We Act Out Charades Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Where collective conscious would connivingly construct wishy-washy idealized autoportrait,
Existence haphazardly handles engineered hesitant half-truth evidence, recycled through mystical mirror-mirage prism rainbow thought-trait.
Animus animates an artful and almost arrogant magical oasis-image of independence,
Controlling reality reel, caverlierly reviving reasons challenging chaos chance-dance.
Terror aims at transcending an alien time-space an arid desert where authentic reflection is is always perceived as vanity.
Often doubted, demeaned, overtly dismissed, denigrated or, at best, overlooked, sense seems lacking.
Understanding ever empty, useless endeavour, effort unjustified appears. Vain, we all complain, yet lend our backing
To simulation, subjective temporary shiftless shadow-charades. Thereby, through balancing fear, greed, pain,
we act out charades, somehow retaining some slim grasp upon our sense of sanity.

(5 September 1991 revised 6 August 2006)