The Portrait of the Poetaster as a Man - Book VII - Complexities of location

I feel that I begin to have a feel
For London's ways - although not born and bred
In this, the behemoth of towns, I've now
Lived ten years both in, and, at times, around.
Despite this past decade, I cannot claim
Familiarity - I'm worse than most
To know London in parts - and known fraction,
Small part that doesn't represent the whole.
And London seems a proud maturing oak
Which stands with roots as deep as branches tall -
I've lived in both the roots and canopy
But tend to gravitate to those things base.
In some respects perspective's to discard;
In London high and low rub cheek to cheek
And opposites are both involved - partake -
Are players in, the same phenomenon.
In some respects perspective's to maintain;
With similarities a world apart -
Youth's tendency to celebrate alone,
And wealth and poverty immiscible.
Oh, what a wonderful city, with tube
And bus and overground and open space
And theatre and commerce and shining light
And river sight and opportunity!
Oh, what a terrible city, with crime
And knife and poverty and homelessness
And cost and strain and clamour and delay
And stress and those who having not, have not!
Solipsistic and London loves alike
Can contradict themselves - both best explained
If things went well - if love I spent on them
Were love requited rather than one way.
But as things stand I find myself in awe
Of some complex that does more harm than good,
And wanting to admire what seems upright
I halt at incompatibilities.
London attracts the superlative word;
The best: the worst: finest: harshest: the most;
With this in mind, but one adjective fits -
In many dimensions, London's extreme.
My perspective is mixed as much as me:
Two London's grant a home to rich and poor -
I feel regard, am envious of both,
And find myself outsider looking in.
To feel at home surrounded by London
I'd need to have to normalise myself,
I'd need to be at home inside my head,
And then my ease might near to born and bred.

Aspects of London's ethos are a boon
And when comparison is drawn they make
Her fair above the rest, because of just
And strong spirit of this community.
You can't ignore the proud independence
That emanates and flows from Londoners
And is expressed in stance and look and strut
Displayed in workmen, in those well to do.
And each assumes the pride that he or she
Has made their way, carved out a slice of life,
A stake that's rightly theirs, their property,
Which none but fate can claim or take away.
And London is a place of charity
With purse and wallet giving just to give -
Beyond the loving gift of alms or food
Sweet charity's an institution here.
Which reaches out to countless refugees
Who come to London wishing to escape
Injustice - here a welcome's extended
With its perfection and imperfection.
Capital, where beside the play of wealth
Exists experience of suffering:
Practising have served hard apprenticeships
In that profession, or whatever trade.
London's ethos knows hardship as knows ease,
Perhaps the one more than the other shared
In communality - and sharing woes
Permits a grace when faced with troubled times.
Londoner's mood (ethos's mood) is good:
Although the most prefer to keep themselves
Close to themselves, exchange a word or phrase,
Nine times from ten detect a note of cheer.
And if you find you lack a shared interest
The capital itself will serve for one,
Uniting those that live beneath her name
And making overlap from but a place.
As London knows an ethos which is strong,
There's unity - transport's a binding link -
As all would wish to go, to travel to,
To integrate with other parts of town.
The parts converge into continuum,
The whole projecting an identity
And merging through postcode or 020 -
With different feels and flavours, parts unite.
And with all this the ethos perseveres
And too has persevered - London's not new -
And neither its ethos - both rise and fall -
Both passed from all to one, from one to all.

