Poet Republik-Joanna Fuhrman
This month’s featured poet, Joanna Fuhrman asks, among other questions “the meaning of the space/between the prongs of the unplugged iron?” What shouldn’t we allow in? In this age of surveillance and sophistry, what remains sacred? What profane? Does one bleed into another? Is all the world a stage? and if so, then must we let everyone watch? Where do we locate the real? Post a poem, video or story that reveals that every elusive commodity: truth. Yeah, I know you’re thinking about John Keats right now, we know what he has to say about truth, but what do YOU, tiny human giant, have to say?
The World is Burning, But Everyone Needs Sleep
Why bother to lift the cloud’s galvanic veil?
Why remove the halo contact lenses
from my solid white eyes?
If so many crows like to watch the blurred
screen of my face, how can I be expected
to understand the truth of the obstinate
fire hydrant? The meaning of the space
between the prongs of the unplugged iron?
Maybe it’s enough to bask in the shadows
of the thighs of the monumental icon,
to rescue dented souls with the tongs
of a sparkling imagination, to stretch out,
on the floor of our carpeted basement,
counting the heads of our ceramic turtle collection
until the meditative gesture
becomes you, and you it.
So don’t ask me to sleep on the other side
of the bottled-water bed.
Don’t tell me to flick on the light, and stop
drinking cocoa from the Van Gogh
museum’s ear-shaped mug.
Yes, there may be a river of tomato-juice blood
surrounding our neoclassical-pueblo duplex condo,
but that doesn’t mean the blinds should be open,
that everything should be allowed in.
When we are young, our world is built on lies
Santa will come if you are a good girl
The Tooth Fairy will surly pay you a visit tonight
Oh no, this shot won’t hurt
Some we can see straight through,
But these lies are made to make the world magical
They make the world bearable
When we grow up we want the truth
We want honesty
Or so we say
And in fact we do want truth
It’s just not always the truth the world can give us
We construct a world to our liking
Play the part so perfectly
Tying to make every fiber of our beings believe
Silencing the ever questioning nuisances within
We become the façade
And except everyone to follow the script
We were taught to live in a world of make believe
We yearn for our desires to ring true
We need the made up perfect world in our head
So we take the lies, the half-truths and the uncertainty
If it lets us play make-believe a little longer
When they become too much to ignore
Or someone shoves them in our face
We are angered because our world is shattered
Like the fragile looking glass it was
And we scream we wanted honesty and truth
When in fact we wanted fiction
D. Ramirez
She had the perfect life; loving parents, a sister, roof over her head and food on the table.
Like any other teen ager, she falls in love, and creates a new life. At nineteen she returns home with her bundle of joy.
Who knew that six months later those loving and accepting parents would now look upon her from up in the sky.
What a surprise life brought across her. She could now be a broken woman. But that is not for what her parents raised her.
Individuals “picture-perfect” lives are influenced by great sophistry. Sophistry which is eventually stripped by one’s own reality as dishonesties do not last forever and sooner or later become undressed. Many individuals who are dishonest to others are being dishonest to themselves to begin with. In my opinion, family is and should remain sacred in every individual’s existence since family is the core element of any individual’s success. So, why bother to uncover the already uncovered. In other words, why try to look for outside support when the best support comes from home.
Bound by silence, my mind a cell.
Blinded, deafened- can’t hear the bell.
The bell that sounds freedom to speak
My blinded eyes struggle to peak
Into the land of harmony-
A place where darkness cannot be.
For spoken word brings to the light
The whispered wrongs hidden by night.
So when I speak what I believe,
I see the world I can retrieve.
A world of goodness and knowledge;
A world with truth at every edge.
It’s in this world I wish to live,
And so I write the truth I give.
-AlyxTighe3
The Truth Of Life
by Atish Home Chowdhury
Never thought of life too easy,
No I mean it is too busy.
Not much time to think and do something new,
people who think the same are very few.
Righteous paths once followed,
The bitter pill one has swallowed,
Truth always hurts,
But not the pure soul.
Accept the truth as it is there,
With not much fear.
Today or tomorrow,
Everyone has to accept the same,
So being truthful to one and all,
should be every person’s aim.
Truth never makes any one sad,
But it purifies the soul!
What does ‘truth’ mean?
Is it a lack of lies
or is it honesty
Is it laying yourself bare to the world
letting them judge you
or not judge you
as they see fit
Is ‘truth’ something we seek
or do we run from it fearing
what it may reveal
about others…
about ourselves
Is my truth the same as yours
or do our truths differ
in some fundamental way
Will your truth ‘set you free’
or will it imprison you
Will my truth shield you from pain
or cause you to ache from its sting
Will a lack of truth help you sleep easier
or keep you up at night wondering if
what they said/didn’t say will be the thing
which breaks you
Will the truth enlighten us
showing the way
bringing inevitable closer…
I deal with truth everyday as do we all. It often feels like a non emotion or given much thought. We all want truth. My children deserve the truth. From everything around us that seems broken, from politics to our courageous miitary. To all school goers public and private. Our churches the leadership around us in our counties. Truth is needed more so now than ever before. For all backgrounds and family configurations.Truth helps in guidence of a decision, right from wrong on a deep consciousness level. That definition to have awarness by the mind of itself plus the world emerges from the operations of our brain. Living life to help others to be any age including your fifties taking classes and educating yourself to be that one more knowledgable adult making a difference in this world. Truth of leaving your last child through much life adversity at her university. The truth found inherself knowing a plan sticking to it not budging. Falling behind to make sure he/she has the tools to struggle in this world.Truth and or trusting your Military children are well when deployed simultaneously.Truth when a hurricane,tornado and medical surgeries are needed home and away from home.That the truth known to some comforts, guided and lessons are learned by politicians, the public our religions. You can consume yourself with the truth and move forward each day. From your heart, mind and deep in your soul. It is that powerful including the strenghth to learn from it.
