Offered Wine… Served Kool-Aide

Beware you serfs, sucked in

by superfluous words wrapped in thorns

pricked and pounded by talking heads

offering hot air opinions

floating away,

bursting in mid air

bottle rocket promises full of

spectacular show and nothing more

*

Beware of blunderbuss arrows

pulled from your quiver of bias

shot from tensioned bow pulled

back, bleeding hearts left crying

wounds that never heal, running

blood red, not black, white, or yellow

dreams stained streets crying for hope

futures down times drain,

never coming to fruition

*

Beware you serfs, feeding off crumbs

from the masters table thinking

caviar and filet minion

Promised “a chicken in every pot”

only to find bones and feathers

floating in cesspools of bigotry and hate

destroying the marrow of society

grinding bones of workers

into mortar for castles of gold

*

Beware you serfs when you watch

cherry picking favorite words and lines

feeling like twisted truth is genuine

offering you Wine … but serving Kool-aide

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Lisa asked us to consider the Vatic Voice, the voice of the prophet in our poetry, speaking as though from the voice of God! I decided to try something different for me with a prophetic political rant. Tonight is the first of the Presidential Debates. Never have we had such extreme differences in the candidates. It is easy to simply choose someone who thinks and talks like we do, but there is much more at stake. We are choosing a way of thinking for the future of the country. The two candidates are really irrelevant, in my opinion. We are voting for a philosophy.

Join us at: https://dverse poets.com Then click on the Mr. Linkey box to read poems written by other poets as well.

Trojan Horse

Bing photo:

The political debates rage on

Nasty politics as usual

Twists of truth filled with lies;

and we believe…

what we have already set in our minds

But, with every election

there come a Trojan Horse;

One of beauty and promise

captivating the minds of believers;

Promising they are on you side

The Trojan Horse of politics

doesn’t come sculpted in wood or stone;

Rather, ladened with sculpted words

carved and shaped to entice…

Believing there is nothing within them

that would change or harm us

Don’t be swayed by outward words.

Look deep into the sculpted belly

of hidden agendas and dark money;

Into the self-centered soul of the beast (politics)

that in the end will burst open

disillusion // and destroy us all!

Our Narrow Perspective

EER_0697 (2)

Blinders…
Amish buggy clopping down the road
Horse looking straight ahead pulling her load
Not seeing side to side // distractions might scare
Blinders shading each eye // make her unaware.
On down the road and into the barn
Knows her place // she always goes home
*
Just like us clopping down the road
Choosing our blinders pulling our load;
Refusing to see what’s all around us.
Distractions might scare us // the news might blind us
Tell us we might be wrong // or twist our thinking
With all our choices, it could drive us to drinking
*
As long as we can see straight ahead
We stay on course knowing we’re lead…
Down the road of our personal choosing;
We forge ahead even though we’re losing.
Unlike the horse, who must wear her blinders
We choose to ignore reality’s reminders

IMG_0268 (2)

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

With the new election year coming up, I thought this little rerun jab might wake us up!

Smoke and Mirrors

IMG_0547

A preacher once told his congregation, ” You can pretty much count on the fact that what’s happening is not always what’s going on!” This is really true when it comes to politics and the News Media. We have heard many accusations being thrown at the media for broadcasting fake news. With news that continues twenty-four hours a day everything gets turned into news. Today, President Trump’s Twitter account was shut down for eleven minutes by an exiting employee. It made the evening news! What more can I say!

Smoke Screens                 

Politics

A circus of smoke and mirrors

Half-truths polished and shiny

Stretching every word out of context

Smoke screens of the insignificant

Always hiding reality

Behind a cover of lies

Showing only fragments

Promising pots of gold

At the end of the rainbow

False hope in a holey bucket

Filled with wishes and fantasies

Pouring steadily out the bottom

Mirrors in a TV funhouse of fright

Giving only distorted views fake news

Twisting everything out of proportion

Don’t believe the hype

Look beyond the smoke and mirrors

Dig out the shreds of truth

Always remember

What you see is not what you will get

And what’s happening is not

What’s going onIMG_0547

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Chasing Truth

EER_0326

Perspective changes how we understand truth. I believe what we consider to be truth is part of a much bigger entity.   The apostle Paul said we see through fogged up glasses.  It is interesting to me that people think they have a handle on truth, and that gives them the right to judge everyone else. I find that much of what we believe is truth is based on faith. In spite of that some feel they must prove that what they believe is really true based on facts. They take what little they have and recreate it into something very different. Others take it as a mandate and try to force it on everyone else. I have been chasing truth all my life. This poem shares some of what I have learned.

Chasing Truth

I run toward truth

Arms wide open as a lover’s embrace

Breathless with anticipation

I move through the swamp’s fog

Heading for higher ground

*

I reach for truth

Gathering it as bort on the diamond cutter’s floor

Only to find the chips

Are parts of a much larger facet

Shining as they may

They are only the edges of a greater glory

 *

I grasp truth

As a child clings to his toy

Thinking no one else will possess it but me

Settling for sparkling dust on the cutting room floor

And seeking no more

 *

I find truth

Shining in all its faceted glory

Set in nature’s gold and love’s embrace

EER_0318

Only to tarnish it

With Id and Ego

Thinking it is I who makes it shine

 *

I face truth

Dimmed by all its light

EER_0122

Surely if I change it some,

It will suit me much better when not so bright

 *

So, I grind it

With mortise and pestle

‘Till all it becomes is dust in the bowl

Never again to be part of the whole