radical druid

Saying Nothing: sonnet

Published on August 14, 2025

So many ways to share our thoughts, and yet,
we choose instead to merely nod and wink
to better justify and then forget
those fleeting moments where we stop to think.

It’s not a conversation that we seek,
nor dialogue that motivates our daily posts.
We tend to lead with pictures, and not speak,
lest we reveal our monsters as mere ghosts.

We give ourselves so little time and space
to build ideas into flesh and blood.
Preoccupied with scandal and disgrace,
we lose our focus wallowing in mud.

And what is that we really want to say?
The world is wrong if it’s not done my way.

14 Aug 2025

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A Boost for Sarah Bakewell

Published on August 13, 2025

Paperback Humanists

I’m now reading my third book from Sarah Bakewell. The first two (on Montaigne and the Existentialists, respectively) were really quite good, and provided writing prompts for months 🙂 #SarahBakewell #Humanism #BookSky #Writing #Philosophy

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Sing a Morning Song

Published on August 11, 2025

On the east edge of now, the sun rises
against a somber dawn of fading grays.
In that new light of morning, awaken,
and shake the sleep of apathy away.

What time exists is in this moment, here.
It cannot be extended or exchanged
in some transaction seeming more auspicious
or played to some advantage yet unseen.

Let loose your eyes and ears! Enjoy this instant!
There is no opportunity to come.
Let memory defend itself this evening –
the morning’s hay is made in daylight hours.

What use some future state that never comes,
or dusty, faded memories grown old,
their polished surface worn from excess handling?
The bird is in the bush, never the hand.

Let loose your tongue and find a better song,
one free from someone else’s maudlin words!
There is a song that only you can sing.
If you don’t start it now, no one else will.

11 AUG 2025

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Time Enough

Published on August 7, 2025

If there is time enough for this and that,
for endless hours to deconstruct ennui
and countless minutes lost in might have been,
then surely there is room for something more.

The clock’s always correct just once a day.
It never moves or gives itself away,
but blithely watches on as we digress,
or find another way to sit and spin.

But we are no mere aspic holding on
to minuscule and tasteless bits of life.
Our grip can only wrestle with our grasp,
and neither proves adhesive in the end.

What else would you have time enough to try?
The busyness of spectacle consumes
so much of what could be but never is,
and leaves us much more lonely than alone.

If there is time to waste, why make much more?
There isn’t any race left us to run.
We hear eternal echoes but have learned to hate our ears.
There’s always time enough to try again.

06 Aug 2025

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Idle Chat(ter)

Published on August 6, 2025

There is too much of nothing here
for me to speak at length.
To break it down to mere ideas
would take all our strength.

Instead, pretend it’s something grand, more worthy of our time.
That may convince the rest of us
to stand up, down the line.

Besides, we’ve talked and talked to death
our, grief, and shame.
We’ll never be real heroes
while we seek someone to blame.

And further, while we spend our time
conversing this and that,
the foxes in the chicken coop
will dine until they’re fat.

This idle conversation makes us
tired and prone to sleep
while what we think the world should be
grows ponderous and deep.

Instead, let us waste no more words
debating right and wrong.
What chance we have to change our course
will fade before too long.

There’s always talk of nothing much,
of what we plan to do.
A dream is made of simple stuff
’til action makes it true.

So let us talk of something else,
of things that make some sense.
For talk alone won’t change the world –
of that there’s evidence.

05 Aug 2025

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Too Much is Still Unsaid

Published on August 4, 2025

Too much is still unsaid that lies beneath
the words we loosely share in public space,
and in that gap between the truth and lies
we share what guilt there is to spare.

Our conversations tend to short and sweet,
like advert jingles meant to sell the steal
from our too willing hands caught in the till.
We keep our missives to the point and brief.

The dialogue may seem a bit one-sided,
since by and large we mostly talk alone.
There is no use in trading misperceptions,
nor wasting time in chasing some strange dreams.

Too much is still unsaid that must be heard:
the words we use all seem to miss the point,
and in the gap between the real and fake
we learn the lessons keeping us alive.

04 Aug 2025

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Here and There

Published on August 3, 2025

You there
with the blank stare
pretending not to care
acting like you’re not even there
seeming so unaware
nothing to share
nowhere

You there
in your armchair
smug it’s not your affair
offering up your thoughts and prayer
with a sense of laissez-faire
while sirens blare
somewhere

You there
on the top stair
it is not my fault, you swear
they found their way into my lair
and with no time to spare
I did not dare
to care

You there
your cupboards bare
crying out it’s not fair
how could I have been more aware
avoided this hurtful snare
stayed on the square
out there

You there
with the blank stare
are you even really there
when the whole social fabric tears
will you begin to care
about this shared
nightmare?

04 Aug 2025

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radical druid Posts

Saying Nothing: sonnet

A Boost for Sarah Bakewell

Sing a Morning Song

Time Enough

Idle Chat(ter)

Too Much is Still Unsaid

Here and There