Caught Up

I have finally caught up with even today’s poetry prompt. My poetry remains rooted in the political. It feels wrong to do otherwise, to be honest. Perhaps this is whay I’m not writing prose – although most of my novels have a political thread running through them, they’re not explicitly political, and I’m not sure I have any energy left to create something as overtly political as The Ragged-Trousered Philanthropists which I’m reading right now.

Addiction

Speak lies for long enough
To the people you have deliberately
Not educated, and they will
Believe you are speaking the truth.

Fallacy becomes the new faith,
And spreads by word of mouth,
Say-so, and indoctrination. The
People become addicted to the lie.

This is the opium trafficked for
Free by the state, by the President
Of what was the United States of
America. Prognosis: blindness.

R 23/03/2025 15:01

progenitor

provenance
bird or egg
god or big bang
silence or noise
the collapse of nothing
made her first of all

her translucence
belies her billions of years
her beauty the passage
of unmeasurable time
she never rests
never in one place
never still

what she made
she holds and despairs
of free will gone
complacent she balls
her fists into fire
bolts of thunder and
floods for the ignorant

what she will shape
next she doesn’t know
a new world empty
of humans

R 23/02/2025 18:23