.
Second Chances
Just know that you’ve been staked a second chance
At any time the future’s looking muddy.
Put on your shoes and socks, and join the dance.
Don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth, askance,
Pretending you can’t work for anybody
Who thinks you’ve not been staked a second chance.
As nimble as a cancan girl from France,
Our dancer is the devil’s understudy,
Who put on shoes and socks, and joined the dance.
Attempt to keep your junk inside your pants,
Though everyone you see is acting slutty,
And know that you’ve been staked a second chance.
It’s always possible to find romance,
Unless you are a backward fuddy-duddy
Who puts on shoes but never joins the dance.
The swaying dancers put you in a trance,
And you’re as mutable as Silly Putty.
Just know that you’ve been staked a second chance:
Take off your shoes and socks, and join the dance.
.
.
Just Sayin’
Don’t test our will—
We shoot to kill!
*
‘Tis better to kick ass
Than ever to lick ass.
*
As long as ravings from the Woke disgust us,
Let mercy never overshadow justice.
*
An eye paid for an eye, a penny for the truth:
The world beneath the sky is ruled by claw and tooth.
*
The mopes who can’t get out of their own way
Will struggle to move forward every day.
*
Regardless of how fast or slow it is,
Few pleasures satisfy like coitus.
*
Show evenhandedness in everything you do—
You don’t need enemies, your enemies need you.
.
.
C.B. Anderson was the longtime gardener for the PBS television series, The Victory Garden. Hundreds of his poems have appeared in scores of print and electronic journals out of North America, Great Britain, Ireland, Austria, Australia and India. His collection, Mortal Soup and the Blue Yonder was published in 2013 by White Violet Press.
The villanelle is delightful, not least because of the unusual B rhyme. It must have taken quite a bit of thought to round up six of them, and work them into the argument! Some of the phrasing in this poem is striking, unexpected, and hysterically funny:
“Our dancer is the devil’s understudy…”
“Attempt to keep your junk inside your pants…”
“Though everyone you see is acting slutty…”
“And you’re as mutable as Silly Putty…”
The devil, genitalia, sex, and Silly Putty — wow, what a combo!
Also, the gradual reversal of “Put on your shoes” to “Take off your shoes” whips things up into a frenzy that goes along perfectly with the central image of “the dance,” which I take to be metaphor for life itself. I am reminded of some lines from one of the Alice In Wonderland books: “Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?”
The second poem is a feisty little collection of solid home truths. And I’ve never seen “coitus” rhymed before. Kip’s choice of “it is” is all of a sudden obvious, like the egg of Columbus.
Well, Joseph, as it turned out, I left behind a number of rhymes for the middle line of each tercet, e.g., “cruddy,” “bloody,” “ruddy” & “nutty.” the key is that “T” and “D” are, for these purposes, the same consonant, one unvoiced and the other voiced.
But what the hell is “the egg of Columbus?”
Once at a festive gathering, Columbus was speaking about the voyages that had led his ships westward, and of the many discoveries and conquests that followed therefrom.
Some snotty, envious person said “Well, if you hadn’t done it, surely somebody else sooner or later would have made a name for himself in the same way. It could have been done by anyone.”
Columbus picked up a hard-boiled egg still in its eggshell. He asked this person (or anyone else present) to make the egg stand up on its small end on the flat table top, and to do it without any external aid, such as using a small mound of salt, or by leaning the egg on some other fixed object.
No one had any idea how to do it.
When they all confessed their inability, Columbus simply picked up the egg and brought it down hard on the table top, smashing the small end so that it become flat. The egg stood there straight, standing on its small end.
Columbus then said: “As you all can see, any loudmouth can do something after somebody else has shown him how to do it.”
That’s “the egg of Columbus.” It’s the perfect response to pathetic losers who look at your work and say “Well, I could have done that too.”
A great tale, Joe, which I hadn’t heard before, and you are right: sometimes you just have to crush it.
Sometimes you just have to crush it
In order to make the end flat,
While forcing your critics to “hush it.”
A classic display of “that’s that.”
Nice stuff and well put, C.B. Like Joseph, I was struck and impressed with how you moved the villanelle forward by slightly altering the repeated lines along the way. I have seen you do this before, but never with such good effect as you have done here.
As for adages, I have done many of them myself. It is fun to do and it is surprising how easily they can, at times, seemingly fall out of one’s pen.
Keep it up, C.B. As usual, I’m hungry for more.
Thank you, James. It’s always nice when someone tells me a poem I wrote was worth reading, especially if that person is someone whose writings are always worth reading.
And yes, adages almost seem to come with the ink, but one needs to be quick.
A great poem, C.B., it reminds me of a quote from my favourite philosopher, Nietzsche, “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music”. So many people never hear the music.
And, Drilon, there are many ways to be insane.
Excellent work: not sure what lines I like the most but the profound general truth of: ‘Regardless of how fast or slow it is,
Few pleasures satisfy like coitus.’ takes some beating!
If God really wanted us to be fruitful and multiply, then this general truth was an absolute necessity, the central truth of the preservation of legacy.
Not bad for a Fuddy Duddy… 😉
To comment on your exchange with Sale, we could multiply more if not for the post-coitus Silly Puddy.
The villanelle is deftly executed, and I echo Dr. Salimi’s thoughts about the rhyme. It’s a whirlwind, but doesn’t stray from its central point, which is an important lesson in life (inspired by Mr Trump maybe?)
The aphorisms are witty and humorous.
For me , Adam, the funny thing is that none of the stanzas were enjambed — so unlike me.
If aphorisms are not witty and humorous, then they are probably not aphorisms
I love villanelles and for this one, my favorite thing was the resourcefulness with which you handled the “muddy” rhyme. My second favorite thought presented here was:
“Show evenhandedness in everything you do—
You don’t need enemies, your enemies need you.”
It’s a very tough standard to meet, but it’s the right one.