Aspects of London's ethos are woeful
And when comparison is drawn they make
Her worse below the rest, because of vain
And wanton play of some though not of all.
And London life is run by proud elites
Who vie to be superior and raise
Such ethos high, who strive to demonstrate
The worth of superficial vanity.
Theses people schmooze, congratulate themselves
On being those above the rest, mainly
Through privilege not worth - predilections
To patronise, be supercilious.
And here a strong individualism
Attains new heights and goes beyond the state
Of looking out for self and turns to that
Which just rejects, ignoring others' plight.
In some, beside a love of family,
Hostility towards the fellow man,
And stronger so when he's a stranger too -
And they'll say: 'God helps him who helps himself'.
London has temples to Mammon's worship
With luxuries beyond the dream of most -
Displaying rich indulgence, these the spoils
Of way of life but known and kept to few.
Londoners gaze in adoration on
This wealth which is displayed for all to see
And seem to dream that all can reach this height -
A strange pipe dream of universal wealth.
And so the ethos of the well to do
Is anathema to the general good,
And not just that but it is idolised
As if it were the only worth in life.
And fear and envy show in what is read -
Staple digest of free newspapers' leads
Would seem roll-call of wealth and misery,
And thus they sell their advertising space.
London's a group of animosities
And differences that lead to troubled peace -
Some cabs refuse to go to South London,
0207 carves out people's lives.
On name alone some fear to tread in parts,
West London is a different beast to East,
A fundamental change to cross the Thames
Regardless whether heading north or south.
Unpleasantness remains intransigent,
Maybe unfair - perhaps it stays the same -
I lived here in 1992, and
In years since - more I'm sure - no different land.

And London's brand of isolation is
Equivalent to an independence,
Experience of which prepares these souls
To function and depend upon themselves.
Londoners demonstrate self-reliance
And hence display a strength of character
In facing hardship, ease or everyday -
Their self-dependency uncovers worth.
Each soul remains as grouped - and yet alone -
The individual tends to their own care,
Though favour's trade with friends and family
Will always play a central role in things.
Each citizen a self-sufficient isle,
The haven's calm accepting social trade,
Resourced to harbour visitors and self,
And with ability to weather storms.
With isolation of independence
A self-reliance stands nurtured and born -
And it's almost approaching consummate,
This staunch, sure individuality.
And what an attitude towards the world -
With self's ability to work and play
To deal with stress, to manage in extremes,
And to unwind the mind at times, relax.
To stand upright in firm independence -
This lesson taught by London and its school -
And what single ability does more
To help souls thrive in this wide world of ours.
And if the self is bettered, others helped -
If you do not look out for number one
Then how can you assist some others' needs -
Thus, willed individuals support the whole.
Independence is a clarion call,
And those following, like to devotees
Of god who gives in next, and in this life,
A god of isolated, merging selves.
When putting this, our world to rights, the best
To start at home, and tending your own plot
Achieve improvement there - Londoner starts
With self, and concentrates on good through this.
The home's a castle (these souls Englishmen)
In each an independent sanctuary
Incorporated to protect ideals
That those who live within hold true and dear.
Thus, as individuals, Londoners stand
(In isolation or in unison)
Independent: they bond with this city,
And bond with those who live here proud and free.

But then there is the other side of things
With isolation through independence
Becoming dire constraint and absolute
That turns into a harsh reality.
I speak of isolation that I know
And guess that others know as well as me,
The kind of drought of social intercourse
That leaves the isolated cracked and dry.
In London you could rot - I feel I do -
And none would turn their head or blink an eye,
And life, retreating from all company,
Would find expression in a solitude.
And people turn away in this harsh town,
And living here has made me do the same,
Perhaps not that, but daily solitude
Has chafed my attitude to fellow man.
I failed to help a man I knew by sight
(Some months ago) he lay upon the ground,
I didn't stop because I knew the man
To drink his beer upon the street - no grounds.
Five years ago: the same with different man:
I offered help and wish the right of that
Would counteract the guilt I feel for this;
I'm less the man as these five years have passed.
It seems this brand of isolation that
Has made me shy of social duties now:
Perhaps I never knew them all so well,
But what is clear is that I'm getting worse.
For some the net of social life runs thin
And isolated they reject contact -
Like me, those poor in knack to form friendship
Will find themselves enclosed in iron grasp.
So solitude is fostered, comes to pass,
In conversations where some speak aloud
As isolated from the world and selves:
The dialogue evaporates to chintz.
And London's brand of isolation is
A world apart from others you may find:
The others relative, this absolute,
This isolation's pure as pure can be.
And that remains as my subjective view:
The faces in the street on rainy days
Might make you think that many think the same:
On sunny days you see the opposite.
But anyone who wants to be alone
Will be left so here, all alone as sole -
If you really desire to isolate
London's a place that can alienate.

