Truth-less Time

These pictures are worth taking
-down from the walls
worth replacing with empty frames,
plaster surrealism in window panes
and fill art galleries with empty frames,
they'll marvel at the irony.

Paint this blank canvas with
-bohemian profundity
astound at a distance and stroke your beard,
content; self-labelled as 'intelligently weird',
aiming to escape all that could possibly be feared,
we'll bow to a truth-less time.

All timeless truths are captured
in albums of nostalgia.
But at least they re somewhere, breathing,
frustrated by the pages they are trapped between.

****

I cannot breathe this in;
-your insipid empty exhalation,
there is no substance to your solution
no life in this pollution,
concentric circles of ablution
map repetitive paths.

The earth is confused yet contented
-with immanent destruction,
how can this be? explain!
art is mingled with the need to fein
interest in all but achieving pain,
for we must look enlightened.

A timeless truth is not yet asphyxiated,
lying in wait for a crease in the pages,
a crack in the shell,
to purify stagnancy from a truth-less time.

Written Feb 2011.

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