Guess who's Coming to Dinner OR Party Piece
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
An American acquaintance returned to the U.S. last year. In latter days, whenever I visited, his delightful budgerigar's cage was always covered with a cloth. Once, I asked why. He grinned, and confided that he often talked to it and it had been known to name names along with random aspects of conversation best left for his own ears only. Among other things, he had very strong views about Donald Trump's presidency which I share; I would have so loved to lift that cloth, but sadly the bird died before an opportunity presented itself.
Time
changes many if not most things about us, for better or for worse, yet there
are aspects of human nature that remain steadfast; whether or not we choose to
let them see the light of day or keep them under wraps, though, is another
matter.
An American acquaintance returned to the U.S. last year. In latter days, whenever I visited, his delightful budgerigar's cage was always covered with a cloth. Once, I asked why. He grinned, and confided that he often talked to it and it had been known to name names along with random aspects of conversation best left for his own ears only. Among other things, he had very strong views about Donald Trump's presidency which I share; I would have so loved to lift that cloth, but sadly the bird died before an opportunity presented itself.
Why hasn't the man spoken out about years of injustice towards African-Americans and other ethnic minorities, vowed to stamp out police brutality all but commonplace in some parts of the U.S.? He clearly can no more judge the mood of the people any more than a significant number of other senior politicians around the world.
“Strong minds discuss ideas, average minds
discuss events, weak minds discuss people.”
―
―
This
poem is a kenning.
GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER or PARTY
PIECE
My favourite party piece,
lives
in disarray, any willing
to
help clear up the mess
giving
up in despair while others
would
steal my limelight
with
various blotted copybooks
and
dirty laundry like bailiffs
banging
on doors, demanding dues
(to
even old scores?)
Everyone's worst
enemy,
often
inflicting pain even when
a
person's best interests
at
heart. Ah, but whose? Few, indeed
can
look me in the eye,
swear altruism,
no ulterior motive,
for
playing mind games
with
hidden truths too close to home
for
comfort
Colour
me right or wrong,
add
subtle shades of light and dark.
as appealing to the con artist
in
us all as acknowledging the efforts
of
a creative spirit privy
to
the heart's persuasion, called out
for
a coward when playing safe,
yet
hedging my bets, anxious to play fair
for
appearances sake
Call
me Gossip, everyone’s favourite sinner,
an open invitation to dinner
Copyright R. N. Taber 2010, 2020
Labels: consciousness, crime, culture, global, hate, human, identity, leadership, nature, personal, poetry, politics, positive, prejudice, religion, society, space, spirit, thinking
posted by R. N. Taber | 08:12
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