I'm planning to submit this one to a magazine soon, but it's not quite up to scratch yet. Feel free to pick it apart, offer constructive criticism, tell me what's working and what isn't - don't hold back!
Charisma
When was the last time you
faked
charisma?
Were you wasted?
Profiling your interests for a dating site?
(“wild parties, unhinged picnics,
balloon sculpture”)
Sometimes making a fake is a waste,
like breaking a lake
or trying to pick up in a pickup.
Sometimes language is a loser
and dejected hacks are behind everything
like right now in this country,
so conned and immobilised.
I know, you don’t want to talk politics,
but fuck!
Basically charisma is hard to get,
so if you’re faking it
let me remind you:
even the sky lies.
(hope that’s some kind of consolation)
I mean
what can things mean?
I give up, what?
Is it easier to be a ‘fun person’
when everything looks meaningless?
Some days I deflate, wonder
(is it just me?) whether
everything queuing to be heard / seen / read
is not worth knowing,
cannot be swallowed.
All this
wasted content.
But there’s beauty in the
city’s hip highflyers,
confident sleep of Tibetan monks,
sham squabbles that end
in consensual climax –
a charismatic beauty.
After all,
charisma derives from the
Greek kharisma, “divine
favour”.
The way we are a couple of days
after peaking on MDMA
is the opposite of charisma:
our faces deserted,
all but the most animal
entertainment fails;
all is lost
until found again.
We resort to re-heating
leftover charisma,
find it’s hard to conserve
through cold corridors,
fluorescent-bled office,
files fat with complaints.
(I think blind officeworkers
are very lucky compared to
their sighted peers.
They don’t catch the protesting
eyes, carcinogens, under-
appreciation, murderous
décor).
My manager wears charisma
like headdress feathers
of an Indian Chief
that I see reflected on my monitor
while he peers, arms folded, behind me.
Meanwhile, in another corner of hyperspace,
charisma is
leaking everywhere
in the gym.
(c) Stu Hatton 2006
http://wordyness.blogspot.com/2006/03/charisma-2006.html
Charisma
When was the last time you
faked
charisma?
Were you wasted?
Profiling your interests for a dating site?
(“wild parties, unhinged picnics,
balloon sculpture”)
Sometimes making a fake is a waste,
like breaking a lake
or trying to pick up in a pickup.
Sometimes language is a loser
and dejected hacks are behind everything
like right now in this country,
so conned and immobilised.
I know, you don’t want to talk politics,
but fuck!
Basically charisma is hard to get,
so if you’re faking it
let me remind you:
even the sky lies.
(hope that’s some kind of consolation)
I mean
what can things mean?
I give up, what?
Is it easier to be a ‘fun person’
when everything looks meaningless?
Some days I deflate, wonder
(is it just me?) whether
everything queuing to be heard / seen / read
is not worth knowing,
cannot be swallowed.
All this
wasted content.
But there’s beauty in the
city’s hip highflyers,
confident sleep of Tibetan monks,
sham squabbles that end
in consensual climax –
a charismatic beauty.
After all,
charisma derives from the
Greek kharisma, “divine
favour”.
The way we are a couple of days
after peaking on MDMA
is the opposite of charisma:
our faces deserted,
all but the most animal
entertainment fails;
all is lost
until found again.
We resort to re-heating
leftover charisma,
find it’s hard to conserve
through cold corridors,
fluorescent-bled office,
files fat with complaints.
(I think blind officeworkers
are very lucky compared to
their sighted peers.
They don’t catch the protesting
eyes, carcinogens, under-
appreciation, murderous
décor).
My manager wears charisma
like headdress feathers
of an Indian Chief
that I see reflected on my monitor
while he peers, arms folded, behind me.
Meanwhile, in another corner of hyperspace,
charisma is
leaking everywhere
in the gym.
(c) Stu Hatton 2006
http://wordyness.blogspot.com/2006/03/charisma-2006.html
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