-

 Honesty

as an act of resistance

full moon freely illuminates

forlorn nights will try to teach us

wistful winds, the chimes will speak

direct and multi-languaged, but

never double tongued

 

as an act of resistance

skeleton of sand, grains, waves

soundless honest shapes, sign language

whatever we always obeyed, submitted to

avoiding, actively ignoring plain truth

courage to be

 

bison being, human memories

still haunting us because we did not

ask, could not face what is in front of us

till death enters as an act of revelation

we never admitted, but it was always

present

 

whether rudely robbing, extorting

enslaving, exterminating, hiding history

not willing to unmask, we take part passively

gladly removed, also seemingly so innocent

fierce rays of suffering now reveal helpless

resisting

 

cold tragedy, troubled business of peace

directly avoiding deft dialogue, within, without

dutifully we remain deaf-blind to what is in the picture

till clearly a dead-end will suggest we’d delve into

 daring lucid questions as an act of caring

honesty


 

Karina Epperlein, Berkeley, April/May, 2026



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

-
Image
No End to Possibilities        if I do this then what will happen? obviously for sure if I do this correctly then nothing will happen (to me) if I disappear then nothing has happened   to me to you to anybody   if I answer just the right way                         will I be alright?   perhaps if I chose the right road then I won’t be disappeared   If I make a wrong move                         then that might be my end   or your end, or all of ours   if I stay silent                         you will not need to feel uncomfortable   possibly if I do not come here then you will not have a proble...
Read more
-
Image
  Flows, Sings In the early hour peeing later morning   surprises on tongue tasting tea teeth chewing lips   listening with feet on curious soles   another day steps into my humming orb with honest clarity   midday overflows into afternoon filled with silken chords multiple voices ring echoing through ears, flesh, bones   misty waves of sound weaving droplets into dusky desire for rest, drifting, winter five o’clock sun’s gone already, structures, roofs, walls, fences, blurred, melted, faint – how could the day glide so effortlessly Open is the garden: Licht   fading to shades of grey evening sprouts questions   darkness delicately explores night star-studded with dreams Here a fugue entices centuries converge music by J.S. Bach reaches consoles, flows, sings, strings shimmer Tröstet das Herz, wir sehnen uns nach dieser Berührung der Seele   Es regnet… Auch heute noch In der kleinen Kathedrale klingt der Gesang  Violoncello Stimme Orgel ...
Read more
-
Image
  Mellow Lemonbalm und Zärtlichkeit in my garden so much tenderness– so viel Zärtlichkeit  – and medicine   We all need allies. Mine are my wild friends growing on Karinaland ’s hill. Especially three of them. A sprawling meadow of beautiful   Plantain plants (considered a weed by many), now spread out all over the garden, bushy, high, with delicate blooms. From their leaves, stems and flowers, I make a skin-healing oil. The milky seeds of my Wild Oats , harvested at the right time, infused in cognac for my Milky Oats tincture, becomes a gentle nervous system soother. And under the old plum tree my small meadow of Lemon Balm . All three are my tender allies, beloved balms. As oil, tincture and tea, they calm, nourish and soothe skin, nerves, mood and mind. In Germany exists  Klosterfrau Melissengeist , an old classic remedy for all kinds of un-wellbeing – Unwohlsein . Each year, I used to bring a small bottle back to America. Nuns in monasteries knew how to pr...
Read more