the residents of Rogueville loved listening to their bell ring out from the town’s highest tower, the church spire
but the bell had a history
it was a thing of mystery
it’s origin hotly debated
the bell was silver plated
over brass and steel
that mighty bell did peal
three times a day
calling people to pray
until the word got out
what the bell was about
a souvenir from a war
a symbol of the horror
so the town took down
their symbol of pride
sadly setting it aside
chocolate ice cream and fudge sprinkled with a strawberry glaze, reading books, watching movies, playing board games on boring days,
dancing under the light of the moon, swimming naked in a hidden lagoon, wearing a funny costume
becoming a parent, politician, or playwright, creating a website, swimming in eternity pools all night,
prizes for running, jumping, and winning at Jeopardy, traveling to memorable places like France and Normandy, flying in planes that only hold three,
riding camels and horses in an exotic land, witnessing Yellowstone National Park’s geysers firsthand, walking on Mali’s white sand
hiking through the jungles of Peru, riding in a canoe, and learning Spanish too,
going to sports events, eating cabbage after it ferments, and living in tents,
but there’s got to be more
on some distant shore
my soul cries out
what’s in your center?
an enlightening epiphany
discovering your inner core?
a place to safely explore?
the soul is your center
to your spirit
that follows a pathway
up a celestial stairway
but I wouldn’t know
I have a wayward soul
that wanders alone
seeking the center
of the universe
and it’s secrets
I still wonder why
I can never go home
no matter how hard I try
after a century the first thing I could see
was a replica of me staring with curiosity
we looked at one another
trying to discover
it didn’t take long
to understand what was wrong
when I blinked an eye
so did the other guy
and it became clear
I was looking up into a mirror
and there was no reason for fear
but when I stood up
I heard a hidden gear
instead of my heart
there was a moving part
instead of skin
I had something akin
that gleamed in the light
and gave me a fright
until I realized I was still alive
even if my body didn’t survive
he stood amidst the ruins of the city
a warrior raised with no pity
when no one was looking
a tear welled up in his eye
for all the men who had to die
she was as tough as could be
a corporate climber making money
but when no one was looking
she would cry
tired of being the bad “guy”
he was a professional fighter
who wanted to be a writer
when no one was looking
he proved he had what it took
and wrote a book
c’mon, let’s be real
who cares about trivial facts
that are supposed to be a big deal?
a Hollywood star has a baby
whose name fans say is crazy
the royal family visited a park
and the children thought it a lark
the latest study found
that marmots are proud
the trending activity
or political memes
with hateful themes?
Who cares what others do?
As long as they don’t hurt you?
or ruin your day
and take something away?
who cares about others
unless their brothers or mothers?
who cares about anything at all
however big and however small?
my earliest memory was a little voice
that told me I had a choice
I could pick good or bad
tell the truth or lie
and be happy or sad
I was free to decide
whether to be nice or snide
that little voice is still with me
and will be as far as I can foresee
Burnt sands cover the liescape stretching between truth and deceit buried deep in a person’s mind. A desert of deceit. Unhindered by any convention, yet still possessing a conscience that sometimes asks questions about morality and sensuality.
Falsehoods, like scorpions and snakes, strike swiftly in the seething sands of a liar’s mind whose mission is to deceive. The liar’s soul, burnt by dwelling in the bronzed wasteland of duplicity, is shriveled and crispy.
There are those who dwell in this sandy hell by choice. Content to wander dunes of deceit. Content to live a lie. Content to vilify. Souls that were born bone dry. For these nomads in society, I have no pity.
our society has phonies to the left and right
truth is shunned and kept out of the limelight
getting real in these chaotic times is no easy task
everyone in the country is hiding behind a mask
deciding what is right or wrong is a real chore
it’s difficult to know who to abhor or adore
getting real is becoming harder every day
because people worry about what to say
it takes confidence and purpose to get real
sometimes it also takes nerves of steel
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