POEM - And what is this?

What is it we want

That I can offer my

thumbs and thoughts too?

What is that?

And what is this?

What is the faith

That neither brutalises truth

Nor sugar coats the sting?

What is that?

And what is this?

What is it pride

When overburdened 

With apathy or bile?

What is that?

And what is this?

What sort of question

Is it brings answers 

That do not feed the hunger?

What is that?

And what is this?

What colour of life is it

That spins away from

hollow holes of glory?

What is that?

And what is this?

What is it thunders

Before the smell of rain

is conjured in my mind?

What is that?

And what is this?

What is it that remains silent

as baying wolves

Demand sacrificial victims?

What is that?

And what is this?

What is it that survives

the civilisational collapsing

that only a poet mourns?

What is that?

And what is this?

What is it I resist

As my throat is arrested 

at the cusp of words

What is that?

And what is this?

What is it I am seeking

in the long drawn

alleys of allegory 

What is that?

And what is this?

What is it?

I am dreaming of

that I do not really wish to know?

What is that?

And what is this?

Stephen Lumb
Written October 2026