

sacrosanct fears.

Remind him, sir, would you?

Through word or deed, could you?

that the eyes that look

in the mirror and see

the inferior man

staring back at me

are stigmatic.

And stigmata? Is tragic.


confirms this

in "Last Days"

when he says

Good people

end up in Hell

because they can't

forgive themselves.

When life

like the play, plays out?

The way out

is to simply walk through

the open door.

But it's the cage that we adore.

Defying depth

denying ourself

as the crowd screams

"Encore! Encore!"


Who would I be

if I trusted me

or tried to?

Who would I be

if I wasn't broken

and lied to?

Who would I be

if you

had backed me

supported my dreams

or just tried to?

Extra steps I must take

all these demons I face


from a childhood with you.


So who would I be

if you hadn't made me

stand behind

enemy lines

that you drew?

Who would I be now

if I had just backed down

- when should I back down? -

and when should I stand,


When should my actions

and passions

be loud?

Who would I be

if I trusted me?

Fear I'll never know

and it just goes to show

that everywhere I go

I'm surrounded by ghosts

of a past I can't shake

any future I make

any triumph or mistake

is a consquence

of your negligence

and failed attempts

at recompense

that dictate my circumstance

and I'm tired.

Who would I be

if I just

could trust me

but plainly

I can't and I won't.

I've been sentenced

to a lifetime

of blank verse

and half-rhyme

feelings with no lifeline

pulse remains

a crime.

And I'm crying.


You gave me this life

and this name.

and this brain

you can't tame.

Damn shame.

It's a damn shame.