Lies

Lies hang like rotting fruits
From slender, dew-dropped threads of truth
In the great tree of knowing

(Truth, when glimpsed, that glistens and glimmers and fixes the eye,
and mesmerises,
and casts its light on the lies around it
so that all seems truth)

Hanging with painted vessels,
Cracked, seeping acid,
That drip the blinding corrosion
Of faith beyond reason

Blinded we are
To the ends of our ways
By the lies that bring comfort
And entrap our weak gaze
A thousand ghosts of truth long corrupted

So we lie and lay drunk on the fruits’ putrefaction
Vile juice stains our lips and our words and our kisses
And we think ourselves clever, oh how clever are we!
And see not the dead and the dying

She weeps when we tie her in knots of brute language
For her subtlety is endless and our minds far too small
So we hold ever tighter to the lies that surround us
The scratchings of fools on the great library wall

Lies

Robert Burton

London, United Kingdom

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 8

Artist's Description

A meditation on the ways we close our minds to difficult truths, especially if they require us to change or go against the teachings of our culture.

Artwork Comments

  • Tony Ryan
  • Robert Burton
  • Tony Ryan
  • Ushna Sardar
  • Robert Burton
  • Kirstine Dieckmann
  • Robert Burton
  • Robert Burton
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