The Portrait of the Poetaster as a Man - Book IX - Friendlessness

He didn't make connections that are clear
Between imperialism and war,
To talk to him you'd think he thought the two
Were separate entities, one justified.
I cannot understand his point of view
It seems he does not mean the things he says,
His stance is ludicrous, a source of fun
If it's indeed the case he's serious.
The only thing I think, is that he's mad,
A camel short of forming caravan,
He cannot claim a left-wing attitude
And show no opposition to the war.
It's like a green who votes for industry,
A plain hypocrisy is brought to mind,
It seems as if he lacks the consciousness
That you and I have won with graft and slog.
It's like a pacifist who votes for war,
A virgin screwing for virginity,
A unionist who wants his wage controlled,
A socialist who takes his boss's side.
And I suppose you're right to put him down
His attitude's effete and laughable,
He's claiming bold as brass that black is white
Next he may state the world knows liberty.
And if I felt the touch of charity
I'd say we're dealing with an idiot,
Someone whose comprehension does prevent,
Someone who needs experience of life.
I've seen his stuffing bursting at the seams,
It shows his brains and sure he's losing them,
Your charity might make some sense of it
Perhaps at heart he's just a common fool.
It's not a case of dealing with the sane,
The contradictions glare in any light,
In such a way he lacks lucidity,
He even takes no note of ridicule.
I catch your drift, perhaps he's lost the plot,
Perhaps the causal ground's organic here,
And that's the reason he's reactionary,
Plays dumb regarding such a simple point.
In truth I'll say, the man must be a loon,
There's not a choice of ways to think of it,
There's not another reason could explain
His total lack of any common sense.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
Perhaps to others, source of merriment,
I hide my glimmer and I'm ignorant.

I must have said it time and time again
It is impossible he can't of heard
If I was wishing to repeat myself
I'd try to find some job which paid me to.
He seemed a little slow, I'll give you that,
Perhaps he tried to make a point in jest;
Though I've suggested that, I have to say,
That any point he made was lost on me.
A point? If repetition were a point
Then yes the man conversed and more than most ...
To talk like that the only reason known,
That springs to mind, is that he's barking mad.
I wouldn't tar and feather him just yet,
There might be reason for the things he said,
Maybe he has interest in what you say,
Things over and above what's plain to see.
Motives ulterior! Don't make me laugh!
There's next to nothing strange in what I said,
Why would he want what's normal on repeat,
Why ask again when there's no reason to?
I'm starting now to see your point of view,
It was quite normal what you chose to say,
It's just he forced you to reiterate
And that without the slightest hint of cause.
The cause: the fact that he is barking mad;
If I were to converse with idiots
I'd find myself a place where they are helped
And salve my conscience giving aid to them.
But as I try just getting by in life
And I am not a psychiatric nurse,
I can expect the company I keep
Stays free of cognitive deficiencies.
You're hard on him and I'm not sure it's fair,
Why don't you cut the man a bit of slack,
It's not as if he caused direct offence
It's more by oversight if anything.
Maybe you're right, I'm being hard on him,
Perhaps he didn't hear, perhaps he's deaf,
And what is likely, that he's not on form,
It's everyone can have unpleasant days.
Just take it with a generous pinch of salt,
Take little notice of offence he's caused -
Next time I'd wager it goes differently,
Next time perhaps he might apologise.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
I have a memory that's like a sieve
Expressed another way - inattentive.

