Tag Archives: truth

WHAT IF?

WHAT IF?

what if
no picture
tells a
story?

what if
there is no
picture at all?

but faces are here
speaking their truth
hiding something

lining
the walls
of this
sublime gallery

and here, above all,
that enigmatic madam
with her Louvre smile

we all want the light
need the light
accordingly
     build chapels, erect
cathedrals, write
gospels of the heart

need to
      see everything, capture
everything
leave nothing
        to conspiracy
need

to know
     no one falls alone,
unlamented
from cliff
       into abyss

whose crevasse, to be blunt
has opened
        to receive you, eagerly
welcome
   into
the fold

little girl who caught the eye
out there in
     what was once Abyssinia

stalked
by a vulture

seem to need
a pinch of Solomon here

that I might
begin to understand

SOLVE

SOLVE

to comprehend the lie
you would have
to go back
to the beginning
of life
before
the fetal position

read everything scan all
those media flashes and
opp ends
from before the
dawn of time
masts and headlines

kick up
a fuss
     deconstruct
every word, not
believe anything

sift through
every fable
every conspiracy
every secret
every
hole

back to
Plato’s cave
and its
very first troll

and
   every major minor
gaslight that
masquerades as history

liberal radical
whatever what
not worth
the clay
tablet
    so-called stylus
scribe
wrote it down on

and there it is
here’s where
it starts
   chain reaction
of all
that is
unquestioned

where
it all
got stuck
became impacted

unable to solve
resolve dissolve

impossible
to redress

BODY OF EVIDENCE

BODY OF EVIDENCE

the jury is out
cannot

reach a verdict
in the streets, in their
backyards for
those with
ears to hear a
body of evidence

strewn everywhere
bodies of evidence
high as
a hillock, still
piling up

vast
as a mountain up
there in its
death
zone where
no human
might breathe

the jury is out
out on a limb
severed limb
of humanity

there
is no justice, will never
be justice

we are all under judgement
all in balance

judges hanging
from every lamppost and tree

NO FLIES

NO FLIES

no flies on me
but the flies that
are on me

are jewelled, enamelled,
iridescent

and the buzz
they get to  create
louder than
a perfect media storm
where two
idiotic major stories
crash into each somewhere
stupid out
in the mid-Atlantic
shedding each other pieces

as all
establishment voices
in pursuit
    of the savage lie
are so hard-pressed
to miraculously achieve

BEYOND BELIEF

BEYOND BELIEF

poetry
is carbon footprint

it is my
considered impression
                            that

whichever way
you elect most carefully
to slice
     and dice it

Mr Wordsworth Wordsmith

poetry is truth
            raw heart-
beating truth

and so
     carry on regardless,
living your life of forge-
and-foundrey, lathe
and plane,
hammer and
chisel
       metaphor

I’ll stick to my position
close my ears to your
never
      gets new   no way
open to revision
(with
      surgical aural faith
grace and
precision)

stamping this on
all that I rhyme, all
you
   cannot recall,
still
   fail to see:

poetry is
truth
   
true
    imprint

poetry is that
        thing with

power
beyond belief

MAINSTREAM NARRATIVE

MAINSTREAM NARRATIVE
(for the students)

the great locomotive
steamed out of the station

built up
momentum
determined to cross
from
ocean to
ocean

but
ran out of track
and crashed

unable to
hold up that weight
on its cardboard wheels