Tag Archives: paradigms


My Cain and Abel are my words

Battling for the give and take of perception

They circle themselves

Poised to lash out or swiftly defend

I have used words as shields

I have hidden behind their illusion

Used the ambiguity of meaning and intent

To prevaricate and dissemble

Not from deviousness

But unconsciously

Or to mask my own fear and insecurity


Yet I find great joy in words

They are my playground and delight

Dancing meaning into dialogue

Reinventing clouds into rain

Or mining seams of elemental truth

I turn words into bouquets

Or scrawl them on signposts and sidewalks

Like some mad tagger

Illuminating the gray sameness

Of blank canvasses at midnight


Eventually the words turn me

Into a question

That I cannot answer

Feeling walled in

By the discreteness of each definition

Stamped out by our shared accommodation of

Conventional language

Which isn’t drunken shouts of expense account delegates

But a common delusion

That we can trade perceptions

Without trading our inner selves

Uncentering from each private strand of individuality

Into some union of sameness

Believing that words can be shared with exactitude

Forgetting the magical glow of transitory sunsets

And how impossible it is to grasp that moment

Let alone use words to describe the indescribable



David Trudel    © 2013



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I find my world disordered and undone

Reference points no longer apply the way they did

Rules have been stretched and broken so often

They have been shadowed into dim memory

So I recalibrate my moral compass

Against those of the political and corporate elite

I recalculate the depths of horror to vicariously endure

Against the streets of Mogadishu and Damascus

I index my feelings and emotions to this world

That serves up extremes of good and evil

Punctuated by interminable waiting

But in order to find to what degree the Nth is today

I need to baseline truth against beauty

Measure the depth of midnight when you’re all alone

Figure out what new shock deserves a scream or a tear

In this world of today

Where so much cruelty is served up on the table of commerce

Where miracles are commonplace even as sins proliferate

In this world that contains both heaven and hell

Whose borders shift and overlap

Leaving those of us who play the margins in a dim frontier

Unsure of limits and definitions and meanings

Constantly recalibrating perceptions



David Trudel    ©  2013



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Which thread is the one to worry loose

Then to pull until it all unravels

This fabric called life but meaning the familiar way

What we accept as ordinary

Even as we rationalize insanity

And trade hollow promises for forlorn hope

Surrendering time and trouble for bread and fishes

Giving up our own volition for the cold comfort of diversion

Misdirections and distractions meant to cloud and obfuscate

While we allow the pristine walls around our hearts to be tagged

With epithets of rancid hate scrawled past midnight by the delirious crowd

Whipped into a frenzy by the rhetoric of false prophets

Spewing fire and brimstone fears

Barking with bared teeth to corral us all

Or nip at our exposed flanks and heels to send us into the feedlot chute

Where we’ll be nailed and if you aren’t cross

Then you don’t understand the sacrifice

That we are all making by attrition and submission

To the nightmare dream of unholy fences

That perverts the promise of paradise

Into ordinary insanity that we call reality

So find a loose thread on the straitjacket to pull

Give it a yank and lets watch everything unspool



David Trudel  ©  2013





Filed under Poetry


Cultural forces normalize

Create zeitgeist

Spirit time

Paradigms that channel thoughts down passageways carved over millennia

Ordering our ideas into binary sets of good or bad

Creating standard subjectivity and judgmental negativity

What we like

What we don’t like

Standards of beauty

Behavioral expectations

Perceived handles to lift reality

Yet so often these devices, crude constructs of mob mentality


Fail to take into account random chance

Fail to recognize evidence contrary to expectations

Cultural norms seep into our consciousness

Making us lazy as we take refuge in the safety of numbers

Dumbing us down

From the real geniuses

Who created the first civilizations

Who didn’t rely on normal

Since there wasn’t any

That would come later

At first, at the beginning

There were no shortcuts for the neural pathways

Each moment was a discovery and a delight

Each observation adding to analysis and evaluation

Creating patterns, not following them

Yet we cling to the illusion that we’re getting smarter

Even as we keep getting farther from the truth

David Trudel   ©  2012


Filed under Poetry