Susan Bassler Pickford
Member-at-large (Maine)
Middle English “trewthe,” from Old English “trēowth” — fidelity;
akin to Old English “trēowe” — faithful — before 1100s
“You can’t handle the truth,” screams Jack Nicholson in a Few Good Men
“Few people can,” I retort in a whisper
The truth is massaged, covered up, dressed down
Like a tired old body
We see it through steely eyes, red eyes and macular distortion
We bend the truth
We torture the truth
And it is
Often camouflaged
Very rarely is the truth
Open, straightforward as a book, or transparent as glass
Because Jack is right
We just can’t handle the bare, unvarnished truth
The faithfulness of facts with reality
The truth that stings, abrades, hurts
The truth that rips the scab off the skin
Exposing the raw tissue of reality
Your poem is a beautiful, unvarnished metaphor.
Wow! Powerfully said and I appreciate the imagery. And you and Jack are right….many folks can’t handle the unabashed truth. They’re too comfortable in some sort of illusion. Thanks for sharing your work.
This is such a ‘Truthful Poem’–if only everyone would agree as I do with the author! Job well done!
Susan Pickford sees and speaks the truth.She is a poet and a hero. It is difficult to live in this society and be Diogenes, the truth seeker. Bravo to poet Pickford!
Mary Joan Meagher, Minnesota Branch.
Wow! That poem itself is raw, excellent, but somewhat depressing.
That’s true.