RRRBBQDay2014_046The theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “Vanity“.


Good afternoon Jon, and greetings, once again, from Coventry.

End of a big week, I attended my first ever Test Match at Edgbaston on Thursday, England versus Pakistan, the most entertaining and attacking moment occurred during the lunch break when they rolled the pitch.

For some reason, the locals have been taking great delight in telling me how crap the Australian Cricket Team is at the moment, as if I give a stuff.

I remind them, they sent Australia their convicts and we sent them Fosters – we got by far the better deal.

Anyway, to the theme at hand, Vanity.

One of my favourite quotes comes from 19th century French author George Sand. She noted “Vanity is the quicksand of reason”

I think that quote should be framed and hung on the wall of the Senate in Canberra.

Perhaps, even the wall of Studio One at RRR.
Did I say that? That’s vanity for you


To play this poem directly in your browser – just click the “play” button below:

Vanity

A son was born to Wolf and Glad
By all accounts a healthy lad

Cause enough for celebrations
But they had higher expectations

Their child, they crowed, by far the best
Superior, to all the rest

Smarter, faster, better bred
“Better looking” so they said

“A prince” they beamed “descended on us”
They named their perfect spawn “Adonis”

They catered to his every whim
Chose to live their lives through him

They fawned over their tiny sprat
Who grew to a precocious brat

A sociopath: arrogant, vain
An ego larger than his brain

Self obsessed more than self aware
Picture Donald Trump with better hair

Believing all his parents hype
Adonis soon conformed to type

Mirrors covered every wall
Bedroom, kitchen, lounge and hall

Oil paintings, stark and lewd
Of he, himself; all in the nude

He’d record, hour on hour
Singing love songs in the shower

Play them back, as night drew deep
Lullaby himself to sleep

Adonis found full time employment
Blending hard work with enjoyment

Managing his own physique
There weren’t enough hours in the week

Body sculpting, Brazillian waxing
Fulfilling work, at times quite taxing

He’d hug himself; a warm caress
And marvel at his faultlessness

His parents died one New Year’s Eve
He sheduled half an hour to grieve

He couldn’t make the funeral though
He’d booked to have a cut and blow

One thirst Adonis could not sate
A strong desire to find a mate

None stood up to close inspection
Always some slight imperfection

Posture, teeth, bowed legs, left handed
None could meet his stringent standard

“There’s only one for me” he cried
And took himself to be his bride

Here’s a thought to make you swoon
What happened on their honeymoon?

Still, he’d finally found the perfect match
Both considered quite a catch

Neither had to change their name
Likes and dislikes, all the same

Spoke honestly in all their dealings
Considerate of each others feelings

Cheating, they were disinclined
As each could read the others mind

They never tired of conversation
True love grew from infatuation

Every breath and moment shared
It was obvious they truly cared

Till one night he caught him snoring
“God, he thought” he sounds so boring

One half of him wanted kids
The relationship was on the skids

Both of them became depressed
“He not happy” him confessed

His ego suffered silently
“I am not as good as me”

This conflict near destroyed his health
He reluctantly divorced himself

Though the two said “Adios”
Still the pair remain quite close

“When we split” he swells with pride
“I got the left, my better side”

No longer vain, more retiring
Describes himself as ‘self admiring’

Ex-lovers can become good friends
Here, thank God, our story ends

© Copyright 2016 Ian Bland


Also have a listen to the songs on “Angel In Reverse

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