Mouth Foam Flotsam

Tossing on the storm sea
Flung like flotsam foaming
Shrieking in the galing winds
Drowned sea weed hair sweeping
The white phosphored wave tops.

And drowning, pulled down
drifting through black waters
Alone and oh so silent waters

Then flung up and out again to rage.
These are the days
These are the nights.

Falling back into Trust

I fall back into trust
Forgetting that anything may be illusion
Remembering confidences that I believed
I fall back into trust
I fall back into honesty unfiltered
I fall back.

Tumbling in white water
Downstream slip sliding
Seeking the lee of submerged rock safety
I fall back.
Seeking only truth
Light unfiltered penetrating truth
Hearing falseness in the eddies
Smell  deceit in runnel and foam
In the deep shadow silence of lee
I fall back.

a strange explanation

 A recent email to a "colleague" (well more a boss...) called attention to a problem of using an arithmetic mean rather than a geometric mean in a metric of performance that was extremely Poisson distributed. The response was essentially 'well, you're absolutely correct but since people use this to apply for promotion we wanted to use an aspirational mean.'  I kid you not! An academic said the equivalent of  "Yes, we know it's wrong but it suits our management goals so we're doing it anyway."
Can you guess in how many ways I find this offensive?  Let me suggest the following:
not honest
manipulative
mathematically wrong
disingenuous

I'm sure there are more but it's too depressing to dwell on.

Where the 2 cents worth??

After all of the thoughts and
All of the feelings spent
Still no one right word
To speak.

Those moments when something happens and all of the pre-thought, the analyses, the distilling of emotions drop silently away while out of the mouth comes something unplanned, unexpected, ambiguous. We who think ourselves rational beings behave thus. Often, in retrospect, I see that what I have said can be taken many different ways, that the few words in that moment do not convey the actual meaning, but there are no "do-overs.". And yet silence does not convey the products of the soul either. So, as a verbally symbolic species, we are stuck. Stuck, and yet we keep on trying (at least some of us) to communicate honestly, to make the words truly stand for thoughts and feelings as they are rather than using words to try and mold others to be as we'd like them to be. When I find myself doing the latter, it is generally not because I have decided to try and remodel reality, but because I am overwhelmed by my lack of comfort with what "is"  and convulsively try to remake reality by revising the description.  I think we best make what we truly want to be by acknowledging what truly is. In the Meyer Briggs, one of the continua is a "compassion - justice" balance.  I am a strongly justice person -- I am not proud of this. I try really hard to be compassionate, but when push comes to shove, I innately choose justice. I would like to understand the nature of this.