Tag Archives: truth


I look around,
And wonder why
So many people
Have pushed the button
On self-destruct.

I know human beings
Can be selfish and mean,
Horrendous and spiteful,
Then turn around, and
Blow us away, with
Blazing insight and
Unbridled compassion.

So why is it,
That all that I read,
In the main-stream news,
Are idiots’ views, the selfish
And mean, close-minded, hateful
Meme, of the “us” and the “them,”
Strident voices of ludicrously short-
Sighted hate, self-aggrandising voices,
Who, in their inane chatter,
Drown out common sense,
Insensing the followers,
And anti-followers alike,
This great brain-washed subconscious leakage,
Global in spill,
Human-kinds current poison of choice,
Our very own,
Species’ suicide pill.

I watch,
And I listen,
To all those who whisper,
And shout,
The calm
And the strident,
And all in between.

The lovers,
The fighters,
The meek
And the mean.

And all I really take in,
The rhythm beneath the noise,
Is the growing pains
Of a world at war
With itself,
The birth of a new global order,
Unfortunately grasped
As is usual
By the furiously greedy few,
Who see the opportunity,
To screw everyone who isn’t them,
Using mass fear, and racial tension,
To pull the wool over the majority’s eyes,
While they busily reshuffle the deck,
Prep for check-mate,
Before moving in for the kill,
So sure of themselves,
And their control (money) over free will.

What these same arrogant,
Self-satisfied few
Have forgotten, is that
Tens of thousands of
Years ago,
In humanity’s beginning,
Even those who imagined
An all powerful being,
In whatever shape, form, or number,
The one thing that omniscient presence
Could not control
Was free will.

And to the powers that be,
In light of the truth,
And all that has led
To the hear and now,
Your time is coming.

For in the fertile earth,
That you till, taking more
Than your fair share,
Trodding over all other living things,
You also plant the seeds
Of your own destruction.

Like I said at
The beginning, the sorrow
I feel
As I watch this global car crash
In slow motion
Extends to those
Who believe that they are in
The driver’s seat;
You know not what you do.

And to the rest;
Open your eyes,
Hope and believe,
Open your heart,
Be compassionate,
For love and an open mind
Will be all the power any of us
Have left
When the dust settles.

Here’s to hoping
That we stop the train,
Or at least slow it down,
Before our world becomes a train wreck,
And we all suffer equally
For the greed of the few.

