Tag Archives: Truth


What good is an open book?

The cat out of the bag?

The un-clenched fist;

The revealed secret…

Divulged, truth dies

A hasty death…

Often with no meaning

And always without love.


While the world assumes its focal point to be someplace,

The real events unfurl elsewhere

In the peripheries of eyes, just round the corners

Pitched battles over pitchfork issues

Come to a close when the Sun’s gone behind the lantana bushes

To scorch ground and sinews on the otherside of an ending.


We think it’s over, when it hasn’t even begun;

We think we are dead, when we haven’t even been concieved;

We fear we are losing, when they haven’t even begun taunting;

We decide we are the ones moving, when the Earth turns one last time.

Not Even You

Nobody would believe my

Dearth of brilliance

Nobody would know my

Set, practiced lines

Nobody would feel my

Lack of inspiration

Nobody would hear me swear

In filthy bursts

Nobody. Not even you.

With Nobody

When all you ever did
Was hold conversations in your head.
Conversations, which if heard outside,
Can leave you nobody
To converse with.