Don’t panic: it’s not yet another gratuitous foodie blog about eating every possible living thing just cos whatever. Though some might wish it was once they see what I’ve got cooking in this week’s big pot of poetry.
I don’t poem to purposefully hurt people’s feels unless it’s the likes of those anti-vaxers (Verse to Stab Idiots in the Eyes and Ears With).
One shouldn’t laugh at others if unable to laugh at themselves; but does that mean it’s okay to make a joke at another’s expense just because you will your own?
Surely an artist must paint the world as they see it, not according to the number of butts they fear might get hurt; was the first person to have a portrait painted by Picasso anywhere close to pleased or impressed with the result?
Probably: his early works were ‘natural’ – it wasn’t until much later that all the surrealist/cubist stuff began.
To quote Confucius (or D. C. Lau’s translation to be precise):
Book I: 16;
The Master said, ‘It is not the failure of others to appreciate your abilities that should trouble you, but rather your failure to appreciate theirs.’
So . . . banter?
I don’t get those bikers
Who call themselves ‘Lone Wolf’
Then go on social media
And join tons of biker groups
What do they do on runs
Stand solitary in a corner
Giving out cold shoulder?
Thanks for reading 🙂
N. P. Ryan.
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Other poems relating to motorbikes: Motorcycle Despatch Riding Time Machine