Hemingway’s Conversation

 

Hemingway contemplates
light,
In a new found darkness.
He wonders when it will
End,
And asks Cohen:
“Do you know?”
“How was it when you left?”
Cohen answers
No – it was so, so,
It hadn’t been that dark
Since 1939,
But the light
Eventually will come.
And we may see ourselves again perhaps In ways,
we haven’t seen,
Since very long ago.

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Truths

Truths

I hope to have
written some truths.

Lies are so easy.
To pen

To be able
To record some truths
in the future !
That is difficult;

Lies are so obvious,
Not always cheap.

Easy, convenient,
Unexamined conclusions
Of the times.

Truths are not always so obvious.
Some take years
To ascertain
In the dark.
That’s why the best poets
Age, get so old,
With deep lines
in their foreheads,
or die so very young.
Some truths are never
to be,
cannot be,
known;
And only are present
in vague outlines,
In muted colours
Of the partly blind;
Only lightly,
Randomly,
Occasionally,
touched on.