The magnitude of London's state defies -
Beside extreme the word to use is great -
A stately, noble scale is resonant
Of huge expanses: green and red and grey.
Amazing buildings grow to line the streets
Which are befitting of this capital,
And there's not one or two set jewels in crown
But multitude, a cornucopia.
Magnificent to view or apprehend,
The splendour trumpets forth stability;
En masse the building state that you've arrived:
If you belong they state a pride in place.
This source brings joy to each and everyone,
An architecture great and small and new
And old - this overwhelming plenitude
Will satisfy the most of any taste.
The magnitude of London is a boon
Permitting that diversity which grows,
A gilt facet of this metropolis -
London's variety is spice of life.
The goods of all the world are here to buy,
And pay - the stores will stock at your demand -
A multitude of wares and shops and stalls
Adorn varied markets and parts of town.
And manners, modes of dress, as seen at home
In other continents are seen at home
In London's streets - as if the world had come
Here to display cultural diversity.
Despite this great and grand variety
There's many parts of London which will strike
As first and foremost English capital
And stud the crown with jewels of national pride.
The magnitude of London gives a choice
To each inhabitant who can adopt
Each, any way of life, or make a mix -
A wealth of choices for the choosing here.
Vote left or right for mayor, the spectrum's there:
Commuting - drive a car or ride a bike:
Then socialise - West End or Islington:
Always options in diverse capital.
A chain's not fit to call itself a chain
Without a London store, if your poison's
Consumption, go indulge to hearts content,
And choose that choice in company of like.
London's offered palette is limitless,
The choice of brush remains the one who paints,
And combinations drawn from what is here
Become to those who live here, more than dear.

The magnitude of London's state defies -
The word of choice to use is behemoth -
The huge exteriors will undermine
And overpower with ease light hearted thoughts.
This scale that's massive overwhelms and pins,
Intimidates, denudes and silences -
People in place here do not have a place,
The unassailable grandeur is all.
This scale is consonant with power elites
But what of common modes of life? you can't
Make Londoner's mentalities inflate
To heights of self-importance through what's grand?
And in reflected scale - congestion chokes
(It seems almost always and most highways)
And through a rage will make some roads a hell
Of vying vehicles and pedestrians.
The magnitude of London is a woe
A weight of weights in an expanse unknown -
The faces on the streets, on undergrounds
Are not perceived as leaves upon the tree.
En masse from A to B people commute
Unwilling or unable to reside
And work close by - and with this rush hour's bane
Makes much delay for many Londoners.
There are ten times a million strangers here,
Each one in passing leaves a fading taste
Or slight intrusion - an averted gaze,
Or just a glance, may scratch or take with it.
And if you feel at odds with London's ways
The odds are stacked against you - this no place
To be experiencing even slight
Antipathy towards a hash surround.
The magnitude of London leaves no choice:
You'll do as others do through force of will
Or force of wills and to oppose or try
Not to conform, a form of suicide.
Observances become monolithic,
Supported by a multitude - there is
Habit to learn, and rule which needs obeyed -
Each walk of London life has its manual.
And, to be fair, (because we talk of scale)
London achieves the grand and minuscule -
The mansion house and so studio flat:
Despite their size the each can be a dream.
A London armed with magnitude and size
(The small may override with multitude)
We have a behemoth of stark extremes
Which may fulfil or ruin many dreams.