broken humachine

The sad lost rundown engine
Turns, spinning us off into
An infinity of unknown confusion,
Our forlorn loneliness, just another
Tear, drop in the ocean, heart-string
Plucked, resonating the sound of our loss, deep
Down in the gut of our source, where
We all came from, first pushed, then pulled,
Grabbed, hung upside down for a moment,
That first screaming searing burning blindness,
The first coughing clutch of outside poison air,
The first disappointment, the first
In a line of continuing disappointments,
Our own failings and fate’s cruel tricks
Of giving us precisely what we ask for,
If only we remember those requests made, long
Before we had a clue what the outcome of our
Wishes could ever be, this we take
All in our stride, breath deep the air of
Regret, wonder where the time went
And pray that we don’t end up embittered
Like all the grumpy negative kind, so happy
To be miserable, reminded every day
By their own shit-tinted glasses
How nasty the world is, while
The rest of us carry on, making
The most out of what we have,
Breathlessy running from one extreme
To another, learning forever that karmafatelucksodslaw wins, every
Time picking ourselves up, dusting ourselves,
Off, heading out into the world
Bright eyed and bushy-tailed,
As if the next time the bruises will have healed first, instead of
Compounding rotten emotional fracture with fresh psychological bruising,
Able to get up and carry on, yet kicking ourselves
For being so foolish to think the next time
Will be any different, as if we have forgotten
That first screaming burning blinding breath
Of noise polluted air, poisoned by the very liquid life
That we grasp gasping to the very end,
None of us more terrified then I of dying
Reaching vainly for that last breath, sucking
Ineffectually at dying lungs, weak
From the effects of living, breathing
That polluted air –
When a moment strikes, a man on the train
The melodrama stops, inner voice momentarily stunned into silence,
Like breath held in aweshockwonder at dawn breaking silent
Over a desert mountaintop, this man, at first
Glance, nothing more than a ‘trainspotter’, someone
Lost between this time and tomorrow, mind’s
Eye fogged up with imagesemotions living memories
Taking up all of his mental and emotional
Space, clouding his eyes to what is,
Breath held as we watch him
Sift through a plastic bag of
Old letters, bills, paperwork,
Moving files from place to place, as if
It mattered where each sheet was, forgetting even
As he moves them, one envelope at a time
Why he bothers, perhaps peaking sanity
Up through the depths of fogged consciousness,
Eyes meeting other commuters, seeing enough
To survive, judging benign from dangerous,
Only survival level awareness left, this man
Who once clearly had a ‘life’, just as
You and I, now sits befuddled on a train,
Confused even by his own busy hands sifting
Through his own well-fingered materials,
How many times has he picked up this same envelope,
Looked at it bewildered, perhaps unsure of why he holds it still,
All of the previous memories of holding
This same letter perhaps giving him some anchor
In reality, a touchstone for the remainder
Of his sanity, as we know it, but
Still we stand, holding our breath, watching
The lost movements of a ‘broken’ humachine, lost
But still all there, as much us as we are him, and
We are reminded of the cruelist of life’s mean japes, that
Even the most astute, sharp, aware, in
Control amongst us can slip and fall, for
Something as simple as a misfired neuron, missed timing,
Misconnection primed, made and with repetitious visits,
Ironed into place, the frailty of the human mind,
Human kind only holding onto this ‘reality’ by a gossamer thread,
Waking up one bright loud screaming gasping nightday, working
Endlessly to reach ulterior goals, outside of
Who we are, forever reaching and striving
For the ever disappearing horizon, only
To end up dead, as we all will
Eventually. Until we see him,
Sitting on the train, alive and hearty,
Yet ‘not all there’, out of touch, and
We freeze, remembering how life can be the
Most fickle of bed partners, first searing pain,
Fear, screaming blindness,
Then life’s ups and downs, bumps
And grinds, all in hopes of something better,
Whether in this life, or the next depending on
Prevailing religious views, only to be
Stopped dead, as it were, in our tracks
By a single man, lost as a young child left
All alone by mistake,
Separated from parents
By cruel twist of fate, corner turned
Too fast, another wipeout in life’s 24 hour
Race, reminding us there is more
To life than striving, we live,
We die, we lose, and
We get lost,
This is our life.
This is our premise,
Life’s bitter sweet decline
It all ends in the same terminal
Way, why not enjoy what
We have, before it
Has all gone.

Potatoe potahto

Recently I was accused
Of some sort of racial slur
In a story I wrote
About gorillas in
Much Like Us.

When I looked again
Re-reading it through someone else’s eyes
Or as close as I could get in my own mind’s eye
I still could not see what they meant
Though I tried as hard as I might.

So I sat
And I thought
About all the pictures people see
About how we all see a different world
Through a myriad of different eyes,
How everything is up to us to define
Decipher, discover, decide
And we are all as infallible as each other.

From the slightest misunderstanding
To religious discourse, to racial hatred and outright war
The whole problem is us humans, desperate to not be alone
Fighting for some real meaning, some vital substance
In this life, on this rock, floating alone through space,
The vacuum that surrounds us.

There is no straight answer,
No all-encompassing truth that we can all happily
Accept, nothing that is so clear cut and true
That we all see it the same way, so we go on
Fighting and arguing, judging and describing
Pidgeon-holing. Reinforcing our own preset world view
Until all that exists in the wonder of reality
Fits within our own ten-second segment of bite-size life,
Allowing us to relax back into comfortable modes of behaviour,
The ruts of common existence and habitual blindness.

When will we all wake up to the pure beauty of clear sight?