In a post-truth world
the art of lying is lost;
no one’s good at it.
It takes imagination
and some creativity.
In a post truth world,
there’s no need for flattery;
why bother with it?
You can simply fake the facts
and seem like a real genius.
In a post truth world
no news isn’t just good news,
but it’s not real news.
What difference can it make
when no one is listening?
19 FEB 2025
Our entire lifetime:
a short line drawn in water;
soon nothing remains.
It doesn’t matter what ink
or how much pressure you use.
What seems important
doesn’t leave an impression
in time’s vast ocean.
Each of us is a mirage;
Not even wetness is real.
17 FEB 2025
Grasping our nothing
we try sharing everything;
we are all alone.
Wholeness disguises itself
in the mirror’s reflection.
We hold our nothing
like a vast, sacred treasure;
our fingers give out.
Beyond the edge of owning,
true experience begins.
22 JAN 2025
Is the solution
so simple and black and white
that you can tweet it?
Weighing in with your two cents
isn’t risking your money.
Is the right answer
pitting our us against them
in a blind fool’s game?
No one wins a war of words
without caring how you score.
Is this the moment
when we prove how right we are,
simply counting coup
to display our bravery
in a virtual showdown?
Is the solution
shouting at our enemies
until they go deaf?
Just being the loudest noise
is a hollow victory.
19 DEC 2024
This note may be dark,
but it reflects the weather.
Besides, too much light
fades color from everything.
What a gray world that would make!
Rainbows and sunshine
do not help the whole world grow.
There must be dark storms
to fuel life at its deep roots,
build jungles out of deserts.
Seeing only good
is merely self-hypnosis;
dark and light exist
in equal measure out there.
Why persist out of balance?
05 JUN 2017
Why is the sky blue
except from reflected water
stretched between small bits of land?
Why is water blue
except its depths mirror skies
above it, touching everything?
23 MAY 2017
What is this thing life?
Even stuck still in amber
the passage of time remains.
What use is living?
Even the largest river
remembers the breeze touching.
What is this thing life?
Keeping track of each minute
wastes yet another minute.
30 MAR 2017
