The Toughest Men Are The Biggest Babies

Tags

butter, dogs, guns, humanity, men, tough, toughness, violence

Another edition of 2014 Poem A Day — per Robert Lee Brewer’s Blog Poetic Asides

I wrote this poem very fast, maybe as long as three minutes. It may sound difficult to do, but once you become comfortable with spilling your guts, it really is easy to write something bold and lyrical very quickly. All you need is that inspiring vision and a sense of pace and rhythm.

This whole idea that only physically strong men are tough is an idea I’ve run with in the novel I am working on. It is more than the more economic guns versus butter argument. It is not about money; it is about doing the right thing when needed; it is about being a human being.

I walked downtown Saturday (this is 6:30am Monday) and noticed the square was full of dog shit. Big clumps of steaming crap. The benches were full of bums with their hands hanging out, not even bothering asking for money. Just drop in a toonie Bud so I can buy a coffee. You haven’t had a coffee in a decade. Anyway, on the other side of the bandstand, a young man walked toward me being dragged by two pit-bulls. His hood was over his eyes and his jeans were down to his knees. His black dollar-store sneakers looked like clown shoes. Real toughness. This was a real man, a real winner. This was the shit-ball I wrote about the day before. This was the vision of humanity that haunted me for three minutes and returned the next day to soil my path.

Here is Robert’s prompt.

For today’s prompt, make a statement the title of your poem and either respond to or expand upon the title. Some example titles might include: “A Date Which Will Live in Infamy;” “Guns Don’t Kill People, I Do;” “This Is Your Brain on Drugs;” “Smile for the Camera,” and “Be Kind Rewind.” Of course, there’s an incredible number of possible titles; pick one and start poeming!

The Toughest Men Are The Biggest Babies

It is easier to put a man down than to bring him up
Especially if you are a man
Who has been on his knees

It is easier to shove a fist into a guy’s face than
Throw your heart at a woman
When you have never been loved

It is easier to walk by a child than
Face his tormenters
When you see yourself in their faces

PAD 2014 – End Of Week One – Highlights

Tags

discovery, humanity, night, since

I am not going to post the other eight of the nine poems I have written in this first week of National Poetry Month where I write at least one poem a day at Writer’s Digest Poetry Asides blog. I know I have said this before, but I know very little about poetry; I know very little about writing. The one thing I am sure I know is to trust your Muse. When your Muse speaks to you, you are compelled to drop everything and follow her. Failure to do so is failure as a writer. I run a weekly prompt writing group and it is all about chasing our muses. Everybody who shows up writes something that sparkles in the darkness. That is all I am attempting to do this month and whenever I write poetry: find some hidden truth and shine a light on it.

Day 4 exposed some anger in me, and honestly, I am not sure where it comes from. Extreme Republicans are suspects; though Canadian socialists (NDP) rub me the wrong way too. Or perhaps it is a certain case of academic dishonesty that rankles me. It is definitely not about my wife. I don’t know; it just wrote itself on the page:

Day 4 Prompt: Since ___?___

Irreconcilable Differences

Since when does it matter what I think?
You always do it your way.
Since when does it matter if the boat sinks?
You will ride your omnipotent wave.

Since when do you value another?
You live your life as you please.
Since when have you tried to get closer?
You’re nothing but a big tease.

Since when have you noticed me glisten?
You think you are so cool.
Since when have you stopped to listen?
I am nobody’ fool.

Day five was a weird one. I barely remember writing it, so I cannot begin to tell you what my muse said to me. I found myself writing these words. The bookstore bits somehow seems to cling to a vision of “You’ve Got Mail” with Tom Hanks in what’s her name’s bookstore. Was he even in there? Was there sexual tension? My muse thought so:

Day 5 Prompt: Discovery

Serendipity

Life’s little mysteries happen by mistake.
An extra scoop of beans.
Oh, I guess I do like strong coffee,
I posted in my tweet.

I got in a wrong lane yesterday
Did you know there is a cool used book store hiding on that street?
I touched you on the back with my shoulder
And you shivered in the heat.

I feel rather excited about my Day 6 poem. I am not going to pretend it is good, but it feels good to me. Every line makes me think about my life and who I am, what I believe in, what I want. I am even considering somehow using it as a personal mantra. The thing is, the rhyming pattern AAAAAAAAAAAAA is such a poem is difficult to write. I won’t lie; I wrote this in under five minutes. I would have finished faster, but I needed to go to rhymezone.com and harvest a few more words rhyming with the prompt: night.

Day 6 prompt: Night

When people can stay out of a fight
but not run away in fright
When we can make love in the light
and not be afraid of the night
When I am wrong and you are right
and we do not get upset at a sight
When we all know we are bright
and nobody is trite
When we all take a bite
of humanity’s plight
When we trade in our might
for the desire to write
Then everything will be alright.

Write On!

Straight Lines

Tags

humanity, nature, reset

Humans are frail creatures. Their expanded consciousness on one hand is a great advantage. Instead of following their prey, they can make a mental note of the target’s routine and set up an ambush. They have the means to devise bigger teeth and stronger muscles out of available resources, and if that’s not big enough or strong enough, then can craft even more impressive implements of destruction out of more abstract resources.

Humans’ prowess goes beyond hunting efficiency. When an animal tires of its routine, it sleeps, fights, or plays. Humans can devise their own amusements, this blog for example. It’s what we claim sets us off from the natural world. We are the straight line in Mother Nature’s garden.

Yet our frailties are also enhanced. Lions don’t lie about and worry about their offspring, whether it will rain tomorrow, what the Lion King said in his annual speech from the rock, or who will win the World Series this year. They don’t worry at all. They live and they die.

Humans know they live on a fixed timeline. They can’t see the end, but they know it’s there. They don’t want it to come early. They want to stretch out every last inch of line drawing. A human will do almost anything to keep his or her line extending forward. A human will try to break the rules, will try to disassociate from Mother Nature and define his or her own set of rules. They will go so far as to deny their humanity.

We see evidence of this behavior in our health care practices; after all, health care is where we are able to extend our timelines as we’ve grown as a species, or perhaps civilization is the more correct word. We are too advanced or too holy to be called a species. As we’ve grown to dominate the natural world, we’ve extended our timelines and expanded their signatures. Our impact on the world as individuals and as a civilization has grown in length and depth. We are living longer and our quality of life has improved.

Yet our denial of our place in the natural order has its consequences; it has to. Natural laws were not made to be broken. Maybe we can postpone our date with the Devil, but we cannot excuse ourselves from the meeting. We cannot deny our existence.

Should we move back to our natural ways? Should we no longer treat natural infections and diseases? Should we not treat manmade diseases? 16% of American GDP is spent on healthcare, and it’s all about making our lifelines longer and wider. We fret over e-coli infections, drowning, leaving babies in hot cars, and not wearing seatbelts. Are these good precautions or should we let Darwin run the show? Should type 1 diabetics like me not be treated at all, left to die so that I don’t breed and pollute others’ lifelines?

I don’t know where or when the reset will happen, that moment of truth when Mother Nature decides it’s time for her truant child to come back to the fold. Perhaps it will never happen. Many I talk to believe we are on a divine journey of dominance, and we will find a way like we always have. We will find new, endless sources of oil, global warming is bad science – it’s the natural variability of this wobbly planet, and all disease will be conquered, eventually. Isn’t it ironic how on one hand people can deny nature and on the other convict it of existence?