what isn’t so is there to see
awash in our humanity
the fabled price we’ve come to owe
the distance we have left to go
amid the many lies and smears
the finger paints of hands unseen
the manacle that holds us down
the last drop in the old canteen
i wish that what was never there
was always where it never was
but noble lies are still just lies
and truthful is as truthful does
the splattering is in full phase
the course: spaghetti bolognese
but some won’t eat or eat but slow
filled up with all
that isn’t
so
Your poetry for some reason reminds me of another poet writer I follow. He hasn’t blogged for a bit though. I had to read it twice and this is what my mind latched on to…bull shit!!!! ahahahaha.BS in all it’s many forms. Sometimes we are fed so much of that, it’s hard to see what is for what it really is…sometimes we won’t ever see it because always three sides to the story..yours, mind and then the truth. Add the fourth one and you get an awesome confuzzlement ..the fourth being the truth as seen or perceived by others.
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Thank you for all your kind words.
For what it’s worth, I formerly wrote under a different name.
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You did?? My friend called himself Sage Doyle. hehe..you’re not Sage..are you??????
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No. I’ll have to look for his work, though…
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hehehe…I shall find him for you. Coming up in next reply to this comment. I still follow his blog..hehe
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I had to shut down my previous blog when I my anonymity was blown by an old acquaintance. It was hard — I had 7,000 posts on it.
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omg…7000 posts????? Damn. I guess for some people you need that anonymity for particular reasons. I’m really sorry to hear that you lost all those posts..however…the talent and gift of storytelling and words you have won’t ever go…you carry that within you…for another 7000 +++++ posts and more!
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here you go! https://sagedoyle.wordpress.com/
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I did read it; I couldn’t exactly “like” what had happened, so I didn’t hit like, and I could think of what to say about it, so I was silent.
But I read it.
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At this stage of my life, politics and political discussions make me sad. Probably sadder than just about anything else.
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So Sibelius, did you choose this name because you’re a fan of the composer?
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Well, my dad used to call me that, because of my fondness for that composer’s music. So it’s a name I’ve been called.
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