London society is not the same
As that which teems, abounds, in other towns,
The most this stays a difference of degree
Although almost of fundamental type.
Just take the kids to school or play cricket
To see that close community on show
Which people try to claim that London lacks -
Your friends revolve around activity.
In London like associates with like,
And building bonds that flourish thus puts paid
To thought that London lacks a joie de vivre
Or lacks attendant grace of social ease.
Londoners meet, and meet for diverse grounds -
For any form of communality -
A beer or fine art: for some it is both;
In cheer or in earnest: for social fare.
What stands out in social Londoners is:
Facility, ability and sense -
Few know their trade and cannot illustrate
With ease the smallest of intricacies.
Few write without their having read and known;
Few would argue their point, unless they could
So back up argument with cause and fact -
Thus many themes are dealt with expertly.
For want of better words, Londoners seem
Reflective in their mode, and exhibit
Reflective joys so much reflective moods -
They've thought about their pleasures more than most.
With this reflection a maturity -
And that sometimes displayed beyond their age;
Few speak without first having paused in thought:
Few act in haste without considering.
And there's a sense of self-assuredness
Runs side by side with sensed belonging to
This great metropolis - a Londoner -
A civic pride correctly put on show.
Communal sense of purpose is displayed,
And that as side by side with sense of self,
And both are leavens to inhabitants
Which make them rise to justify their worth.
And there's a sense of balance to be found
That saunters hand in hand with broad and wide
Experience of life - few here naive -
The blinkered ones have brought it on themselves.
London society should pride itself
(Regardless delving low or climbing high)
On its variety, ability,
With it a wealth of speciality.

London society is not the same
As that which teems, abounds, in other towns,
Difference would seem no difference of degree
But errs towards a fundamental type.
London society's no monolith,
More it's a loose community of spheres
Which overlap - this intersection's slight:
Associations grow within one sphere.
But still these spheres are like to bastions
Unto themselves - the each deciding on
A membership and code and rules and modes -
Each sphere is closed as if fraternity.
The spheres are served with sealed exclusiveness -
Some attributes prerequisite to join -
A given mode of life, a given view
On ranks and social status seems required.
The social patois that's who's in and out
Both captivates and fascinates most folk,
In glossy gossip columns read with glee,
And too in their own personal affairs.
And it boils down to that one basic fact -
If you're in it's grand, and if out, bad luck -
And this mentality of exclusion
If fair or foul, results in tiers in life.
Those spheres that operate have tendency
To be established; fleet street journalists:
People who live on this or that estate:
Maybe a class of wealth: a wealth of class.
Whatever constitution, fact remains,
Outsider stays outsider (regardless):
Exerting pressure (even if it's great)
Is not about to move the social sphere.
Those in might say that they have earned their place,
And that those out so earned disfavoured state -
Such is the mechanism of elites;
Thus speaks self-serving rule without mandate.
Societies all have their rules and, yes,
You'll find them here, but with a twist of those
Social elites which makes for fun and games,
Exclusion, ridicule and pulling rank.
And these elites apply to low as high -
The local with an edge and so the Ritz -
In both there is a pecking order's rank
In both there's those with status - those without.
A high and wide conglomerate of clubs -
Find some or one where you're at home, you're in;
If you're asocial in society
Pray don't fall foul of exclusivity.

The liberty to do as you should wish
Is met as you would meet a welcome host
Whose grace permits, so too encourages,
Diverse enjoyments had on their account.
London invites and tempts you to indulge
And grants a well earned licence to enjoy -
Whichever appetite your stomach wills
You'll find an offered morsel which will sate.
The zenith of ascending liberty
Is choice, and Londoners have choice in choice -
In searching for a given land's cuisine
You'll find a part of town with ten restaurants.
A mug or cup of tea - one from a caf,
Or sweet patisserie or some café:
Tetley, Earl Grey or English Breakfast brew,
Chinese loose leaves or Japanese green tea.
Perhaps coffee; instant or filter fresh,
An espresso, babyccino for tots,
Cappuccino, machiato or black
(The liberty of Americano).
Urban nymph liberty has sweet sister:
Freedom - and Londoners are free to soar
(At times their only check would seem their purse)
To heights above imagination's arc.
As free to laugh, as free to play, as free
To work and ease and wile their fears away,
As free from censorship, as free from gross,
Ill-framed law, freedom of democracy.
Land of the free, admittedly elsewhere,
But London differentiates itself:
Here we are free to be ourselves, whilst there
Freedom's the millionaire they dream to be.
Although I intimated liberty's
Perhaps an attribute of wealth - London's
Is just as much an attribute of mind,
Here's found the source which keeps this freedom fresh.
Before all else a mind to watch their own,
A mind to guard their own from any type
Of harm or threat that might perchance appear:
A liberty through group's cohesive force.
One London rule is plain - don't interfere
In other's lives and in simple return
They will not interfere in yours - and this,
To each on equal footing, grants freedom.
Londoner's minds are free, possessing that
Firm liberty which rules their character -
This quality so too gives quantity
To fine aspects of proud community.

