Uncertain Times

Times are uncertain

Perhaps always were.

Now precarious truth

Is underscored.

*

Will we blindly

Keep to what was?

Deluded, sedated

Ignore what is?

*

Or embrace reality

With its mountains and pits.

Find our nobility

Drop our base fears.

*

Let go of our hindrances

Truly co-exist

Courageously, kindly

Be what we are.

I do believe that it is in shedding what does not serve us and others; that we come closer to who we actually are – perhaps more so, than when we gain.

I wonder at times…

I wonder at times,

If I can ever find solace.

Explaining in rhymes;

The suffering, the bollocks?

I find all around me,

Our species applauding.

Its wit and its beauty;

So blinding, so deluding.

So far from the truth,

At best just bright monkeys.

Blundering, and letting loose;

Like fools, like junkies.

Slavishly pursuing,

Poor regard for good deeds.

Hell bent on satiating;

Our desires, our needs.

What about compassion,

And responsibility?

Why we are swayed by fashion;

With triviality, with frivolity?

Audacities Face

I don’t want to preach;

but I must appeal.

For the extraction of a leech,

Rescinding of the deal.

What right my race?

To gorge and grin,

Then show audacities face,

And claim a win

When all we’ve done,

Is suck the worth,

And call it fun.

What idle mirth?

Society is cruel,

Vindictive and spoiled.

It has its own rule,

But is easily foiled.

One can live outside it,

If space is left within,

And still be inside it,

Trying to not give in.

Cannot see the Truth

Cannot see the truth.

Blighted with worries,

I bend and stoop.

Caught in the eddies,

I search for proof.

That our race,

Can escape its greed.

Can grow, show grace,

Its morals breed.

Assure the future’s safe.

From those few,

Whose self interest,

Will spoil for you.

The potential best,

That almost grew.

Before we got,

Carried away.

With what,

We have and where we lay.

To a time when our lot.

Is for knowledge,

And not things.

When a grudge,

And blings,

Cannot define things.

Homage to Hiroshima

The folded wings of the origami dove teased by the breeze.
The shell of the dome remembers,
A day our race realised,
The monster it had created.

It’s a truth that those people who; scorched and poisoned,
Suffered to save us all.
If it were not for that horror, and
Without the cold conflict,

Where would we now be?