Yarns

YARNS

Back in the day
Recalled
Back on the way
Reviewing
Seems came

A few oops-style anomalies
Now tweaked, refigured, polished
Spun slyly into a fresh web of
… Let’s not say lies
Not even half truths

For we, being the us that we are
Or at least the one that we see
Mimicking the programs
That mimic us prefer
Updates or Improvements

Currently then any dark side
Any giveaway liability airbrushed
Our life as a glossy magazine
Not only on public sale
But available free

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on November 17, 2015, in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 15 Comments.

  1. Compounded by memories that change each time they are recalled.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. We hide our true self a lot….for what?
    We keep giving the world the lie, and then become the lie.
    Very nicely penned.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ah yes, this is what blogging is all about, ‘For we, being the us that we are…’
    Great poem/improvisation thanks

    Liked by 1 person

  4. all-inclusive metaphor is itself…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. For we, being the us that we are
    Or at least the one that we see
    Mimicking the programs
    That mimic us prefer
    Updates or Improvements

    Very much a thought provoking poem. I especially like the wording of the above words.

    Liked by 1 person

  1. Pingback: The Infirmity of Memory | rivrvlogr

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