Saturday, October 2, 2010

Two More Poems


Truths are close to lies, we feel,
when they don't let us feel secure.
Lies live on through comforting.
Most happy truths do not endure.

Honest Men we think care not
the way we feel when we converse.
Compliments then feel quite good,
but bad news ends up being worse.

Symbols lie more oft than not,
but by themselves they are not bad.
Use them to suggest what is,
save truths to make a soul less sad.

Better not to know at all,
you'll be more social in the end.
Truth feels better when it's fresh
and spoken by an honest friend.

Small things

Were we once God?
This thing might have once been us.
Perhaps it was and we were not.

This little thing:
I suppose it's flammable.
but what good could its fire bring?

Me, it can't trust.
I would rather stub my toe
than grieve over a piece of dust.

Perhaps I will
make a garden for the speck
and see if it tries to rebel.

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