Lets Have Some Truth Poem by Raymond Farrell

This afternoon
As I sat
Under the locust tree
I noticed two bugs
Struggling to possess
One small morsel of bread
Tumbling and rolling
Constantly in motion
I thought to myself
Life is not a snap shot
A posed photograph
Stiff and fixed in position
Or some air brushed image
Like the lies we see
In glossy magazines
If you are striving
To look like this
You will be disappointed
It is unattainable
Because it doesn't exist
Life is fuzzy, blurred
And out of focus
It can't be
Reduced to an equation
Or guided by what
Is discovered in a sterile lab
Where there is no love
Just white rats about to be sacrificed
And sparkling clean test tubes
With far too many people
Who think they know everything
And have been mistakenly
Put on a pedestle
By those who hope
They will find a cure
For what ails them
So they can go on
Breaking the rules
And abusing their bodies
Freely doing as they please
In service of the sin and addiction
To which they are enslaved
Merrily or unhappily
As the mood may be
Destroying themselves
And the ecology
Never mind about the gainsayers
Pay no attention
To those who know their creed
Chapter and verse
Yet let their neighbors
Go hungry and naked
Words, screw your words
Deeds, fruits, acts
These tell me
Who you really are
Quit constructing
Smokey holograms
In the thin air
Quit building castles
In the sky
Quit regurgitating
Some mythological rubbish
You read in a book
Quit wasting your time
Sitting and watching TV etc
And stop devouring the swill
The mass media is feeding you
This celluloid reality
Is as far removed
From reality
As the delusional
Ravings of the insane
Step back and
Give your head a shake
Tell us about
The reality you live
Your mundane banal existence
How insignificant you really are
The brick wall you butt your head against
The millstone about your neck
Your parched spirit
How your tongue
Cleaves to your jaw
For want of refreshment
In this wilderness
Of dried paltry inanites
Lay it out there
All of it
Lets have some truth
How can any of us
Move forward
And start cleaning up
This pig stye
If we refuse
To acknowledge
Where we're starting from
And don't want
To express on paper
How things really are! ! ! ! !