Real men eat quiche, (love peace).
Gorbachev, Botha, Nelson Mandela,
Hume, Adams and David Trimble, for peace
sake would risk it all in one great gamble.
In these sad times others choose war, midgets
becoming mighty men in their own eyes
distracting their own with blatant lies.
Leaning hard until an old neighbour falls
to bully and bluster is all they know,
proving to themselves they have big balls.
They always lie to us
They always lie to us.
When they proclaim they are
telling the truth
they act as if this were
virtue on their part,
rather than a sacred duty.
They always lie to us,
the wars never end
by Christmas,
there were no weapons of
mass destruction
and which is it,
that more of theirs die
than the fewer of ours,
or that fewer of ours die
than the more of theirs?
They always lie to us,
the failing fail safes
are never going to hold,
situations are always
worse than they proclaim.
They always lie to us.
Drip feeding us morsels,
indecipherable
tit bits of truth
is also a form of lying.
They always lie to us,
so much so
that it is no longer
a source of sadness,
instead,
the sadness lies
in how often we
forget,
how seldom we
remember,
in our ever and always
believing,
not realising that
they always lie to us.
This was published as part of Kilkenny Library Poets on Board scheme for January 2012
