What price the truth, is truth now dead
that leaders spout – thoughtlessly said
unfiltered guff from mouths uncouth
distract the people – the poorly led
from what’s the real that will be rued
is truth now dead, what price the truth…
© Andrew Wilson, 2024
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Laura Bloomsbury in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft invites us to write a “Sparrowlet” an invented stanzaic form created by Kathrine Sparrow.
A stanza of 6 lines – any number of stanzas permitted
8 syllables per line
end rhyme scheme BbabaA (often written in iambic tetrameter.)
L1 and L6 of each stanza is written in 2 hemistichs i.e the line split in two, with commas
The 2 halves of L1 are inverted but repeated exactly as a refrain in L6.
For example:
L1 In winter’s cold, as moonlight beams
L6 as moonlight beams, in winter’s cold.
N.B. The 2 halves of L1 contain and set the a and b rhymes thus:
RRRA, RRRB
xxxxxxxb
xxxxxxxa
xxxxxxxb
xxxxxxxa
RRRB, RRRA
a dire commentary in your sparrowlet but by definition truth can never die though common sense seems to die out sometimes
plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose
You are right – technically it should have been truthfulness which is on life support but that word just eats up too many syllables…
Your poem is perfect, Andrew! I fear we will all suffer the toll of truth’s death.
Yvette M Calleiro 🙂
http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
Plain speaking, so truthful and yet so depressing, Andrew.
Indeed Kim, but at least it was short and I did write a longer and lighter poem last time…
Ah, yes. Perfectly proffered, a cautionary warning. Sadly many ignore.
Thanks for leaving the [lush] comment for me.
Thanks Helen, it’s not a poem one can enjoy but thanks for that anyway…
Andrew, this is a mission statement and an epitaph as well. I don’t think we will learn. I’d like to have hope, but…
I think that disinformation (lies) have been building longer than we realised and who knows how truth can be restored when so many read nothing moderated or fact check, and as for building back the slash and burn of Musk/Trump…
Truth has become just whatever someone perceive or believe I fear.
Soviet main newspaper was called Правда – Pravda meaning truth.
Well that newspaper has surely gone by the board Björn…
It’s in there somewhere.
We can only hope to find it Melissa…
That is the sad truth of our times, Andrew. We have to invoke truth again and again, lest lies lead us astray.
Indeed Punam – thanks for commenting…
Truth has branched out into other meanings.
As Laura said, truth never dies, but truthfulness sure seems to be in short supply…
Well done, Andrew. The sparrowlet is well-fitted to your theme in your hands.