This London's liberty is hampered by
But one contradictory disadvantage:
For some the only checks to wild extremes
Are those ones put in place by will of self.
For well balanced majority these checks
Are sound, although London undoes the weak
Of mind with its unbounded liberty -
Why have one drink when five or six invite?
And its not that those weak of mind are full
And active in pursuit of their downfall -
Though that may seem to be the case - but yet
For some the fall's a passive fall from grace.
To give a passive reason to explain
The alcoholic state and lack of grace;
That shows facile avoidance - lazy thought;
No passive turn, that turn to alcohol.
Show me a gleeful drunk and I'll admit
We are not forced to falling through our woes -
Those weak of mind turn to a poor disguised
Solace, the most through stress, not passively.
And liberty is not a passive voice,
London encourages the weak of mind -
In that the solace that is sought is found,
Behaviour frowned upon but still allowed.
Solace on show, to say the least, diverse
And stays solace to those with strength of mind -
A pint's a pint as seen to average man:
But downfall to the alcoholic man.
I would not favour prohibition now,
And London's stance on this is liberty
(Or less than that) - but it is difficult
For those few prone to fall in times of stress.
But comprehend for some it must be like
Past - not distant - the differing centuries
When opiates were bought and sold without
Prescription for whatever wanted grounds.
This London liberty is more than some,
And less than some, and most would think the mix
Is right - although with hesitations made
I would agree with most that praise this town.
To save the weak of mind you'd need restrict
Majority to such degree that just
The basic liberties remained - this way
Is not the English way - none would support.
This liberty is gift of length of rope -
The weak of mind they hang themselves, without
They'd find another way - they put, the most,
The rope to other use, and raise a toast.

Despite what I have said I would not dream
To raise contention here - I love London,
And like all those in love, love none the less
For faults that I or others may discern.
This passion tempered by ill circumstance:
Afflicted by the family disease
I found welcoming roofs both sparse and racked
With harsh conflict - their precondition health.
I gravitated to the streets, too scared
To steal, too proud to beg, subsisting on
My benefits and Freedom Pass, preferred
Both beer and cigarettes to warmth and food.
The time was winter and my tireless mind
And London reached uneasy status quo -
My poor budgeting and excited state
Precluded stasis - dread asylum hailed.
Before that came to pass, I subsisted,
Not falling foul of London law, I saw
And lived aspects of London which complete
That broad landscape of it I now can view.
The time was not an even time and times
I rue, recall with dread and woe, and I
Antagonised both friends and family -
I hope that now I am a wiser man.
The time was not a sober time and though
Not foul of Metropolitan Police
I became unwelcome in many pubs -
I pray that I am more restrained today.
Experience was filtered at this time,
Refracted through an elevated mood -
Regardless, I was in proximity
With actualities obscure to some.
And then the streets of London took me in,
With blend of harsh strictness that's inherent,
And met the basics (whilst my mother shunned)
As their welcome did not require my health.
This way of life did not improve my mind,
But some with choice between a freedom and
That arbitrary incarceration that
Is bedlam, they might choose homeless freedom.
Many do - it's a choice that most don't face -
And some assume that bedlam's sanctuary -
I pray and hope that in future, as like
For most, I need not have to choose again.
Few pleasant memories or tales to tell
But I survived a time that could have felled,
London was, in this way, a friend in need,
By common definition, friend indeed.