The aged photo lays cracked and dulled from time. Curled and separated at the square corners;
A smiling mother
A full-chested proud father holding an ebullient four year old squirming to get down.
His arm rests at his wife’s generous hip while her emaciated breast presses against the soft flannel shirt covering an abdomen of muscle and sinew.
A snapshot of a waterfall rushing towards its base destination, slowly sculpting a future of a hollowed crevice never to be seen.
The dry terrain in the photo almost wafts at the images feet. The desolate void of the background concentrates her eye once again to the laughing child, head thrown back in unmindful joy.
A photo found long after the grip on the mother’s hip left black drops of blood in the crevice of marriage
and the strength of the man’s abdomen drowns a sullen child in the waterfall’s abyss.
The viewer recalls the photo in her mind’s eye never to believe in what she sees and believing in her truth.
Why is our world full of sorrow? So much pain and suffering
With women and children begging for money on the street
but people choose to pass them. This world is full of people
who do not care for others but only for themselves
We must see each other as one color and help those in need
If we choose to ignore, this world will never recover.
As the sun begins to rise
As the roosters begin their song
The masks begin to come on
Is it real? or is it fake?
As the layers begin to unravel
Like an onion begging to be peeled
Does anyone even know what is real?
With fake posts and stretched truths
Like a mime pulling a rope
Round of applause this is the show
Like the sun piercing the clouds
Will the truth be revealed?
Or will it remain hidden in the clouds?
Is it sacred if it makes life harder?
Is it good if it makes things worse?
Is it precious if it hurts?
She asked me if she looked pretty, I said “no.”
She wouldn’t talk to me for weeks.
He asked if everything would be okay, I told him, “maybe”
He walked away, head down, looking at the ground.
They asked me if I finished my homework, I sighed, “I didn’t”
We fought for hours.
When asked if the dinner was good, I replied, “yes.”
I became their favorite.
When asked if a dress made her look fat, I answered, “no.”
We cuddled for the night.
When asked if there was an afterlife, I exclaimed, “Absolutely”
They smiled and sang all day.
Should truth be revealed if it hurts?
Should lies be told it make us smile?
Should promises be made if they only last a while?
The Truth In You
I seek the truth in you
The weak lie is not you
So speak up, yes you
The truth hurts but it works
The truth simplifies and dignifies
The truth soothes preserving your youth
I ask the truth of you
Cry now, take a tissue
So speak up, yes you
The truth signifies and modifies
The truth is within and the best way to begin
The truth is a good start especially for sweethearts
I need the truth of you
Simply choose your venue
So speak up, yes you
The truth to any degree
Is a starting point to be free
Just like one and two make three
So speak up, yes you
If you agree
-Sylvia Chidi
Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car,
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?
Everyone says life is easy
but its because they haven’t lived in mine.
The world has a lot to offer
but if you face it with your arms crossed it will whirl you in.
People come and go in our lives
and pass like a summer breeze.
Some stop by to smell the flowers
others stay long enough to pick them.
The people who make a difference
are the ones who stop and plant the flowers in our lives.
Life is a daily challenge and we must face it like warriors.
The more prepare we are for the battle
the more victorious we will be!
Well-being
my mind is filled with dreams and thoughts
things that will never happen ever
things that my teachers and employers taught
to try and make me clever
things I love but also what I hate
imagining a beautiful first date
my mind is filled with beautiful things
like world peace and my future wedding ring
I hate the fact that I’m always stuck in the clouds
but for me
it’s always the best place to be
I don’t know what it is to lie
Jeans have never made anyone look fat
The dog really did eat my homework
The tire on my car really went flat
I swear I was studying with my friends,
Not drinking beer and smoking pot
The only time I lied
was in bed, when I had that bug
Yes, it was a coincidence
there was an exam that day
My mother has never cooked a bad meal
My father has never told a bad joke
I stand by all my choices
I really do love myself
Lately I’ve been tough to reach. I spend a lot of time on my own. Sometimes I feel so depressed, I can’t seem to get out of this slump. A lot of things are hard to swallow: losing a loved one, heartbreak, lonliness. All these things can get to someone but one cannot let others say you are not beautuiful. Maybe we should trade shoes to see what it is like to be you or me and see our struggles through eachothers eyes.
This poem makes me reflect on things that have happen in the past. It makes me feel that some times in the moment of not knowing what to do things are crystal clear but their is always something that makes t difficult to face reality.