The Crimes We Cover Up

There is no end, to depth of pain, I find beneath the onion skin. To peel back each layer as a surgeon might, revealing what, beneath the pretty pictures...lay so hidden from our sight.

You cannot cover up a wound. You cannot camouflage a hurt. You cannot box a poor cadaver's sin, from stinking up the world, for that is it's, and it's alone, bane'd truth to tell; and ours to bear...as well.

So, make believe, the world's a perfect place, no death, no grief, no age...but hear the screams of rage, injustice wages in the soil.

Nothing's green, so verdant as the grass upon a ground of death, nor any so amiss as that, bereft of pleasure is...it's time within the tomb, unheard...unread.

Then, listen well, the des'late howl of they, that cannot tell, but lay there moldering away, for they have kin that cover them, from ever seeing light of sun, or ever knowing care;

only stone to hold them down...and senseless plastic flowers, fading in the why?


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: The Anatomy lesson, Rembrandt Van Rindt

I wrote this, not as a diatribe upon those 'masking' a less perfect world, in glamour...for some spread the seeds of beauty, in their deeds, while others 'cover up the truth' in their actions. There are all kinds of reasons. The ones I like best, are parental ones...'cover ups', to retard the 'children knowing'. As Siddhartha found, without the gilded walls of his family estate...the world is full of cover ups...and pain and old age and death. 'Disillusion', is really the truth of Earth. But, I believe, once the wound has been opened and cleansed by the light of day...once it is treated with the clear waters of caring and forgiveness...even death can repair. We sorely need to be nurses, more than liars...even, if for the best of reasons. The picture poster's 'post away', covering our social sites with 'wallpaper'. We can never see out. Once in a while, 'a scream' shines through, of the pain, the anguish...beneath. We would rather visit the distractions, the political posts, the pics of naked girls...flaunting 'reptillianly', the wanton scenery of nature, but I think, we need to 'get to it'; unearth the crime...that 'hidden' that has put us all here, and begin the arduous task...of healing each other. B.J.C.