Tag Archive: Satirical

truth_lies : who cares ?

| truth_lies: who cares |


they say the truth needs only be whispered,

they say so much,
about truth and about lies,

they know so much about both,

its blatant,
plainly clear,

they’ve peddled lies,
and tarnished truths,

haven’t we all,

in-between the translucent haze,
of so many drinks,

dumbed down before the worlds’ eyes’ blinks,

yes, and i am sorry,
but who are you again,

I didn’t get your name,
actually, i really don’t care,

and yes,
that really is,

like life,

a shame.

Forgotten Yesteryears

days skim along,
the rapids, white waters,
seconds moments years lives,

fleeting, strings in the common play, strung along,

plucked, teased,
echoes of longpast melodies,

of lips ablaze, tremulous, desirous, insatiable,

seeking yours,
savouring the moments,

since then.

after all this …

when tears have dried,
adhered, embossed,
etching each streak –

pain, joy, sorrow, grief, relief, release, fear, hope, hopeless,

every crevasse dug, every trench buried, in the minefield of scattered emotions, blurred tremors, whispers, murmuring,

beckoning, reaching out,
cajoling, consoling, offering sustenance, solace,

far far after all of this,

this burdensome shroud, these masks, these tongues,

creasing skin, chiselling out decades, months, moments,

shackled in crutches,

and still, somehow,
the murmur rises,
a cool crescendo swelling,

urging us to stand,
not on bended knee,

but tall –

for we may slip,

yet, still,
we shall rise,

we shall rise,
taller, with each fall.

they do not see me at all

they do not see me at all …

as i walk through these desecrated avenues

of soul-deadening frenzy

i see them all rushing past me

and no matter how hard i try to holler and to call

they do not see me at all

it seems at times, that invisible am i

for when i reach out, and shriek out, and when on my knees i crawl

they rush past me

for they do not see me at all

i have tried to raise their ire, i have taunted and goaded them, till exhausted and fatigued, to the cold damp ground i fall

still they rush past me

for they do not see me at all

i stand mutely then and wave my hands all around while scribbling verses in my unintelligible scrawl

and yet they rush past me

for they do not see me at all

they rush past me, knocking me over without ever looking back

and then trampling over my fallen form, they look past my limp crumpled shadow, as they whine on in their monotonous drawl

for they do not see me at all

and when at last i see them look my way, and as a flicker of recognition crosses their faces

i wish to crawl back into my nothingness

where they cannot see me at all


with this new morn
may your dreams soar on

into the boundless openness of promise

away from the strife of the now
far from the pain of today

away from words sentences faded alphabets dead parchment

to shed it all
tossing the detritus away

and to rise

to rise up
to grab on

onto dreams
onto hopes

free finally to unshackle
chains cast off

oaths mouthed
vows broken

free finally from frothy lies

truly alive
at last

under never ending

cloudless skies

A Meditation on Racism …

“…All we need is a voluntary, free-spirited, open-ended program of procreative racial deconstruction. Everybody just gotta keep fuckin’ everybody ’til they’re all the same color…” – Warren Beatty in the motion picture “Bulworth”

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