Truth

Lies belay the truth

Replaces it with myth

That ripens into folklore

Truth adheres to nothing 

Heedlessly retreating 

Breaking into the tiniest of molecules

Floating noiselessly

Drifting further apart

Until time casts it out

And the universe replaces it with nothing

©kcasady2014

Dark Corners

Please don’t channel your mother

She’s not wanted here

At her sister’s funeral

We didn’t like her

Dead or alive

Please don’t channel your mother

Her spirit taints all it touches

Brings us down

Clouds our eulogies

Shows us where we come up short

Please don’t channel your mother

She speaks truth

Says things we don’t want to hear

Her presence sheds light into our dark corners

Please don’t channel your mother

Don’t let her out

Tell her to stay quiet

We do not wish to abandon our lies

©kcasady2014

Dung Beetle

Dear sir

Please tell me why you need a therapist

Perhaps too much

Too soon

There are the

Nuclear perks

Splendid

Sumptuous

Plentiful

Unforeseen and lovely

But alongside the

Inconvenient annoyances

Unwanted attention

Microscopic examination

Brooding over the impossible desire to accommodate

And the difficult decisions ahead

Stay or go

Fly to greater heights

Soar to extraordinary

Shedding veracity

Or remain unexpected

By means of unpredictable honesty

And idiosyncratic quirkiness

Hovering just above unusual

Well sir

God speed

May your journey be mindful

And your process abundant

Dotted with awkward rewards and startling revelations

May you dig like a dung beetle

Past your quivering exoskeleton

Laying fertile eggs in palpable tissue

Finally encircling truth

©kcasady2014