Just On This Side

When I wake in the morning,
I have to remind myself
Who I am, what I'm doing;
Torn between them and myself.

Like the brown sky beneath my feet;
Like a thief in broad daylight, who came when expected;
Like everything else that is just not right, in a world of clichés...

I am doing a handstand in a sand storm;
I am stealing what they don't even know they have, and has no value to them;
In my eyes, it is everything else that isn't quite right...

But I keep my peace;
I keep my path and my pace;
I keep just on this side of insanity, in both my eyes and theirs.

I got to bed each evening

Remembering who I am.

On and on I am dreaming,

Recreating who I am.

"Democracy dies in darkness."*

A plant will die in darkness,
That is undoubtedly true.
Somethings have the same weakness.
Democracy is one too.

But death can come too from light,
Leaving the leaves scorched and dried
When it is too long or bright
And there is nowhere to hide.

Information is like light,
And the current massive surge
Is democracy's great plight,
A great radiant scourge.

Yes, knowledge is created
In the shelter of shadows,
And wisdom is related
When the midnight dimly glows.

We need more than just the light.
We need its opposite too.
When something is very bright,

So much damage it can do.

Democracy might die in total darkness,
But it would also die from too much light.





* The slogan of the Washington Post