Lines

Give me a map
and I will trace the lines
of where I have been

A timeline
will communicate
my raison d’être

Report cards
demonstrate the depth
of my conformity

Lines on my face
a testament
to personal efforts

Good girls colour in the lines
and I am no different
waxing orange and green

Wishing to create contours
differentiate self
from the compliance

Essence is fluid
and lines flimsy
and substance seeks
exposure and celebration

And try as I might
the orange of my soul
bleeds into blank spaces

and green of my nature
reaches across divisions
and I shall not succumb

to prescribed limits
and I invite you to do the same
colour with me outside the lines.

(Art my own)

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VJ

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

46 thoughts on “Lines”

  4. This a stunning post, VJ. The painting is intertwined with the poem as much as the lines integrate with each other. I know this concept was not the gist of the poem, but I loved how you made me look at report cards in a new way. 🙂

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    1. Thank you. The report cards wrote themselves in, and I had to think it in a new way. I’m glad you had the same experience.

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  7. The pressure of society is huge (to conform), and society doesn’t exactly value artists at the same level as some others. But I have, and I do, and I will continue to (join you), VJ. And I love your poem. 🙂 “Normality is a paved road: It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.” ~ Vincent van Gogh

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  15. I love everything about this poem and artwork, VJ! We all need to recognize how we were forced to conform, then break those barriers and spread our colors everywhere we want them to go.

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  18. Wow, VJ. This, especially:
    …”differentiate self
    from the compliance”
    It felt like a statement-making thought about why you create and express yourself – so beautifully in words and artwork.
    Thank you! 💕

    Liked by 1 person

  19. I’ve always strived to colour outside the lines, and most definitely part of me succeeded at different points in time…but, the childhood conscience is always present … “good girls colour in the lines”. Your poem had me rereading several times and reflecting.

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