Saturday, February 23, 2013


I don't normally write poetry  but I was smoking my morning ciggy and this sort of popped into my mind.


My innocence lost 
Not the innocence of youth
But the innocence of divine and certain truth

Connections abound to knowledge and facts
But the meaning of life and certainty of why is just beyond view
I struggle, buffeted by the winds from the voices of those who certain of their view 
shout into the night, This is the truth!

But just below the cacophony of fools i hear the sweetest of sounds, i hear the echos of truth. 
If only the voices of those so certain could stop for just a moment. 

Uncertain of its source I search in blindness
for those that might stop and listen
and help me find it.