Each lie, becomes Your Truth...(a poem)

Each lie, becomes
Your truth… (A poem)


On what side of truth,
Do you wish to sand, my sons,
Which sides can you not see,
Father of your bluish-green eyes,
In the blinding valleys of youth
All that was, is now undone,
Like the ash from a fire
That’s now been buried…
(I say leave it where dead lions lie,
A live dog is better off)
All that was, is now undone,
Buried in the gathering winds
Thrown into a maze of darkness
Under the unblinking eyes of God,
Thus, swept and split
(Like old sinful rubbish)
Into the crevices of
Guilt and shame and innocence
(But whose guilt and whose
Innocence, surely not yours or mine?)
That too is all undone, a lie
Just like the gestures of the
Heart and soul, your youth
Long gone, blown away like breath,
All—good and bad, buried
Like a lungful of old stale air
(Long imprisoned)
To die in un-judging love:
All those deeds and words,
And your wicked wishes,
Rubbish, rubbish, rubbish
It’s all rubbish, each truth a lie
Yet you embrace as truth.
To be buried and never brought
Back to life—hence, your
Wicked wish is your truth—
The one you’ll die with.

Perhaps it would have been better
Had you never saw: earth or sky
That the father of those, bluish-green eyes
Would have buried you
At the moon’s first high tide—
Your hearts are like the grinding sea
Moving about death, like flying serpents.
You need to be fed more lies
To keep the untruth you live, alive
To survive your flying ranting
You have more blind days
Than the sun have rays…
Each lie, becomes your truth,
Each truth, a bloodless lie!
How do you live in the winding dark?
Unless you are already dead…


No: 2661/ 2-17-2010