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A night in Mixát (1/6/24)

Standup is difficult –

As a potential comedian it’s all about hope

As a drunk indulger, it’s about hope too

But it’s usually beyond hope

Hopeless

And maybe I’m too harsh;

(I’ve been onstage afterall)

But in fairness

Tonight I witnessed a guy

Who had jokes,

Have no jokes,

And get a laugh:

It’s really all about crowd

But in truth

It’s all about fear

And there was nothing honest.

People complained

But they, none of them, had the balls

To blame themselves

Like a bunch of whingey, whiney undergrads

They proclaimed some discontent

They even dared involve colour

Yes you’re brown but you’ve never been black

Being rich you’ve never been down

Ten to a room

But with an education

Trumps one hundred rooms

But destitute, in desperation.

If it wasn’t race it was gender

And I’m sure in all respects

All that mattered was that they

Yes they were the innocents

The victims

And my tears did fall

Not because of the stories that unfolded

But because I was witnessing the downfall

Of comedy –

Self-indulgence has overrun truth

Yes it takes two to tango

I wish people understood what that really meant.

© The Hairy Teacher, 1/6/24

Like father like son
The coupled inheritance
The straight road home
Forever lost –
For never after.
The sway and stagger
Mapped out memory
Sometimes a storyline
Sometimes an emptiness.
The youth takes point
The aged no longer
Today as yesterday
Tomorrow too.
The patterns drawn
The models mimicked
The splintered eye
Remains untouched.
The saints stagnated
The devils drunk
Prometheus freed
From a bound humanity.

© The Hairy Teacher, 8th September, 2020, 18:16 a Bravos bárban, Kaszásdűlő

Klaus in foolish folly –
For what other?
Selling more than
the trinkets he’d receive.
Martin understanding
Yet surrendering
Wrapped in fine excuses
In exchange.
One sees the other
And dares judgement
While others too
And onwards down the line.
Selling out
And buying in
Are not dissimilar –
Retaining our hypocrisy
In the end.
A daughter’s words
That paint an anguish
Not believed
Calling out the adult world
Till told „shut up”.
At least a lesson taught
That was learned well;
She lets no silence
For herself to breach.
Challenging the ire then
Moving up higher then
There is hope
But teenage years lie in between.
The peer factory
That factors fears right in
A system built on
Rebellious rigidity.

© The Hairy Teacher, 7th September, 2020, 18:15kb a HÉV-en