just him
I don't know when
but there was a point in time
where I stopped lying about
having no one else.
Poems on the topic: truth
Poems on the topic “truth” on Poets.by.
Adept
Hiding was something I remained good at
For years afterwards, I would hide
From the things that I feared
And from the things that feared me
My spirit was on lockdown, and I
Kept the parts of myself hidden
That I was terrified the world would see
But truth is a flower that takes root quite well
In the darkest of places, and with the
Virtue of patience it waits for
The gleam of someone's eye
To make it bloom
You cannot smother my truth without my consent
And you
Quite plainly
No longer
* * *
Now I will tell you a secret. I am nodding my head.
Now I will tell you the truth. I am stretching.
Now I will tell you something that can't be questioned.
I am waving my hands.
Now I will tell you the facts. I am moving my leg.
Now I will tell you something you don't know. I am
changing position.
Now I will tell you something I'd swear to. I am turning
around.
Now I will tell you something there's no reason to doubt.
I am bending over.
Now I will tell you something that can be proven. I am
raising my eyes.
Now I will tell you something there is no denying. I am
folding my arms.
Now I will tell you something he says is so. I am shrugging
your secret
If you say you don't have any secret
You really have the real one.
Its even secret from yourself.
You are that secretive that you never told yourself.
For Once, Then, Something
Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
Me myself in the summer heaven godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths--and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
Forty-Four
One such night,
we said, will do
to make us not
have lived in vain:
but these old words,
so many times
repeated, surprised us —
being true.
Hokku 22
Truth, like moon of day and night,
Ever perfect, all silent and gold.
Shed thy light over sorrow.
Make me regain my rest and song.
The Coming of Wisdom with Time
Though leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither into the truth.
Wisdom
When I have ceased to break my wings
Against the faultiness of things,
And learned that compromises wait
Behind each hardly opened gate,
When I can look Life in the eyes,
Grown calm and very coldly wise,
Life will have given me the Truth,
And taken in exchange--my youth.
Songs About Life and Brighter Things Yet XLVIII
I seldom mean a single thing
I say, or (as the phrase goes) sing;
But if it sounds both bright and true,
I like to think I think I do.
James Wetherell
We never half believed the stuff
They told about James Wetherell;
We always liked him well enough,
And always tried to use him well;
But now some things have come to light,
And James has vanished from our view, --
There is n't very much to write,
There is n't very much to do.
J. Milton Miles
Whenever the Presbyterian bell
Was rung by itself, I knew it as the Presbyterian bell.
But when its sound was mingled
With the sound of the Methodist, the Christian,
The Baptist and the Congregational,
I could no longer distinguish it,
Nor any one from the others, or either of them.
And as many voices called to me in life
Marvel not that I could not tell
The true from the false,
Nor even, at last, the voice that
I should have known.
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