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Stanley Collymore Poem
By Stanley Collymore
Never speak ill of the dead we’re constantly and solemnly
exhorted regardless of who they are or the life that
they freely chose to live, as they’re no longer
around, is the lame and unconvincing excuse
that’s often and dishonestly given in explanation, to rebut or
defend their name, any accusations or adverse criticisms,
however concrete or valid they might be, being made
against them; and in those circumstances therefore
to then embark on such a plan would in itself be
quite unbecoming while serving as nothing
more than a cheap and cowardly way of
attempting to exact one’s own revenge.
But hang on a moment, how truly valid is this
simplistic and supposedly moral exhortation; and why
should the intervention of death, distinct from any
other known phenomenon, be the sole exculpation for
someone’s life-long sins and premeditated wrongdoings
that disparagingly have callously, schemingly,
perniciously, quite methodically and comprehensively
destroyed the lives of so many who were
exclusively picked on and especially targeted for
reasons of dogmatic political ideology, or
those specifically and illogically
associated with their race
or ethnicity.
I was never a miner viewed as the country’s low-life and
thusmalevolently castigated as the enemy within, but
I am and have longstandingly been a proud trade
unionist whose movement just as
viciously by this self-centred,
venal and privileged elite was likewise tarred
with the same condemnatory brush and
scandalously branded the same.
Similarly, I was an anti-apartheid activist firmly
committed, as I always will be, to the noble concept
globally of the universality of human rights, equality
for all human beings and the ultimate eradication
of racism, tirelessly working also in tandem
for freedom of expression by everyone,
genuine democracy and the lawful and
moral right to withhold one’s labour,
and particularly so in manufactured industrial
disputes specifically designed to disrupt the cohesion,
deliberately break-up and ruthlessly destroy the
bargaining rights of all trade unions.
So why would I, or anyone else for that matter
with a social conscience, want to actually
eulogize and not rightly despise someone who,
while together with their husband was
profiting massively financially from South Africa’s
apartheid system, none the less perversely saw fit
to label Nelson Mandela a terrorist and roundly
vilify the ANC as a terrorist organization, while
astonishingly and without a modicum of regret
laud the architects of apartheid and the
ardent supporters of institutionalized
racism as the veritable champions of
what they deem as democracy?
Unless, of course, such individuals have short or convenient
memories and are themselves a complete abomination of what
society, which we were told by this woman doesn’t exist,
or come to that humanity should actually represent!
So I’ve no apologies to make or will I relent from
the stance I’ve taken because Death, inevitable
to us all, has finally, and some would
justifiably say, long-sufferingly and somewhat
kindly stepped in and brought the life of yet
another tyrant to its end. So feel free those of you
who want to eulogize or even dress yourself up
in sackcloth and ashes if you wish amidst your contrived beating
of chests and sorrowful refrains; but in doing so, I’d like for
you in your unrestrained orgy of engineered anguish
and false grief to jointly entreat you to abstain
from ever doing any of this in my name.
© Stanley V. Collymore
12 April 2013.
In the midst of life there is death the great leveller of us all. We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. So what doth it profit a man or woman if in their life time they gain all the riches of the world yet lose their soul for eternity? The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the Name of the Lord.
Copyright © Stanley Collymore | Year Posted 2013
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Stanley Collymore Poem
By Stanley Collymore
There’s more to parenting than being a mother
who, whether consciously or accidentally so,
conceives and subsequently delivers into
a world of uncertainty the helpless
infant she’s successfully carried
for its full term, with or minus
the physical presence, moral
or the financial support
of a biological father.
For true parenting primarily embodies
the inculcation of those essential values
which irrevocably prepare that once
fragile child for the robustness of
adulthood; and you Teri, tender
in years as evidently you are
yourself, seem to have
already detected and
truly mastered
that art!
© Stanley V. Collymore
5 January 2013.
Copyright © Stanley Collymore | Year Posted 2013
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Stanley Collymore Poem
By Stanley Collymore
At first I wasn’t in the least interested in you.
But then, why should I be? You, after all,
are an unmarried and out-of-work mum
just turned 23 and, additionally and
quite evidently in the general mix
of things and significantly for
me, the single parent to
a five year old son.
On the other hand I’m much older than
you; am mutually and longstandingly
divorced with no dependent
children to take care of or seriously
worry about as they’re all now adults in
their own right; and who furthermore
have voluntarily and with my full
blessing vacated their parental
home to creditably create
productive and very
successful lives
of their own.
Smoothing the progression to a relished and
even selfish situation on my part, as you
can clearly see, where I’m entirely
free without the obligatory
familial responsibilities
I previously had: challenging yet delightfully
rewarding as these were, to now possess
and thoroughly enjoy the satisfactory
and even perfect life I happily
have and can comfortably
as well afford to lead.
Or worst luck, were this not so, find myself
seductively entreated by and even possibly
succumbing to the unrelenting forces
of unwarranted encumbrances or
emotional complications, that were I not
to strictly maintain my vigilance or be
resolutely level-headed enough
concerning such matters that
realistically could disastrously affect me
romantically, emotionally or even financially
and thus proscribe my ability to pre-emptively
and resourcefully head them off before they step
in and, unfortunately for me, irreparably ruin
the solace, peace of mind and the general
contentment with life which I have,
would unquestionably, I must confess,
be nothing less than an out and
out major catastrophe!
So why then, other than by virtue of temporary
insanity, should I perversely risk any or all
that I’ve diligently worked for in life and
fortunately have for someone like you, who
moreover is half my age, has nothing comparable
in exchange to offer me, and whose personal life
at twenty three has only just begun – even though
it’s been copiously littered, fraught with and
punctuated by numerous contradictions,
life-changing mistakes: some of them avoidably
so but nevertheless dare-deviledly embarked
upon by you and thoughtlessly brought
upon yourself; or come to that
ill-judgements galore?
While in marked contrast my life: very organized,
considerably experienced and cerebrally thought
out, couldn’t be any more different from yours. And
while too, sensibly, pragmatically and using every
adjectival definition that I can think of to bolster
this opinion of you and confidently reassure
myself you’re undeniably the wrong
woman for me, why then is commonsense,
notwithstanding all this and with its characteristically
routine and punctiliously active participation in
everything that I do; now choosing instead
to deliberately take a backseat in this
singular confrontation between
my heart and my head?
© Stanley V. Collymore
7 April 2013.
Copyright © Stanley Collymore | Year Posted 2013
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Stanley Collymore Poem
By Stanley Collymore
If words are the trumpets of the mind and the
eyes the telescope of the heart could it be
that silent thoughts, transmitted yet not
openly disclosed, are the engine to
provide the start of what we
hope to find?
Like an elegant goddess borne loftily
on the stalwart wings of chance
you swept in unexpectedly
but oh so majestically
in a unique, feminine
ballet de dance –
your welcomed presence creating a
charming and exciting situation
replete with its own magical
and tempting expectations.
© Stanley V. Collymore
20 June 2001.
Copyright © Stanley Collymore | Year Posted 2013
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Stanley Collymore Poem
By Stanley Collymore
Ride the storm of challenge
And reap the whirlwind
Of success,
For the essence
Of character building
Is knowing how to define
What’s best.
© Stanley V. Collymore
12 July 2001.
Copyright © Stanley Collymore | Year Posted 2013
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