For half an hour he didn't say a word
Refused to utter anything at all,
A vow of silence might explain the fact
If you ignored few words he'd spoke before.
More like someone removed his frontal lobes
To listen saying nothing shows a want
Of common decency, the man was lost,
He didn't even nod approvingly.
Perhaps just like you say, the man was lost
Maybe he found himself beyond his depth,
Ignoring any explanations made
He seemed confused what powers of speech are for.
How can it be that he's beyond his depth?
We talked of actors and of actresses
Their fame precedes the mention of their name
He'd have to live a well secluded life.
You'd be surprised, there's some that isolate,
But nonetheless the conversation moved:
He didn't move with it - he stayed silent -
Much like a nodding dog that didn't nod.
He must be out his depth on everything
It's that or there is something wrong with him
I'm sure someone's removed his frontal lobes
That or an accident has hurt his head.
They say that he was married more than once
I wonder what on earth he said to them
He must have said a word or two at least
To make them think that he was suitable.
He'd have to win the lottery for me,
There's something to be said for silent types
But those that have superiority
And not the one's appearing scared to talk.
I'm lost in looking for the sense of it,
We started chatting, he conversed with us,
He spoke of university and books
But at one point he simply shut his mouth.
My world is best without the likes of him
The end effect is talking to a wall,
I'd get more sense communing with my plants,
More conversation from a plank of wood.
And I suppose you're right to criticise,
He is to blame, it sounds ridiculous
But he should simply learn to say something
Instead of making others feel awkward.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
If simple reason's not impertinence
I cause offence, moreover, through silence.

That metaphor he gave, a slip of tongue,
Revealing what was really on his mind,
It showed a certain want of grace and charm
To marry normal words with gutter filth.
I think I know the turn of phrase you mean
And I'd agree that it's beyond the pale,
You'd wonder where he learnt to talk like that
He delved to depths I've seldom seen explored.
His words were like the unexpected form
Which floats below the wave at Brighton Pier
And waits, surprising guests who come to swim,
Just catching sight's enough to wreck the day.
Comparison to piece of excrement,
Beware! you are almost on his level,
I see the argument you're making out
But watch the pot that calls the kettle black.
OK, his words were like a shower of rain
That falls some summers day when it is warm
And spoils the joy of summer shine for all,
And wets and dampens fun that's to be had.
So you can be both fair and foul to him
I can't see why you come across upset,
You're not a stranger to obscenities,
So what's the line dividing you from him?
There are a million ways to look at it,
To start with, what's intended sheds a light:
The times I swear I'm meaning to offend,
He's not aware of words that leave his mouth.
If I agree with that, it would follow
That an insult meant causes less offence;
Somehow if it intends to break a bone
The end result is less insult not more.
Almost, but try to think of reasons first,
I know when I'll offend, I am aware,
And that will make me shut my mouth at times,
He'll just ignore all sense of tact and grace.
Yes, saying that, I see your point of view
The worse remained outside of what he said,
It was complete and total lack of tact
That put the fancy icing on the cake.
And what he said was better left unsaid
And furthermore, I'm not sure, but I think,
He didn't quite intend to cause offence,
Although I'd easily be wrong on that.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
I'd like to learn to be more moderate,
As I present as inappropriate.

You'll be my witness, how he spoke of Dan,
You'd think him judge and jury on the world,
You'd think he was a perfect specimen
To hear him putting down poor Dan like that.
I wasn't ever introduced to Dan
But I mistrust when someone vents their spleen,
Such words reflect more on the one who speaks
Than paint a picture of the man described.
I know the Dan that he lashed out against
And you're quite right not trusting what he said
In what he's stating he exaggerates,
That, if indeed, he doesn't tell a lie.
I'd speak like that of my worst enemy
And on a day I wasn't mincing words,
Dan must have heavily offended him
For him to speak with such acidity.
The way you say those things, I get confused,
It's just I thought that he and Dan were friends,
I know Dan's done him favours in the past
And has defended him against himself.
If that's the case I don't know what to think,
And if he talks like that about his friends
What slander would he make of you or me,
When this was shown and with friendship's restraint.
It's fair to say he's acted otherwise,
He has repaid some favours owed to Dan,
But saying that it doesn't grant the right
To run Dan down the way he did just then.
And I would say he hasn't got the right!
If someone chose to speak of me like that
Without a reason (something I had said)
It wouldn't rest so easily with me.
I know you thought him harsh but in this case
He didn't say a thing that's new to me;
We know he's got some problems with his soul
Perhaps they flare with waxing of the moon.
I can't but like you for your charity:
It could have been a symptom or a sign,
But still my generosity extends
Towards the one who's wronged in this: to Dan.
Dan's in the right, offence is in the wrong:
But ask the same next week of him who wronged,
You'd get a different answer, that is clear:
And if he did I'd put it down to drink.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
I try to stifle what I learnt early:
Against my better side - derogatory.

