Familiar generalizations don’t always tally with stark reality! (Poem)

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Familiar generalizations don’t always tally with stark reality! (Poem)

Post  Admin on Sat Oct 14, 2017 10:29 pm

By Stanley Collymore

You obviously came into my life when I was down on my
luck and at a time when I couldn’t have given a – no
I’m not going to use that jokey expletive which
rhymes with luck and will instead civilly
employ the more socially acceptable
phrase of saying, as I’ve done
previously, that I was literally down on my luck. But
anyway, things were going staggeringly badly for
me, and understandably my getting involved
with another person, far less so falling in
love again and so soon with anyone,
regardless of who that individual
woman was, was definitely the
last thing I had on my mind;
or for that matter the kind
of reactive action which
honestly, rationally, pragmatically
and much less so judiciously, I
would consciously, or most
fittingly, have seriously
contemplated getting
ensnared into again.

No bullshit that, nor any wanton, intentional, or cynically
manufactured, all-out determined and self-serving spin
concurring with the definitive reasoning by me, in
order to expressly circumvent the personal and
deeply troubling consequences known to be
intimately coupled with the unrestrained
failure to definitely and permanently
put an evidently embarrassing past behind me, and
through that conscious process negate the likely
possibility, due responsibility and similarly
the apparent necessity of entertaining a
completely new relationship by me,
and essentially out of the earlier
mess that I’d made of my life,
be applicably positioned to
naturally get romantically
involved all over again.

Well that’s a pretty glib assumption to make as
well as an easy thing for anyone to say, and
especially so for those who have not the
vaguest inkling of who or what I am,
and consequently, fundamentally
do not know nor could conceivably understand
the complicated imponderables, in terms of
valued expectations and ardent emotions,
that when immutably choreographed
and then confidently played out,
their distinctly painstakingly,
exhaustive, collaborative
and convincing ballet
de dance, becomes
the unwavering supplement, on
my part, to my unpretentious
chariness and, naturally,
personal awareness.

Accordingly, do forgive me for delineating my views so
uncompromisingly, and more to the point especially
so if I have offensively misjudged you as being
among those who have not only collectively
but also conclusively jumped to the false
conclusion, which they unwaveringly
expect and even demand must be
the solitary outcome of how, with no alternative
prospect in their prejudiced deliberations, I
should unquestionably be the man who
they unilaterally decide that I must
unwisely become. To which my
clear response is this: Think
whatever you want to but
take it from me, don’t
ever seriously think
of truly holding
your breath
on that
one!

©️ Stanley V. Collymore
14 October 2017.


Author’s Remarks:
I don’t need to acquaint anyone who’s even vaguely compos mentis, but I’ll remind you here all the same for obvious reasons, that life and its associated factors constitute an ongoing, and invariably a complex game that everyone in varying degrees and often in the case of some of you for substantial periods of time, as you either blissfully, idiotically, manipulatively or even sensibly embark on playing them.

Sometimes the motivation for doing so is deliberate and clear-cut, on other occasions not even the participants themselves can say with any certainty or even honesty precisely what it is that they’re doing or why; for in truth they haven’t the foggiest notion.

The game of love is no different and as a pastime has been going on from the beginning of time and specifically that crucial moment when Eve first got a deeply enamoured Adam to nibble her apple, which he apparently liked and consecutively after that occasion continued to have numerous bites from it. It was a regeneration apple you see. The clever ones out there will get the joke; the others, truth to tell, it’s not worth you bothering.

So long after we’re all of us no longer here, future generations of human beings - should earth and Homo Sapiens manage to survive the impending nuclear holocaust that the morons in Rogue State USA, toadying Britain and the rest of the west’s Useful Idiots that serve the vested interests of the sickos that currently run this world we live in – will maintain the custom of playing their own love games.

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