Writer’s Revenge #1


In a world that passes judgement
on people for what they do,
which labels by occupation,
it cannot understand
the philosophy of ‘To Be’.
One was never good
at God and Games
and took the snide asides and sneers
of horrible little Englishmen –
fogeys like their fathers.

One doesn’t catch the cattle-wagon
so that stay-at-home mothers
could boast to other silly cows –
in gross exaggeration –
of their sons’ and daughters’
allocated living (which they hate),
or about their children’s town houses
in Battersea or Clapham
and basement constructions,
and grandchildren’s private schools.

What the act of writing and thinking
lacks in visibility
it possesses more in tangibility
than making it to Partner
or just mere Junior Associate.
Because, despite caustic condescension,
the writer has as their weapons
their pen and imagination,
and the list of names
of their enemies:

The put-downers and detractors,
the school contemporaries and masters,
and university rivals,
relatives and so-called family friends.
Their moniker becomes a character
who possesses perversions,
peculiar inclinations,
a most unpleasant person,
a villain most vile,
a psychopathic sociopath.

What was good for Waugh
is good enough for us;
our pen is our sword.
So to all those I know and have known
(and most of you are loathsome);
look out for your names –
you’ll become legends,
so people will laugh
when you telephone for service,
or make an application.

For the written word
Is the foundation
Of strength and power,
And for The Writer
The greatest revenge.

© Copyright RC Clermont 2017



Writer #2 (second stanza – of 2)

Writer #2

Am I the world’s only person
To attain the conclusion
That there’s a differentiation
Between something for which one is drilled
And that in which one is fulfilled;
Between labouring at what one loathes,
And realizing what one loves;
That the former subsidises the latter,
Till the latter becomes the corpus,
And the former superfluous –
Though it’s a crime to be lettered
In these harsher times?

© Copyright RC Clermont 2017


Writer #2 (stanza #1)


Wiping a circle in the condensation
To view a drab morning in Autumn
From one’s sombre studio salon,
One revives the aspiration
Of the literary recognition
To relieve oneself of the obligation
To travail as an automaton
In the lower ranks of one’s profession
In the perpetual delusion
That one will earn the distinction
Of other people’s expectations,
That one has achieved one’s vocation.

© Copyright RC Clermont 2017



Life in the fast lane;

defective product. Bin it;

Write, Live, Love, Escape


© Copyright RC Clermont 2015

From: ‘Reflections 3‘.  (available at Amazon; part of the ‘Reflections‘ series of haiku verse).