I AM NOT MOSES

Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones … Singing Angels (‘Honesty’) Tapestry 1898 (detail)

Do I just pretend to be open
am I a charlatan at heart
how sincere 
how honest 
when push 
comes to shove 
when the chips are down 
what remains
that is true to my intent

Have I forsaken my promise 
my desire to be me
openly faithful 
truly chaste 
a compassionate soul
struggling for honesty
and resolved to lead
into the Promised Land

My poems are 
imagination’s creatures
but still
slave to whim 
to make-believe 
and the pre-determined end
does this condemn me to 
reach a bargain
to fudge the truth

If so then
has that truth 
become another lie 
or does it just allow me
a latitude
a breadth of narrative 
which covers up 
the shallowness of my intent

I compromise surely
make accommodations to reality
inhibited by
thoughts of entitlement 
feelings of worth
desire to please 
to purchase credibility
a mercenary versifier
forever regretting
that this facade 
must be negotiated
with my better judgement
not wanting to hurt 
protecting decorum and 
further weakening honesty 
effectively
dissolving the truth

And yet 
rather this 
than face the rejection 
that surely would follow 
as always 
the truth that 
no – I am no wunderkind
not tomorrow’s success
nor Destiny’s child
just waiting
to be found

Moses Discovered In The Bulrush  

VERITY

Verity’ by Damien Hirst, Ilfracombe, Devon … Photograph … WHB – 2015

‘VERITY’ is the name given to a stainless steel and bronze statue created by Damien Hirst, the English artist, entrepreneur, and art collector. He is the most prominent member of the group known as the Young British Artists, who dominated the art scene in the UK during the 1990s.

The 20.25-metre tall sculpture stands on the pier at the entrance to the harbour in Ilfracombe, Devon, looking out over the Bristol Channel towards South Wales.  Hirst lives close to the town. He describes his work as a “modern allegory of truth and justice”.  The statue depicts a pregnant woman holding aloft a sword while carrying the scales of justice and standing on a pile of law books.  Half of the sculpture shows the internal anatomy of the pregnant woman, with the foetus clearly visible. (adapted from Wikipedia)

VERITY

Pregnant,
Opened up, exposed,
Exhibit Number One

I am birth corroborated,
Prying eyes sated,
Privacy crushed

Paraded for the populace
To ponder,
To pity

They ogle,
Excoriate,
Turn witty

Solicitudes are rare;
Their taunts I bear;
Reproofs I must abide

And yet, I am the truth
About how it is
To be free

My brandished threat
Repays the debt
My innocence holds

My stance, defiance,
Thwarts compliance,
Demands a voice

But to keep hope alive,
Live long, survive,
I must be exposed

Must confront
The brutal sea,
The relentless incoming tide

No chance repose;
What end my woes;
Torment inside

My frightened stare
Torches the tides,
Seeking solace

Whilst emblazoned in light
Against the torrid sky
The world gawps

I must bear
The stares
And cry

I am torn apart;
My pain is there
For all to see.

In a world that demands
To know,
To know everything

The truth is there
For all to see,
To verify that I
Am VERITY

Poem by WHB . . . 2015 Copyright

‘Verity’ by Damien Hirst, Ilfracombe, Devon … Photo WHB – 2015

A PLEA FOR FAITH

‘The Incredulity of St. Thomas’ by Caravaggio (c.1601) Now in the Sanssouci Palace, Potsdam, Berlin, Germany

I composed these verses many years ago, in my youth, when struggling to come to terms with my staunchly Christian upbringing, and to move into a less accepting, more questioning future.  In many ways I have moved forward very little since.

Print words of faith into my heart;
Brand me with irons of proof;
Dispel the doubts that have held me
So long from thee aloof.

I need the truth, I can’t say why –
I won’t let you desert.
I want to find those inner wounds,
I need to feel your hurt.

My outer self accepts you whole,
And shields you from assaults.
Effectively, I water down
And camouflage your faults.

Believe me when I say I try,
But that will not suffice.
A great despair dispels the light
And the devil’s fiends entice.

But when the doubts arise inside
I can’t dispel the gloom,
Because I know I’m losing you
and hurtling to my doom.

The devil prompts and makes me ask
That central question “Why?
Do I really believe in God above,
Below or in the sky?”

Then I reflect and need to know
If all my past is sham.
Why do so many still believe
He was the Son of Man?

Print words of faith into my heart;
Brand me with irons of proof;
Dispel the doubts that have held me
So long from thee aloof.

Secrets

‘See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil’   (Photo – WHB)

A fuller description of the story of ‘The Three Monkeys’ and of the various interpretations of the maxim ‘See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil‘ is given following the poem below.  The idea for my verses was prompted by my acquisition of the above figurine, and are an attempt to get inside the mind of someone with secrets to keep.  I deny any relationship between my versified thoughts and my own reality.

SECRETS

“Ask no secrets, please”;
“Tell no lies indeed”;
For if you break these rules,
Then hearts will blanch and bleed.

“Never tell a secret”
Or so the saying goes.
So hold on to that rule.
Never the facts disclose.