And did you notice how he changed the gist
Of conversation time and time again
And chose to speak of his experience
When what we talked of dealt with something else.
Sure, yes, I talked about when I was raised
And had explained how hard it was at school
He took no notice launching some tirade
Of troubles he had known when he was young.
You'd think he chased the prize for worst of woes,
And made his aim to trump what you had said;
Such thoughts leave conversation in the lurch,
He doesn't give, he's trying to compete.
Competing, that's exactly where he's at,
I was explaining that daily hardship
That made my life become a misery,
And he explained his woes as worse than mine.
If ten are murdered in North Africa
The fact that ten have parted from this life
Does not deprive a single death at home
Of what it is - an awful tragedy.
The conversation didn't deal with him
It's not for him to turn the thing around
How would things stand were we to speak divorce
Is his the worst that people ever saw?
Exactly for that given reason there
I wouldn't like to talk with him on that,
In fact there's many themes I would avoid
Because of what he'd find utmost in mind.
He said the same on disability
Ask Anne, she said to me the other day,
He tried to say he suffered worse than most
Despite the fact he's in remission now.
It all relates to him and him alone,
I'd say he's wearing mirrored spectacles
Reflecting only his view of himself,
He lives a world devoid of others' views.
Described that way I might well pity him,
Perhaps his failing is beyond control,
He might not wish to act as bad as that,
If someone took the time to talk to him ... ?
I'd save your pity, that man loves himself
Maybe expressed in little roundabouts
But that's the cause of it and he won't change,
You'd better leave him talking to himself.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
Perhaps I need to give myself a kick
I refer to I, I'm egocentric.

I've never heard a play list that's so short,
If repetition gained a loving prize
Then he would rule his harem well and good,
And everyone would bow to things said thrice.
OK, so he repeats himself at times,
And I'd not join his harem, there you're right,
We've all been known to tell a story twice
Is he not just the same as you and me?
The major difference is that things moved on,
We talked of what was in the news this week,
And though he may have had a point at first
His boring replays hindered what we said.
Oh, interfered with what you said, poor thing,
You talk enough to make a donkey lame,
And you are hindered as you spout hot air,
Perhaps you'd like to register complaint?
Whoa, I don't need to take these jibes from you,
Remember that we speak of him not me
I know it's easier for you to turn
On lucidness, but he was being lame.
I know I shouldn't be attacking you,
Apologies, but I can't see the wrong
In saying something over and again
If that's the contribution he can make.
That's just the point, ask what he contributes,
If it's the case there's nothing he can say
Then he should keep a buttoned lip on it,
Not interrupt at times he's out his depth.
Because he doesn't know so much as some
You're of the view that he should shut his mouth,
To talk about democracy with you
Is likely talking votes to autocrats.
You take his side on that as well I see,
He knew one fact and that was all he knew,
Then gave it parrot fashion from his beak
Despite the fact the conversation moved.
I've seen your conversation plunge and die,
Perhaps a little less the monologue,
And introduce some dialogue, and then,
You just might find a place for what he said.
Tosh, it is clear he didn't know a thing,
He didn't understand the first of it,
To talk to him you'd think the world was flat
And that's how far he grasps reality.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
Through idleness my former stronghold's stormed,
The end result is that I'm uninformed.

