The words came out in a rush
‘It’s been a long time,’ they said;
Standing chatting at the bus stop.
A synopsis of two Worlds, briefly exchanged;
The rocky tips of information stores below the surface
Wherein every human state is found,
And thoughts, and deeds, and fears and hopes
That surge in solitary waves,
Only to be dashed against the public weal
Where peer pressure’s ever busy pruning knife
Clips away the budding shoots of self-knowledge
As, listening to others, our best dissolves
To leave the worst more entrenched
In its runnels of misapplied reason.
Then there are the words written by others
To be sold in newspapers
To interpret or misinterpret a theme
To fit a theory, an agenda, a vested interest,
Affronting our inlaid views
Or pandering to established prejudices.
In some families every penny counts
And they rub shoulders, but briefly, on the streets
Unknowingly with deeper bank accounts,
All crossing and re-crossing life’s pitch
Where a homeless man sells copies of the ‘Issue’.
Where is enlightenment?
When everything around us is for gain.
And all the while the politicians pry open principles
While explorers pore over faded charts.
The momentary grouping stirs
With the sighting of a bus.

November 1998