“Your secret’s safe with me”
I’ve heard that said before.
It never is the case;
They always ask for more.

“I won’t tell if you won’t”
I said that as a child,
But what I had to hide then
Was relatively mild.

# # #

But now life is more complex;
I have more sins to hide.
Such damning indiscretions
I never could confide.

My secrets, now I’m older,
Are surely on the rise.
‘T would border on disaster;
To tell would not be wise.

The priest in all his wisdom
Receives confession now.
I cannot dare to tell him
Of  where and why and how.

# # #

But then, again, I wonder
What life would mean to me,
If all my peccadilloes
Were there for all to see.

Perhaps they’d view my sins
As Walter Mitty copies.
As venial casual slip-ups,
As minor paltry follies.

As commonplace as foibles;
As lethal as a pin.
Hardly ‘mea culpa’
And not Original Sin.

# # #

If others think them simple,
Not worthy of reflection,
Still to me they’re weighty
And threaten with detection.

I ask these questions blithely;
I truly want to know.
Do you have secret longings
That you will never show?

That you will never tell;
And let no one discover;
Let no one even guess
You’ve got a secret lover?

I would tempt fate and listen
To what you say and feel,
But I really fear the outcome
Of what your heart conceals.

Such secrets are forbidden
To all but you and me;
Unknown to friend or rival,
 And that’s how it should be.

# # #

Please keep your secrets from me;
We say we’ll never lie.
We tried to keep that promise,
To keep it till we die.

But when  with life we’re parting
We’ll lay them at our feet.
Our secrets are the same now –
No more, no more, deceit.

So only at the end
When all regrets must cease,
Perhaps we’ll be permitted
To find a kind of Peace.

# # #

Telling More Fibs

Fibonacci poetry, or FIB VERSE, was founded by Gregory K. Pincus as a 6-line poem that follows the Fibonacci sequence for syllable count per line.
For the 6-line poem that means:

1 syllable for first line
1 syllable for second line
2 syllables for third
3 syllables for fourth
5 syllables for fifth
8 syllables for sixth

*****

Here are two more examples of my own attempts to compose FIB VERSE . . .

( I have published previous examples of FIB VERSE which you can find by typing ‘Fibs’ into the SEARCH BAR on this blog’ )

TELLING FIBS … #3. CARPE DIEM
Here
Now
Today
Grasp the chance
Say ‘Carpe Diem’
Seize this new day with fortitude

TELLING FIBS…. #4
Look
Learn
Be wise
Hold to Truth
Never embroider
For the truth will bring you freedom

Discernment

DISCERNMENT

Wisdom in making choices
The difference between success and failure
That or This
I fancy that
On a whim
Going by my hunch
Informed by research
by feeling
by preconceived idea
by suggestion
by prior study
or by experience. 
Always too many choices
Myriads of multiplicities
And all with no return from choices made

How to tell
Truth from falsehood
Heaven from Hell
Real from fake
I know them well
But how distinguish
When needs must
Worm from snake 
Ashes from dust
Success from failure 
Love from lust 
Doubt from certainty
Dependence from trust

But try as I must
My heart to trust
My beclouded eye
Can neither vilify nor verify
And while discernment strives
Doubt to dispel
My true self dithers
While confidence withers
And I am left
Indecisive
Of certainty bereft

While Time Ticks On: 2-word Tales #15

Pen&Wash-WHB

WHILE TIME  TICKS  ON

Time tells
Its tale
Tick tock
Tock tick

If truth
Be told
When time
Runs out
I won’t
Be stressed
I won’t
Be tired
Just sad
Wist-full
Pen-sive
Love-sick

Yet still
Hell bent
To start
With zeal
Pre-pared
To do
Just what
It takes
To live
A-gain

Next time
In peace
Con-cord
Re-pose
While time
Still there
Ticks on

 

Declaration of a Poet Manqué

 

SAY AFTER  ME  . . .

Declaration of a  Poet Manqué

I  . . . 

MALAKI  JUBILATION  SNODGRASS –

Aka Roland of the White Rose –

And living a blissful prelapsarian life of the Imagination,

Being of covinous and unsound mind,

And possessing unlimited gall and braggadocio,

Do solemnly declare that, hereafter.

I shall endeavour

To remain in perpetuity,

And in ignorance of the consequences,

A committed dodipoll;

A resolute seeker after fake knowledge and untruth,

A dedicated harbinger of future inanity,

And forever an arbiter of other people’s predilections.

Signed and witnessed this 17th day of June,
Twenty twenty.

MALAKI JUBILATION SNODGRASS

{ Citizen of this Parish and of Planet Earth }

TRUTH . . . A Haiku

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The Truth embellished

Becomes yet another Lie

Hold fast to the Truth

 

The Future

on Pexels.com

Photo by Markus Spiske temporausch.com

The future
will never be
as we envisage it.

That fact is a given
a constant
by which we will fall
if we do not recognise
its truth
and act accordingly.

Hope
and aspiration
may well prop up
the present,
but they
are not the answer
to that ultimate question –

‘What does the future
hold in store

for me?

for us?’