Now there's a man needs putting in his place
If it's not me, there's many others would;
And that reaction comes as guaranteed -
He only needs to talk like that again.
It made me laugh to lead him on like that,
He wasn't certain when he started out
But I encouraged him with what I said,
Agreed with him to make him lose the plot.
It's not a laughing matter, things like that,
You should be careful what you say to him,
I think the man's a nutter, just watch out
I've seen things evener than this go wrong.
Come on! it's just a bit of harmless sport
The man is thinking that he's got some class
When it's as clear as day he's doolally,
I am allowed to have some fun and games.
No one would want to stop you playing games
And it's not hard to see your sport in it
It's just I'd like to tell him plain and clear
And not for you to go and egg him on.
Do that and you're just spoiling all the fun
When he was buying what I said to him,
He lapped it up and took in every word
The man was thinking that I thought him smart.
The man's a idiot and you'd agree
And for some reason I don't understand
He seems to think he's better placed to judge
And set the world to rights when he's just nuts.
You start to see the whole beauty in it:
The lunatic who's better than the world,
The man who'll sort anybody's problem
The man who's not at home in his own head.
I am half seeing what you're getting at
It's funny in a twisted sort of way,
I'm meaning funny strange and not ha ha,
With that, I'd save my laughs for comedy.
Trust me, he could be on the telly him,
He hasn't got a clue, and still looks down
His nose as if he were some kind of lord:
The whole of it is comedy to me.
And if it makes you laugh, then more's the fun,
Though if you get your joy from lunatics
Watch yourself that you're not on their level,
Beware you're not too close for comfort's sake.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
And fair compared I am inferior,
Why do I feign to be superior?

And who was he to say who'll save the earth,
To list environmental damage caused
By others, he's no eco-warrior
It's just the case he's on restricted means;
But saying that his arguments aren't flawed,
You can't deny that you and I drive cars
And that he doesn't, not consuming oil;
It is a simple fact you can't get round.
Environmental reasons, my fat arse,
The only reason that he doesn't drive
Is that he hasn't passed his driving test
And that he has been drunk for twenty years.
Then wrong just motivates him towards right,
You should be kind enough to give him that;
If everybody used public transport
The end result reduces greenhouse gas.
OK, it's for the good he doesn't drive,
That hardly means he's got the given right
To ram his trite opinions down my throat
And say he's better than the rest of us.
You're on a loser there - he's got a point;
There's many driving cars and voting Green,
There'd be a change if people didn't drive,
Although I'm not the one to give it up.
I'm going to have to repeat myself
It's just the case he's on restricted means;
I need my car for work - there is no bus,
I need my car to take the kids to school.
And then we need to pump those million tonnes
Of CO2 into the atmosphere;
Ignoring reasons, still he doesn't drive,
If all could manage that, then for the best.
And so, if we were poor, there'd be less cars;
He's some model of inactivity;
And that which goes for him won't go for me;
And it annoys me that he says it will.
I'm in two minds, he did get self-assured,
But still I'd like to think you can compare,
Perhaps you're right in saying that you can't,
If that's the case he shouldn't praise himself.
And that's the thing in it that I dislike,
You can't compare and that is what he does
And makes it out that I am worse than him
And claims the moral high ground when he's wrong.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
My thoughts can stray and get both vacuous
And grandiose, I turn presumptuous.

He wore a wedding ring, God bless her soul,
I pity his poor wife, how he won her
I'll never know, and if she gave her heart
I know the words she'll use if wiser now:
She would he send her long strayed eyes to her
That (Oh) too long have dwelt on him; yet since
They learned such odd fashions and false passions,
Are made no good for sight, him keep them still.
She would he send her harmless heart again
Which no unworthy thought could stain; but if
He's taught it to make jest of her protest,
And cross both word and oath, him keep it still.
Yet she would have sent back her heart and eyes
That she may know and see his lies; and laugh,
And joy, when he's in anguish, languishes
For one who'll prove as strange as he is now.
I pity her 'n' all, the meaning changed
She is self traitor bringing spider love,
And with it transubstantiating all,
And converting sweetest manna to gall.
You took the words right out my mouth on that,
You never know just where you are with love,
I know you fall for who you fall, but that!
Returning to his wife I know it's said:
That as all individual souls contain
An admixture of things, they know not what,
So then love, these mixed souls, doth mix again,
And makes from both the one, each this and that.
As with a single violet transplant,
As with the strength, the colour, and the size,
(The each of which before was poor, and scant)
Which then redoubles still, and multiplies.
And then when love, with one another so
Interinanimates those separate souls
That abler soul which out of that doth flow,
Any defects of loneliness controls.
You'd get defectiveness to know his soul,
The union bred would be one fringed with odd,
Perhaps he's got a hidden point or two
That said I still have pity on his wife.
I'll say, the man is odd, the man is strange,
He's like a peg that doesn't fit a hole,
But saying that and having looked I'll swear
Nowhere exists a man who's true and fair.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
And these subtle differences may be feared,
Idiosyncrasies are marked as weird.

