
a truth’s
veracity
regarded through subjective
lenses is easily dismissed
as smoke with no fire
~kat
why so shocked
it’s not like we didn’t know
such fools…we deserve this mess
and more, for our willful indifference
this monstrosity is our own doing,
every unearthed revelation, every vulgar tweet,
ironic, how greatness has become our undoing
~kat
For Jane Dougherty’s Daily Poem Challenge 42.
My political commentary for the day. Nothing should shock us anymore, and yet, we still find ourselves dumbfounded, mouth agape, staring blankly at our screens, every time a new “truth” comes to light and the talking heads jabber away with feigned outrage (secretly happy for the increased ratings to be had for their latest expose’).
One thing I have noticed has changed, however. We are no longer afraid of the “L” word. We no longer tiptoe around it as was the practice only a few short years ago. It is not uncommon to hear it proclaimed without even a blip of hesitation. “The president LIED.” “Well that is just a lie.” No more, “maybe it’s alternative facts”, “maybe he really believes it”, no more, “to say something is a lie, we must know the intent of the liar, and of course it is impossible to know intent…” Apparently, we are past giving a pass to this liar in chief who cannot tell the truth…ever. And that I believe is a good thing. Oh there are still the die-hards who believe every cockamamie thing that comes from his orange face; who believe every word he tweets with his tiny fingers. Nothing will ever convince them otherwise. But I am encouraged that the truth seems to be making a slow, steady comeback by default. Truth is still a bit elusive, but the fact that we can acknowledge a lie when it is a lie, is a good start.
Peace.
The muse is being philosophical today…😉
light is not quiet
we’d know this
if we were listening
they will whisper
do it anyway
live like no one
is watching
i love knowing
that somewhere
in the world flowers
are blooming and
day is night…when
we look up we see
the same sky
go for brilliance
or not at all
there is no almost
to breathing
~kat

Tell Me Who You Are
tell me who you are
not what you are; that’s just an illusion
tell me who you are
with beautiful words, show me your heart
identifiers just cause confusion
and labels to presumptive conclusions
tell me who you are
~kat
A Rondelet (AbAabbA). Photo by 3dman_eu @ Pixabay.
One of those Monday’s with few minutes to spare, and so, a few Minute poems (8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4/aabb, ccdd, eeff)for Jane Dougherty’s ‘A Month with Yeats’ – Day Twenty, Poetry Challenge inspired by the verse below from Yeats’ poem, ‘The Old Age of Queen Maeve’. The painting is IvanBilibin‘s illustration to a Russian fairy tale about the Firebird, 1899.

‘out of the dark air over her head there came
a murmur of soft words and meeting lips.’—W.B. Yeats
breath to death
in dim-lit sterile cells we wait
to meet our fate
the reeper’s sweep
our souls to keep
medicated interventions
good intentions
stripped dignity
dis-harmony
we rage against eternity
our destiny
is but a breath
to peaceful death
Branded
it’s comes to ‘do you believe them?’
all the women
nothing to lose
who claim abuse
for if you side with privileged men
know in the end
you’ll share their shame
for selfish gain
it really does come down to this
you can’t dismiss
you’ll wear the brand
of where you stand
~ kat