Sunday, 19 January 2014

My Self Loathing


Who would I be without my self loathing? 
Could I still sit with the cool kids at lunch? 
I have a hunch if they knew what I was thinking 
they'd shoot me dead with their daddy's shotgun. 

My claim to fame is my shame based behaviour 
that feeds the indifferent approval from the
benevolent smug sons of bitches once silenced by the
deafening sound of my proud roars of defiance.
It's not my fault my ancestors we're raped
by Romans and Vikings not hoards of Moors and Huns.
Granted the story's the same but it's not cool to blame 
someone who looks like your mother. 

My ancestors lived and died under the lash of some
crazy Monarch with eyes too close together
from bloodlines that go back forever genetically predisposed
to addiction with livers of leather and big floppy ears
that prove evolution can work both ways.
There's always been masters and slaves
until along came cable TV and guys like Walter Cronkite
who shed some light on these inequities and brought tyrants

like you and me to our knees and then Viet Nam came into
our living rooms in Dolby surround sound so vivid and 
loud that no one could turn it down or be proud of 
a War that no one could win. I wish I had the passion 
to be a bisexual man or at least the conviction of belief 
to be atheist and live guilt free and swing with the 
rest of the heathens, but no not me. For some ungodly 
reason unbeknown to me, people like me are doomed 

to suffer in our own private purgatory with one foot 
in heaven other in a hell we don't even believe in with 
no possibility of peace unless we are willing to fight 
the beast living within us and break free from our own 
shallow shell we created. If we look back far enough we 
will see that we come from some one we hated for reasons
only remembered through dreams and poetry and how dare
those posers who look down their finely shaped noses not even 

sure if they disagree on a specific issue or more in general 
and it ticks off their delicate sensibilities to find out I can 
stand and bang with the best. But their wives are surprisingly 
friendly and generous with their quiet yet intense attentions 
but don't mention that on the back swing this round if golf 
was more expensive than dinner for thirteen at Easter 

(we all know how that turned out the best of the
bunch got hung out to dry while the rest
shook their heads and drank too much wine)

So again I ask again ...

Who would I be without my self loathing?
Could I still sit with the cool kids at lunch? 
I have a hunch if they knew what I thought
they'd shoot me dead with their daddy's shotgun.




********

11 comments:

  1. Wowzers, Sam, you dug deep with this one. Great write, hopefully it exorcized some ghosts. I love the rawness and the realness of your work. Keep fighting the good fight, my friend! We've come a long way from those ancestors of ours!

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  2. i used to be pretty caught up in it back in high school...def can still hear the ringing of the ghosts of those days as well in your words....keep it real man

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    1. This is just me challenging myself and those around me Brian - its not literal its poetry. These questions and journeys are a lifetime deal for me and thank god for that - its hardly over in high school.

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  3. Self-discovery self-acceptance... I found the traces of a person hidden behind a mask and someone who has no physical presence, who is just a voice. We all have those beasts inside that are well kept obscured from the world.
    I liked the reminiscent tale woven. And great rhythm along with careful spillage of words. Very well-penned.
    -HA

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  4. Diving into self can bring pain, but I have learned I am the captain of my self acceptance..if change is necessary it will only work if it is rooted in my need...great poem

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  5. intense 'rant', Sam, and with my older son a freshman, I wonder the same of what he experiences now ~

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  6. I had to find a quiet time to enter this poem willingly. It made me think about school shootings and their connection with self loathing. As your poem reveals, enough is hateful in the deceptions of the world and the monsters they have made inside of us. I've taken up dialogue with those beasts over the years to tame them somewhat and not completely reject where I come from. Cutting out the full cancer would kill the patient.

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    1. susan, what a great statement "I've taken up dialogue with those beasts" that's what this poem is about,

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  7. Bammmmm....holy crap Sam, this was as hard hitting and introspective (maybe not literally but ideologically because I am not sure if you are writing about self or just writing). The battle with the interior, always there for most, but it is weird when you meet someone who truly does not have this self loathing gene at their disposal. Does that make them free or totally captive and oblivious. I think the self is the one thing we have to keep us in check, and if it were not for this self loathing, the world would be even more of a mess than it is. It may be why we listen to others and put too much stock in their opinions. Great writing Sam....you killed it.

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    1. I think the self loathing gene is part of the human condition bit only a few can look it it the eye.

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