Tag Archives: perceptions of truth


Some dreams don’t matter

Beyond the skewed beauty of their inspiration

Maybe that’s why we don’t remember them

Like some midnight story

But catch fragments

When the light is just so


Or something

That brings us back to some impossibility

That made sense in the context of

Insensate dreaming

When surrender was a condition

Of being

Where veils become wings

Walls turn into doorways that give way

To freefall diving

Wind riding

And you are conscious of

Being there and not there

In that place where matter




David Trudel     © 2013



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Each moment moves in its own way

Fast as a stubbed toe signaling pain

Slow as a hard chair in a waiting room

Slippery as a half guarded look between me and you


Time is a contradiction

From its measured divides

Yet fluid enough for our mystery rides


For all of our clocks and calculations

It loops, soft pedals then rockets along

Dragging, flying and slipping away


Just when we think it’s unidirectional

A smell or a song brings us back to the past

And we’re right where we were a lifetime ago

Without ever moving an inch or an hour


Time, it seems

Answers to some other power



David Trudel    ©  2013



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There’s so much I’ll never know about you

I don’t even want to try

There’s so much I want to tell you about me

I don’t even want to try

It’s not so much about where we’ve been

Or what we’re running from

Received truth is never complete

Regardless of good intentions

Truth has to be experienced from the inside out

In the raw immediacy of the moment

Even then you’ll have your perspective

I’ll have mine

An intersection of two truths

Found in a shared look

Two paths to the same place

For now



David Trudel  ©  2013




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I need epiphanies to blindside me

Not arriving ordered and packaged

But drenching me

Like cold water from a bucket that was carefully balanced

On top of a door that hits unexpectedly

I like getting tripped up by revelations

That come shockwrapped

Because the best truths aren’t simple or obvious

Or if they are

Its only clear after the camouflage is removed

What the truth is

I need to step on metaphorical landmines

Experience the pain of having old preconceptions ripped away

Because an epiphany should be like that

Like Saul becoming Paul on the Damascus road

There should always be some towering warrior angel

With a poised sword and the word of god on their lips

To mark moments where one truth is crucified

Then reborn as another

Before ascending into eternity



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





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Literalists find metaphors uncomfortable

Challenging mismatched images

Unable to see nuanced shimmers of halfway truths

Sadly frustrated by surreal representations of imagination

Hyperrealism is what they crave

Black and white

Honest transparency


Mirrored reflections of reality


But my reality is skewed and oblique

My mirrors were stolen from a midway’s funhouse

Making the fat thin and the thin fat

What you see is not what you get

And it turns out that life is so complex



Weird, even

So in order to sneak up on a truth or a perception

A little gentle deception is a benediction

Bending life’s reflections around dark corners

Twisting truth into a Möbius strip

A single edge and a lonely surface

Masquerading as infinity



David Trudel  © 2013



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