Dead Cool, Macho Man

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Overheard on a bus:

TEENAGER 1: It’s all very well for people to say don’t carry a knife or a gun, but what do they know, yeah? It’s dead cool, right? Besides, you gotta protect yourself. F**k the do-gooders. What kind of world do they think we live in? You gotta get real, yeah?

TEENAGER 2: What if someone gets hurt, killed even?

TEENAGER 1: So it ain’t gonna be me, right?

TEENAGER 2: I dunno…

TEENAGER 1: (Rising to leave as bus stops) You dunno know f**k all.

An elderly lady sitting next to me shook her head, "He’s right about one thing. What do we know about the world they live in? And whose fault is that, I wonder...?"

I said nothing. What could I say?

There is nothing either cool or macho about carrying a knife or a gun even if (potentially) in self-defence, and who's going to care anyways if you end up dead?

This poem is a villanelle.

DEAD COOL, MACHO MAN

Finally, managed to get me a gun

and spreading the word,

didn’t ask who’ll carry my coffin

At first, life was a buzz, good fun,

but all that disappeared;

finally, managed to get me a gun,

Needed to prove I was someone,

get me some street cred;

didn’t ask who’ll carry my coffin

Shouting at just about everyone,

but no one ever heard;

finally, managed to get me a gun,

Joined a gang, mustn't let 'em down,

show I was shit scared;

didn’t ask who’ll carry my coffin

Got into a street fight, shot down
dripping with blood...

Finally, managed to get me a gun,

didn’t ask who’ll carry my coffin

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2015

Notes on the Art of Self-Deception

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

We have all met them, people who are too stubborn to admit they even might be wrong or mistaken; who won’t compromise because they see even meeting someone halfway as a sign of weakness.

Mind you, even stubbornness has its place in the human psyche; it can be a virtuy or a vice.. For example, it is helping me through my treatment for prostate cancer; a stubborn streak in me refuses to consider (most of the time) what could yet happen.

Oh, but life is too short to dwell for long on its what-ifs and maybes. Carpe Diem, I say!

This poem is a kenning, sometimes referred to as a 'Who am I?' poem.

NOTES ON THE ART OF SELF-DECEPTION

Few acknowledge

my presence from beginning to end

of their time,

insinuating my way with expertise

worthy of a spy

intent on political obstruction,

slithering in and out

among corridors of a nation’s

central powerhouse

To anyone aware

of my existence, it suits them best

to deny I have any influence

over their affairs, but will insist

they will proceed

with the fairness and diplomacy

(not political expediency)

choosing to ignore my capacity

for sabotage

Though the heart

stay true to all intents and purposes,

I will wreak havoc

among dark corridors of the mind,

slithering in and out

where conscience would tread,

ensuring a degree

of impotence for its slipping up

on a trail of lies

 I pass for a pale imitation of integrity

 in the footlights of human vanity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013