Writing in the dark
is hard, requires balance,
leaning on insight.
Things do not smell right
despite heightened sense of smell
and story to tell.
Writing in the dark
makes hard to appreciate
journalists who fall.
Things are now hidden
behind false information.
See? Nothing at all.
And, so it goes down:
free speech, free press, redress.
Democracy Dark!
“Start writing” the app says.
So easy is it to reveal
The secret places in the heart,
The solemn vaults in the mind,
The wounded spaces in the body?
Think that is not a really big deal?
Hiding from self seems the norm.
For a very good reason
From the day we are born.
First we must grow into one we know
Can protect and defend
The one we hide deep below.
What risk writers take to open wide
A self hidden and safeguarded inside.
Risk is too small a word for the task
Of showing self vulnerable, anxious, naked at last;
seeking connection inside you, with words that will last.
Filed under POETRY
On the lintel stone
of my grade school
above the entrance
children passed through
every day,
after we left church
where we gathered to pray,
were the words to guide us through
childhood to adulthood as the
the good sisters would say:
“Ye shall know the truth
and the truth shall set you free.”
Those words I reviewed
each night before I slept,
an examination of conscience
of my personal truth;
what I had done that day,
who I had shown myself to be,
to myself and others
I had met along the way.
Uneasy truths rose in my mind
of tasks left undone
so I could play;
unmet needs of others
who got in my way;
truths I wished would go away
so I could pretend to be
someone so much better
than you, and better than me.
It is not others we fear.
We only fear who we are,
deep inside
where our truth resides.
So, we hide away from ourselves
and fear discovery
that we are truly
not enough:
not good enough,
not strong enough,
not smart enough,
not wise enough,
not wealthy enough,
not educated enough,
not employed enough,
not courageous enough
to examine our conscience;
to own our thoughts and deeds,
to own our responsibility,
to own our need for love,
for passion,
for resilience,
for endurance,
for persistence.
Better to take time
to watch the game,
to drink at the bar,
to take the drug,
to avoid all blame
for what we refuse
to give away.
And the only way
this fraud can continue
is to become a con
like so many others.
Great con men become
our saving heroes
and allow us to blame
all The Others
in their name.
Filed under POETRY
annarino writes 