Tag Archives: deceit

Dainty Tyrant

A lie is only a lie when plotted against the truth,
alone, the deception is plausible;
with time enough to gestate, undeniable;
with power enough to overwhelm, unchallengeable;
with support enough to rise, unquenchable.

Determined diminutive deceptions deftly directed,
degrade democracy, defending dictators.

Truth torn to tatters, tortured through tantrums,
transitions to trepidatious tragedies, that turn tail,
                                                                                then takeoff.

Sympathy for Deceit

We know only fantasy,
lies we’ve carried throughout history,
on backs, on packs, on animals and carriages,
on everything we could put our name to,
because those are lies too –

A sound was uttered without intent,
echoed, and intent was gifted.
A place was found to celebrate,
loved so much it became known,
shared, and then claimed, owned.

This is how the story goes,
on and on with momentum.
What we owned owning us,
assigned value, printed on paper,
that we depend on –
to be worth more than ourselves.

Still, all these feints in chorus,
compose a symphony of notes
someone told us were chords;
love, heroism, virtue, justice;
a life fulfilled, a place to be,
a heart, a time or feeling for which we long.

Honesty in this late stage,
is a cruelty, not a kindness.
All those colorful fables,
that line our hearts and minds with aspirations,
if critiqued, practically and with reason,
are suddenly
and dispassionately
gone.

Conservation of Matter

Labor over me, I am no triviality.
When the craven shadows creep out the corners,
detritus spilling over the threshold of the coming day,
swallow your pride and come my way.

Deceit is a warm comfort to an old friend,
but that heat compounds anxiously within;
better to suffer the thin cuts of sharp ice,
than to ingest the ashes of a consuming flame.

Quiet Triumph

What armor need truth?
Truth is indefensible,
indiscriminate,
indispensable.

No monsters exist beyond truths reach,
no obstacle can withstand its might,
but few fear its conquest.

For all its weight must be wielded,
and fewer still have such strength.
They speak its name,
list its dimensions,
even threaten,
but seldom brandish it;
betting everything on mere intent.

Like a young heart beneath mortality’s veil,
truth soothes with practicality,
overwhelms with certainty,
and in their embrace, reveals;

truth needs no armor.
No monster endures truth,
not even truth itself.