The Listener

Lies, lies, listen: lies

are told by truth-tellers

who forget their lines,

 

Forget sincerity; tell us,

who listen; hope to find

humanity. The cave dwellers

 

Invented the past - blind -

on stone with oxides,

of prey animals (unsigned).

 

Millennial time hides

alienation, estrangement

as did the Medieval scribes,

 

While lying through agent,

teeth and quill (suffering

serious abasement).

 

Do not believe the ring

of truth-tellers. Smile

silently, avoid their sting:

 

For those who write while

their forked pen scratches

plead excuse, disguise the bile.

 

"Oh, the ink was bad, the quill it pinches;

the vellum's as defective

as the day is dark, and the rain lashes."

 

A wise man once predicted,

with a touch of soft invective:

“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”

 

Chris Hubbard

2020