poem of the day September 18

Take long words

for what they are

Just words easily said

Even easier sold

whether true or not

How does one know

the real tongue from forked tongues?

We are all predisposed

in our own filtered desires

Our own propaganda 

dancing like fancy wheels

in balls of rational irrational contradictions

I fear within this shear of madness

anything is possible

Why just yesterday 

I swear I heard about a school

of peaceful philosophers 

about to plunder a small town