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Wheedle in a Haystack

Who can help me out here, when those orphans are singing that the, “Sun will come out tomorrow”, is it because it’s night-time or was there some climactic event? I suppose it doesn’t matter since the sentiment remains largely unchanged however I’d like to think if it’s just raining the Sun could instead come out at any moment! Why wait until tomorrow? We can’t blame Annie though, as a ginger she had so much less to look forward to. I jest of course dear redheads! I love that you don’t have souls, I needn’t feel out-of-place in your presence. I’m considering having jerseys made. 🙂

The latest piece got away from me a tad. It started as a plea to question your reading materials and morphed instead into that which it is that halts our desire for truth in the first place. Why when something fits your existing narrative you don’t want to ask questions. We feel validated in our fury and perceived intelligence but it’s no less fake than the original information itself. We all have the essence within us whose desires are independent of our morality. Some to be successful in attempts to silence, others have bodies found in the trunk of their cars. Obviously not dichotomous, infinite data points in between.


“Wheedle in a Haystack”, July 17, 2018

Hovering right before our eyes

Both simple truth and covert lies

Hay within haystack’s what you seek

Welcome all to frustration’s peak

Now let us further complicate

Perspective still defines each fate

Evil is a human notion

Dr. Jeckel’s noxious potion

Within us all lurks darkness pure

Beckons attrition, wants no cure

Such a thing can’t be exorcised

Just never become mesmerized

It’s always there to drag below

Humans in whom weaknesses show

Battle only for cause of peace

Your haystack hunt will swiftly cease.


I honestly don’t know what I mean by “battle”. I’m pretty anti-violence but unfortunately many others seem to be alternatively inclined. Somewhere I do have a line where I would intercede physically, several in fact for different scenarios, (someone being hurt in the street, war etc.), I hope never to uncover where any more of them are located. I swear I did have the map at one point.

I very much appreciate your expending mental bandwidth to consume the preceding nonsense.

Upload complete, you may now unplug your brain.

HTaWT! (You Know.)

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: poetry writing

Tagged as:

dreadpoetssobriety

A broken mind held together by cellophane and some tack.

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