Sunday, 14 September 2014

Identity: who am I to disagree?

That we are not consulted, nor conspire
in human manufacture is a fact
we can’t refute. The hidden, forging fire
of persons is a mystery still not cracked.

The further fact of me is doubtlessly
an edifice I embrace; there’s little choice
I have but like it. Lumping’s not agreed
at all to be an option that you’d voice.

I can’t reduce or melt it, slash or burn.
The bomb is off the menu, while camouflage
impossible – to hide me cannot earn
fulfillment’s gift or chagrin sabotage.

To accept me, wholeheartedly embrace,
is all that’s left, an inconvenient truth.
I’m just a random happenstance in space
I’ve had to make the most of since my youth.

So, being’s nature can’t be quibbled, nor
can people argue with existence, say
their accidental atoms they deplore,
allow bare chance by grudge to be outweighed.

My presence, then, a rankling definite itch
that spoils the ointment like a fly, a grain,
alas, which with life’s oyster might conflict,
and on its virgin clearness leave a stain.

For grit like me can only irritate,
and cause displacement in the oyster’s gloop.
To use another image; an innate
disturbing fox in your serene hencoop.

Propriety won’t bear this, it disgusts
idées reçues. The “Managers of Change”
accommodate it poorly for it must
upset, and cause affairs to rearrange.

Alternative to this behaviour might
be suicide, yet who can contemplate
such self slaughter? The famous Dane took fright
and massacred the guardians of the state.

He toyed with immolation, choosing, though,
the bloody-minded option, spiting Claud
and Gertrude, to offend the status quo
and bear the consequences with his sword.

So how can I apologise for things
I didn’t guide? When fate prescribed my mien
I was not in on it. Disgrace now clings
with bad names which this feckless dog demean.

Yet, life's the plough to furrow - to avoid
won't wash at all. The worst scenario
envisaged here is that a person's void,
a meaningless invention here below.

A butterfly might flap its wings and cause
typhoons; a man seeks to equivocate
his entity, set on observing laws
that let him live, but never actuate.

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