War done with words

This war done with words,

it doesn’t just happen

as in all of a sudden.

It gets noticed

somewhere in mid-process.

Maybe it is

some previously learned technique

but possibly an unconscious method.

It is a forest-for-the-trees

until it becomes perfectly clear.

An old habit pattern

yields yet another conclusion.

This then gets feed

to a somewhat noticing mind.

And there it is

an event of verbal distinction.

A storyline gets wrapped around

its bare essentials.

It is reiterated by word of mouth

as another step

but this is encumbering.

Up from the depths it leaped

with a

‘how come I never noticed this before?’

(sure I noticed it before, dummy!)

Am I the cause of it or the result?

(we know but won’t say.)

What has no beginning

yet I always claim one?

Who started this war done with words?

(it was a war before words!)

Is this a passive aggressive method

of rejection or acceptance?

How contradicted does it have to get

for me to embrace it all as authentic?

Is experience just a trail or trial

of these kind of gimmicks?

My awareness in these sorts of matters

seems like some form of displacement.

My expectations have a false entitlement.

Most of my inner voices

have tonal elements

that are somewhat out of control.

I am fooling myself

by making sense of this idle blather.

(not really but maybe self-candid.)

This is just war done with words.

But I sip from this stream often

as if it were a lemonade stand

then look for bitter seeds

to prove its’ authenticity.

(a kind of negative grounding I’d guess).

I drink from what already is said

but only live in my palate

of interpretation (tending towards bitter).

I get my details all dressed up

as ducks in a row.

In my mind,

I feign short stories for kids

as my notion of false sincerity.

In my hidden agenda

behind the intention for arguing,

I do, ‘being really interested’

as if it is a beneficent form of boredom.

My listlessness is cultivated

into a causal smile or soft yawn,

just before my verbal launch.

This is a war done with words

and I am at the front of the booth,

sipping my lemonade

inwardly watching

my row of seedy ducks pass by!