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Real Life on Film

Television eyes after
six episodes last night
the last two this morning
after breakfast on a book
about the 14th century.

Add to that two more
about an English World
War II thing before dinner
left me with a horrible

I read the book on the
first one. Good. We had
to see it through. The
second one was too
vulgar to continue.

But the Nina Hoss movie
the night before still haunts
me. It was real art. No, it
was real life on film.

I couldn’t watch anymore.
I was too sad. It wasn’t the
movies; it was the dismal
local and world news
brought to us by politicians
of the press.

When I think of the state
of things today, it makes
me sadder still. There is
no hope in the hands of

Ayn Rand wrote of us.
Her government rules;
Where are the heroes?
Where is truth? Not here.
It is not where we are; it
is who we are and what
we believe.

I rather watch Nina Hoss.
I rather watch Nelly sing
“Speak Low” to see real
heroes, real life on film.


Categories: Poetry

Tagged as:


Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

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