And he suggests a cure for every ill,
It's like he stood above and held the scales
And knew the right and wrong of everyone
And made pronouncements large and small alike.
I'm kind of seeing what you're getting at
But doesn't everybody try to solve,
Attempt to lighten, other people's woes:
He isn't doing more than you or me.
Yeah, but I see the matter differently,
When you and I go offering advice
We're on a level, he is looking down,
It's attitude that marks him off from us.
You're more persuasive of the two of us,
He has the right to offer his advice,
But shouldn't dish it out as Moses did;
As if he's even sorted his own life!
The same as anyone and everyone
He's got the granted right to criticise
But not along the lines of lord and serf,
Not with his elevated attitude.
He does the same as you or me would do
Although in doing it another way
He always manages to cause offence
Where you or me evoke some sympathy.
That, and the way he puts himself across,
I don't know which one's worse, his attitude,
Or what he says, and though I'm hating both,
The former and the latter must be linked.
But saying that there have been times at which
We've all promoted selves (with lager's stars)
Above our station and at times were full
Of condescension for the world at large.
Then I would let him off the hook a bit,
I thought the man was only drinking coke,
Although perhaps he'd had a drink or two
Though that just means he doesn't mix with beer.
No, he's teetotal, he was drinking coke,
Regardless, you and I have been that bad,
And grant him sober what you're granted drunk:
A willingness to see things differently.
I never get as bad as than when drunk,
The thing is his superiority,
His readiness to say what's for the best
When it is clear he doesn't understand.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
And I should think those thoughts that fit my size
And in my state I mustn't patronise.

He didn't have to ask me more than once,
He knew the subject was a tender one,
He must have known I would become upset,
He must have known exactly what he said.
Before you send him down without a trial
Remember he's a step below perfect,
And just as you and me he has his faults
Although, he has perhaps more grounds than most.
'He has perhaps more grounds', I disagree,
Put straight, if you converse in company
There is a book of rules to be obeyed
By everyone partaking, not just some.
I've known him years, it's just the way he is,
You shouldn't take offence from simple things
Where none is meant, he doesn't do these things
Intending any injury to you.
No one except you and your loyalties
Would care the slightest hoot about intent,
The man offended me, he chose a theme
He knew was touchy, went and steamrollered.
If that's the light you want to put it in -
The man and social skills are misnomers,
And it's for you to realise the fact
And show a little sympathy to him.
He gets sympathy on apology:
My enemy would turn the knife like that,
He shouldn't mould social conversation
To an analysis of my sore points.
I have defended him as much I can,
I have to say that he's offended you,
I guess it's just I'm used to it myself
And you are in the right to be outraged.
And that I am, but what's the man's motive?
Why's he deliver such unpleasantness?
Where is the reason for his lack of grace
And what's the ground he chose to pick on me?
I've said I'd like to be inside his head
(Although I'll put my turns of speech aside)
I think I know the reasons for his lapse
That doesn't mean I'm able to explain.
It makes no sense to me, how can someone
Ignore a person's feelings just like that,
You'd think it open season on my hurt
Or that he has a total lack of tact.
Were they to need to talk, they might talk thus,
And pose the question what my motives are;
This learnt so young that it's almost passive
Against my better will - insensitive.