Pissing in his pocket.

It was just so apt.
Looking in from the outside.
The way was clear,
To me at least.
All these people getting 'soooo' upset,
And over nothing.
Where they blind, stupid?
Apparently.
But it was simple really.
All I had to do to remedy the intractable situation.
And get the immovable, moving.
Was....
'Piss in the right pocket!'

The fragility of the human ego

Frustrated tone of voice,
A sideways glance,
Some ill phrased words,
A simple misunderstanding,
So little to unbalance the delicate mechanism.
Retorts and recriminations,
Amplification and divisive speech,
All facilitate the formation,
Of gangs and factions,
Busy isolating and excluding,
Their status quo, and standing are retained.
As the tall poppies are cut down,
By lesser creatures,
Those on the edge watch on and ponder,
The purpose of it all.

Human Frailty

In defeat you witness the agony of human frailty,
It can be subtle.
A gesture,
Or glassiness of eye.
A litany of excuses.
The blame game begins.
A gathering together of sympathetic allies,
Who can reassure and take their side,
Against their own weakness.
That inability to withstand attacks on the ego.
Or accept the loss of face.
That is their agony.
The avoidance of the unpalatable truth.