What do you believe? I believe to see truth lived quietly and consistently is powerful. My father died like that. In trees we find tall truths deeper rooted than human folly. I believe in stakes that make us choose a path right, or left or denial. Denial comes back to haunt us in choice, again. I believe in money and class and opportunity because we pretend these things don’t matter. I must be Marxist. In part they do. At sunrise, I believe in God. Under stars, I breathe an awesome Universe. In front of a computer’s glare, as I click the news, I believe there is no benevolence, no God. What you sow, you reap. I like this as a concept. Also Qi. In the end, I believe I’m just little me. 9/12/12
A friend posed the question – and of course, I couldn’t resist fiddling some thoughts into poem.
Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys
Shining in Brightness
2 thoughts on “Near Liverpool Street under scaffolding”