Honesty is not enough ….
Honesty doesn’t know everything.
Faith is not enough ….
Faith doesn’t know anything.
Power is not enough ….
Power doesn’t bring wisdom.
Wisdom is not enough ….
Wisdom doesn’t bring power.
Language is not enough ….
Language doesn’t say everything.
Poetry is not enough ….
Poetry is the language of everything
still unsaid.


Permit me to introduce my timeworn self.
I am known as Poetry – actually, that’s my pen name.
You may call me The Art-ful Codger.
Poetry is an art, is it not?
And art is reality once removed ….
Much like myth and religion, born of imagination.
Like the stuff Bogie imagined dreams are made of ….
And nightmares, the stuff corrupted dreams become.
Such as, someone once dreamt God is an all-loving Father.
That fantasy spread like a disease passed on since time immemorial.
Speaking of which, Father, why did you create disease?
Would a true loving father do that to his children?
Why have you remained removed from this reality of your making?
Your art, this creation, smells too spoiled to be a dream.
So deliver us, not from evil, but from denied dreams.
Death will deliver us from evil soon enough.


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