When he speaks, I do not understand
He carves his metaphors from the paper,
He carves his audience, the world.
Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!
Keeping time with his music machine,
An art and DJ set.
A quick pose before he pulls the paper,
We are all outlines, incomplete.
He slows the beat, and pushes on
Dotting us into silhouettes,
Forming us with calligraphy.
He dances, we watch in awe
As he brings his message to life
Hypnotised by the movement of his ruby shoes.
Red, Yellow, Blue, he adds
Weaving all our colours together.
A face appears, his hands remain steady
Under primal rhythms.
At last, he presents his work with pride,
Exhausted from his performance
I am transfixed, inspired.
Unity.
Peace.
Love.
When he speaks, I do not understand
But his message is clear.
love.truth.chaos 