“Beauty and Grace” Written and Read by Deane Reaves and Performed by Emma Browning

“Beauty and Grace”

Everyone says it’s not a big deal

You are the most beloved, highly praised for being pretty

They say you should be happy, yet I feel iffy

It is a big deal because I am not real

They all say “You are a great big deal,

You are beauty, you are grace.” Is that how I am supposed to feel?

I don’t.

In fact, I don’t think I can feel.

Nothing in my life is really real.

The beauty, the grace and the fame,

I’m in a constant fuzz,

It’s all a part of their game.

The partying, the drinks and the drugs.

It really is lame, this little game.

Tired? Anxious? Ill? Here, take a magic drug.

Yet the drugs make me dizzy, sick and out of control.

I don’t want drugs; I just need a hug.

“washcloth” by Heather Chamberlain

With a wet washcloth you wash your face.

Then the pure white cloth is forever stained,

and you foolishly believe your face is clean.


In the mirror you primp, and you preen,

but just because salt revives the skin

doesn’t make it blemish free.


Every night when you remove the base,

you stare hard and cold at the path you’ve traced;

squeezing the washcloth, in your hand restrained.


And every morning you conceal your sin.

And it works,

‘cause it does hide the darkness within.


And every night,

once again,

with a wet washcloth you wash your face.


Photograph made available by Brian Patrick Tagalong via Unsplash.

“Progression” Written and Read by Kobe Krehbiel, Performed by Morgan Smith


Fast cars blazing by
Warm breeze intoxication
Something still missing
Running from the truth
Everything seems foreign here
Fake smiles today
Searching for answers
Aimlessly walking around
I’ll figure it out
Always lost in thought
Finding answers in wrong spots
Not all is lost though
There is a constant
Nature is my own escape
Beauty never stops
An escape that exists
Never have to look too far
True radiance shines
Never a worry
Everything works out just fine
Hope is now restored

This dance and poem were a collaboration for the 2019 event “Changement: Self in Motion”.

“A Rosebud That Blooms Begins to Die” by Heather Chamberlain

A rosebud that blooms begins to die,

But there’s still hope in the petals restrained.


There’s intensity—a swelling energy.

There’s friction, but it rubs deliciously.

The bud is aching to unfold—

It’s story to be told—

Exposed for all the world to behold.


It desires to be noticed—

Time demands the next stage of life;

Nature compels the floret to open.

But if it complies,

The spirit within amplified—

On the surface, fatigues in a moment.


There’s still hope in the petals restrained,

But a rosebud that blooms begins to die.


Photo made available by Vanessa Serpas via Unsplash

“A King Amongst Men” by Jonathan Pettyjohn

Dying in the tall rain,
a monarch stands among them all.

His eyes are red,
his brain is fogged,
and in it forms this crying thrall, dying in the tall rain.

Of course,
in his brain,
This all is false to him,
Dying in the tall rain.

The world begins to set,
Of course,
in this drain.

To him is all,
peaceful one.

To him is all a golden sun.


Photograph made available by O12 via Unsplash

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