Prosaic things



I take a walk with you
To open up a bit
I tell you sky shots are prosaic

You laugh at me
Because I snapped some
The other day

I tell you sometimes
I snap prosaic shots
For lack of any better

The truth is I am telling you
Prosaic things
Because I can’t tell you the truth


The prosaic image is by me

4 comments:

gaizabonts said...

does poetry reveal the truth?

Jules said...

What a great question...

"Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don't know you know." --Adrienne Rich

gaizabonts said...

so, your own truth then? a variation? an opinion?

Jules said...

I think poetry often spills the truth that you know deep inside but are afraid to admit, even to yourself. It's the truth that you'd rather not think about, but it won't let you avoid it. It troubles you somewhere deep inside, and you often start writing simply to get some sense of relief, not knowing yet what it is that bothers you precisely, but discovering it as you go, word by word. See, your heart knows the real you, but your mind is too slow to catch up, because it protects itself from the truth that is inconvenient or too revealing. So I think poetry is the truth that comes straight from the heart, unfiltered :)

 
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