Truth be told I don’t have many
Truths…that is
My beliefs have changed
Over the years
Not always for the better
According to some
Who hold their “truths” paramount.
I tell those people
“I am what you made me”
It’s been said that
I have no filters
Will say whatever runs
Screaming through my mind
My parry and thrust
Usually involves subtle
Quixotically imbued ideas
As I bear scars from battling windmills.
I have learned to
Question the question
Question the questioner
Question why they asked
That question
In that way
At that time
I also learned from my dogs
“sniff it, if it stinks
Don’t bother to chew on it”
I haven’t mastered the licking thing
But I do clean up after myself.
And what of old Joe Biden
And all the lies he’s hid’en
For it don’t matter much
With which side you are sid’en
They all seem out of touch
With the county they’re divid’en.
For the eagle needs both wings
The right and left both “feathered”
To face the honest facts
Of what the county’s weathered
While clinging to beliefs
To which their minds are tethered.
All the voices and their rants
Irreligious solemn chants
Bagels defending scones
Armies marching on i-phones
As they order Uber-eats
And never leave their seats.
Beware the idle surge
Of the cardboard bearing purge
Lest you suddenly fall prey
Think a thought you shouldn’t say
As you pass a shuttered church
Where you dare not go to pray.
What has this to do with Biden
Battling windmills with his pen
And the myriad of “writers”
Who make his windmills spin
Twirling in the distance
With no why, or where, or when.
John G. Lawless
©11/24/2022
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : PART X
IF you pull a long face
For ten straight nights starting today
You bet you'd look like Canada Bernache
Though fat chance like swan in Norway
But if you pull a very very long face
Your rivals might not like it in the Sea-Ay-Yeah
And might seek to shorten the nautical-mile face
To a right and proper mile-long face all in a day
Yet if you keep pulling that mile-long face
The wilds of the Siberian Goulag would you slay
After long lone nights the firing-squad to face
Notes from the Underground your mind mainstay
Then if you pull the lone long face
In Algerian quarries Who will your ransom pay
Thirty-thousand ducats El Manchot to brace
Battling windmills in Castillian Quixotic disarray
So if you must pull the longingly long face
Your chef-d'œuvre will-o'-the-wisp bright stay
Your day of glory on the Internet mere pittance
Think of all the great works slush piles overlay
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 5, 2019
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