The Plain Truth
‘What is truth?’ Pilate asked,
As if being a stranger to it were an art,
Imported into politics to keep expediency company.
‘Myself’ was the reply on Jesus’s part,
‘Essential knowledge that you ignore at your peril’;
And disciples cry with the tongues of vine leaves
‘It’s spiritual necessity by virtue of the Vine.’
But truth is today what the pragmatist perceives,
As on a radar screen necessity’s beam
Pulses on purpose to fix truth in place,
In the law of circumstance and functional links.
If it’s not on our side, we don’t seek its face,
But note its position like an enemy ship.
Saint truth is steady, edifying, must give no offence. -
Plain truth drifts, is less useful to the hearer
Than the speaker. Its school is ‘common sense’:
It prevails over minds, and yet is indebted
To lies and half-truths.. Its advice, to a man,
Is ‘look after No.1,’ ‘Cherish your contacts,
They are what matters - not the knowledge you scan’,
For ‘competition is life’, and ‘it’s dog-eat-dog!’
In sum, what helps us to survive is truth. -
Or is it? New bearings are to be found not on the radar screen
In the well modulated signals of disillusion, but by the compass
And rudder redefining the horizon away form the clash foreseen.
Mere resignation to the facts of life is the turtle’s way, symbol
Of concentrated materialism. Encased in cold-blooded reality,
He is an age, counting the seconds. His impotence recalls ours
When faced by greed, crime, ugliness, worthlessness, futility.