Words are but the dripping of leaking minds,
and what pictures they evoke,
often far from truth, elicit worlds of reality in waiting;
and we must fathom their meanings,
delve into ruse and purpose and intentions,
to render our own reality within context.
One can see those words drip,
as if salivated from a eager thin-lipped mouth,
intentions red-flagged in a ruse of manipulation;
and I watch the flow of thoughts
that ride the back of lies, to sway minds into agreement,
and those reverent smiles that plead trust, like barbed wire.
Conversations are often a war of strike and parry,
placate and coerce till minds rescind,
and victors smooth the path to conciliatory amends,
a slight of hand bending of will,
often subtle and by choice, instilled without qualm,
the guile of an adept voice.
What I see too much offends my soul,
as honesty is melted down by purpose,
and words become the weapons of aspiration,
at the cost of anyone in the way,
and so I seek in words, the honesty I would expect,
when conversation is a meaningful expression,
without lies or deceit.
Tony DeLorger © 2016