The Drop

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The trouble with telling the truth

is it’s merely a novelty joke,

and the people will come as far as the gasp

then they'll clap as you dance on the rope. 


🌷 (1)


◄ Grenfell raw

Scatterlings ►


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Wolfgar Miere

Wed 21st Jun 2017 07:51

Thanks Keith.


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keith jeffries

Tue 20th Jun 2017 17:37

David, This poem is as profound as it is brief. I need to go away and think about it. Thank you for this. Keith

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Wolfgar Miere

Tue 20th Jun 2017 14:25

Thanks Ray, Karen and Frances.


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Frances Macaulay Forde

Tue 20th Jun 2017 02:35

Profound, succinct and absolutely on point.
Well done, David.

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Wolfgar Miere

Mon 19th Jun 2017 23:54

I have seen, heard and read people calling for their Gods at this particular time.

I cannot imagine the constrictions of their minds that in such a time as this they call upon Gods to deliver them from human weakness, when it its plainly evident that it is men who require delivery from their enslavement to Gods.

Recently I have seen humanity rise above believe and faith, this is the real and glaring truth which has always existed yet men fear to recognize it, or even see it.

Those who dismiss this truth are the meek who will inherit an empty Kingdom, they will be very welcome to it.


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Karen Ankers

Mon 19th Jun 2017 23:51

Incredible powerful economy of words. Love "as far a the gasp"

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Mon 19th Jun 2017 21:15

Interestingly I have been reading about the history of torture David. The persecution of witches was a sordid and profitable affair for those empowered - your poem has a flavour of this twist to human nature and its exploitation and ascension. A nice tilt at scoundrels, it also personifies the squirming of fools and comics to my mind.


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Wolfgar Miere

Mon 19th Jun 2017 18:01

And the self appointed preachers, the unregulated saviors of souls pontificate and masturbate their ego's to climax, their vacuous promises of deliverance offered without evidence, and of course the susceptible drop to their knees in obedience.

Snake oil salesmen deserving of nothing less than a bullet.

They of course will be in the crowds throwing rotten apples, hiding behind their cowardly grasping hands, hoping you are still clasping yours.


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