The Terrible Speed Of Missing The Moment

The world spins
On instant access

Where secrets
In the second of their conception

And news
Burns like star-fall

And dies as quickly
To the black
And old.

And time,
Shackled workhorse
To the mind

As never should
It fall precious
Past uncaring hand
And fingers barely touching,

Itself to panting
Wreck and ruin:
All of what it’s worth
In a flash
Of fast food
And capitalism,
Even before
Its moment
Of occurrence
And physical birth.

The future
To the past
But heart bypassed
So as not to happen
In the now
At all.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015



Whether tended rose, vine
Or weed in bramble entanglement
We yearn the same dream:
And equal upon the earth
Take sustenance
In sunshine on the cheek,
Leaf or flowering petal.
We are the same in love
And level in our needs.
We are not different in our beings
Or our brotherhood.
We are one under the sun
And one in our differing.
We are together in our reach
For the sky blue expansion
Of life’s meaning.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

A Kindness

To the damaged and oppressed
It lays its gentle hand, its gentle
breath, and asks for nothing.

To the wronged and dispossessed
It understands with a kindly hand
And be’s there without a sound.

To the despised and those dismissed
It offers its warm hand to temper
Loneliness, washing the mind clean

And bringing all to the light of wholeness.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.