I wonder if it is even possible
for any one person
to tell the whole Truth,
While yet speaking nothing but the Truth,
defined and experienced to date,
so help me Gods and Goddesses,
mountains and rivers,
Earth's systemic regenerative voices
The whole Truth
explicitly mentioning oppositional not truths
and further refining as yet
not experienced counter-realities
imagined appositional co-defining Truths
equivalent to undefining not
not double-binding
co-refining win/win Truth
bicamerally felt and thought
Which might be a possible way
to retell WholeEarth's ecosystemic Truth,
but I imagine only S/he
could definitively reply
in Golden Rule
healthy democratic Truth.
I wonder if it is integrally possible
to speak and actively listen
for WholeEarth's win/win
health wealthiest
resilient Truth
Co-arising vast ecosystemic Presence
and ego-holistic Humility,
especially about my autonomous capacity
to speak timeless WholeEarth
GreenCommunion Truth
as Sacred Beauty.
A self being is strong to that extent to which that being lies near the whole truth
The Whole Truth & Nothing But the Truth
(If I Made a Movie)
It’s the movies that I love a lot,
and the truth is, if I had a shot
at making a movie,
it sure would be groovy
and have a magnificent plot!
Of trivial humor I’m wary.
Not a Curly, a Moe or a Larry
would be in my show,
and just so you know,
MY movie would be good and scary!
It wouldn’t be all blood and gore.
For me, real suspense is much more.
Cheap effects you’d not see,
and the genre would be
of psychological horror.
I don’t have all the details worked out,
but if homicide it were about,
no typical killer
would be in my thriller,
and he might even be a boy scout!
My movie would not have to be
about death necessarily.
Inner conflicts of the
main characters and a
big twist is what I’d guarantee!
Written for PD's Truth or Dare Contest
By Andrea Dietrich
(Good grief, I can't even find a category for this
poem, such as MOVIES. I wish Soup gave more choices!)
Truth
some claim,
is never,never
absolute;
Truth
they loudly proclaim
is absolutely
relative;
Such
an obvious truth
fundamental,not to be
denied;
Such
a majority view,
it seems ,is self-evidently
absolute!
He turned into a rooster, right there before my eyes
His arms became plump chicken wings, imagine my surprise
His chest puffed out and swelled with pride his back a feathered thatch
His scruffy brogues were cast aside, as he began to scratch.
He started pecking with his nose, his neck shot back and forth
And then he started crowing, with his head adjusted north.
Running round in circles I thought he’d have a fit
and that was why I grabbed him, cause I thought he’d never quit
That was when he started flapping, I thought he’d never stop
To calm him down I used my strength to stuff him in a pot
In my haste to quiet him down It must have slipped my mind
That I’d put some veg and tatties in, soup helps me to unwind
The fire was lit by accident, But how I have no clue
And that was when I realised, My George was in a stew
I’d hoped through chicken farming, a tighter bond we’d forge
and that’s the truth your Honour, why I ate my husband George.
Have you ever met those people
Who just can't tell the truth?
To figure out what's right or wrong
You gotta be some kinda sleuth
Their lies always seem to get bigger
The more they tell it the more it grows
Trying to decipher what's fact or fiction
Well, nobody hardly ever knows
And let me tell you, I've heard some doozies
Especially about the one that got away
The first time they tell it, it's as long as your arm
But it grew three sizes the next day
And then there's those, who forget what they told
And make up a whole new tale
All you can do, is nod your head
And throw in an occasional, "Oh well"
One man even told me he two months to live
He had a hole in his brain, the size of a crater
Well, come to find out, he was almost right
He had a wreck, and died twenty years later
Then there's those, you know to be liars
They say, "If I'm lying may lightning strike me dead"
That's when I run for shelter
And look for something to cover my head
Lying will always lead to trouble
And the truth will set you free
For a liar never prospers
So please don't lie to me
Let it be as such,
my long cut tear,
Do not dramatize the wound
and put it as an exhibit.
No attempt should be made to mask the fated pain.
Wait for me at the end of the road.
Not for me,
I grieve for the fallen trees, tall glory of past.
It was a question of survival.
Survival of the best, which could not continue.
There is reversal of equatization.
Man has become superior to god.
They are using Him, I am afraid.
Urging him to commit a natural suicide,
a logical ending of a patriarch.
The stage is set for a mass mourning.
A big conspiracy had been brewing
in prisoner’s cell,
which had been in full possession of
whole truth.
SATISH VERMA
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