I belong to the 'seen and not heard' generation when 'real men' ruled. It was an odd age where sharing or discussing a way through life was considered unmanly. The 'John Wayne' generation, where everybody was a hard nut and gun slinger and fighting was the solution to every problem. 'Real' men would watch you trip and enjoy the fall to sense superiority. "That will teach you" the usual comment, post the pain of a mishap. A wee poem to reflect on this age.
SILENCE
There was an age of cruelty, peculiar in its way
when withholding information was the order of the day
to punish seemed the reason for all that lay around
the up and coming generation needed pounded to the ground
“I fought in the war for scum like you”….a crib so oft to hear
a drunken lunge, a vengeful kick…. and threats designed for fear
was it jealousy of newfound youth, or the desire to just demean
or human cruelty thinly masked?... regardless its obscene
The wisdom was of the years withheld….for superior position
to gloat on failure or mistakes …regardless of attrition
“am a real man of this world… whose seen it all ye see
and tae share it with a lad like you…wid seem a waste tae me”
Hey joe..your Tam is in that garden hut with that leaking petrol can
a box of grenades from grandads war and a dodgy electric fan
there’s matches and cut throat razor…rusted and long since used
a well filled seeping parifin lamp and a bomb fuse long abused
Theres a pint of paraquat…in a bottle used for lemonade
one gulp from that …the boy is deed …hey Joe? are you no afraid
“leave him be, he needs tae learn …in witever way it takes
and just like me, he’s got tae know… how tae learn from his mistakes”.