Born to a world
Unable to read
To know what I need
To know
Asking of you
Don’t play fast and loose
The truth, what is it
The truth
Tag Archives: Truth
Oh Words
Each of us
Each
(asserted, channeling Dr. Angelou’s assertiveness)
Is defined not by the dictionary-eyes of casual glancers
Nor by the information-containing codewords from our fathers
Fallen or otherwise
No
Each of us
Each
Is defined by the footstep-shaped letters we leave for others
And by the blessed word riding, wafting, if you will, on our very next breath
Intended or otherwise
Oh
Mother Road
What is the name of that road? The spirit and purpose of it? The one we approach, day in and day out, without hesitation?
Familiar with the smell of it, the distractions, attractions and tourist traps along the way, but unsure, in the dark, where to turn when it’s time, finally time, for a rest stop.
Trust, we must, the touch. The feel of our wheels we were gifted, from The Road of all roads, The Mother.
True Love
Itching, constant itching…and seltzer in my veins.
Given to despair and doom…giving back all gains.
This is how I feel from you…my inglorious lot.
None fiction be more dark than this…none epic, evil plot.
Naught
All I learned Today
Blood’s thicker than Truth
I unsettle You
If my thumb’s broken, it was not for Naught
Kids will find their Fun
Joy lives ‘longside Pain
Victims don’t live Here
Of Your Time
Which is better of a tree? Which is better use of me?
To speak of its presence? Saying, “How strong its solemness, standing tall, withstanding all?” Asking you to close your eyes and opine on how it could be that such a tree only sometimes sways and creaks, whilst all creatures around it move about, busily in elsewhere mode?
Or shall I show this photograph…evidencing all my skill? See here my theft of light, my manipulation of mirrors? All the while holding my breath, knowing all I’d offer you was a lie to your eye, an insult to its blessed, innate sense of depth, of dimension?
Walk we instead, up to this friend and touch, even taste its barked bend? It won’t mind! Trace your finger to its roots-there’s solemnity! Follow, follow upward eyes, leaves dancing in the wind. Shading, singing as a friend?
Aftermath
All the noise, the propaganda
The truthless, loveless bombs
Only the aftermath to deal with
Each season is Winter again
Yesterday is unrecognizable
Today is unbearable
Tomorrow, there’s no one to trust
Not even the flowers
In full bloom one day
Content to take their leave the next
The Contrast
Judging
Stabbing
Muter of truth
A bane hijacking my ears
Pilferer
Thief
Murderous lech
A fool who’s voided my heart
Kept: A Haiku
I was only there
To make it all seem legit
You didn’t need me
In Sales
The left of my brain, omnipresent, churns in the background, planning to acquire real estate, shaking hands with all my synapses, as a snake, propagating the message, “don’t ask for too much.”
The whole of my heart, hope-trained, stands in the line of fire, clad in silvery full armor, bravely readying my skin, deflecting endless barbs of propaganda, imparting the beautiful truth, “I am her too much.”
LisaRosier.com 