(Am moving in a few days; consumed with decorating. So, here is a poem penned about a decade ago… Still, nothing much has changed. 
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HeroesI wish to confer on how we rate people,further discussions on judgment and gauge.Cos I'm feeling detached from our social convention,am getting an urge to go through this again.Left cold by those heroes whose every obsession,to find reassurance with impersonal public,who eat bugs and argue for my entertainment,with bare trace of talent, who bring nothing new.And I don’t wish to witness a someone I don’t know,try something they can’t do, with someone who can.I don’t think it’s clever, rich, or engaging,to watch the performance patently poor.Angered by heroes who live to intimidate,who find reassurance with impersonal public,who elevate celebrity with bullying and badgering,suggest that with power some violence is fair.For I don't wish to witness a someone I don’t know,distressed and humiliated for my entertainment.I don’t think it’s clever, rich, or engaging,to watch someone crying, chastened when falling.So I wince when I witness a dream being broken,hostile environment and judge being cruel.Smirking and laughing at personal calamity,lending strength to the bullies of every school playground.We are embattled by heroes who teach us that conflict,revenge and aggression are adequate for strategy,when dealing with difference and misunderstanding.The ranting, the screaming, the drowned-out voices,the stamping of feet, the pointing of fingers,the ‘I’ll get you back’, the ‘you wait and see’,consent weakness in them to spawn weakness in me.(So when you push in with your car and pull faces,or pretend you don’t see me and drive far too closely,or act like a dick at each opportunity,crack on with your bullshit, I’m just not that fussed.)But I wince when I witness the footballer argue,bending of rules whilst under a spotlight. Determine a norm that gets rather angry,when things become difficult or don’t go to plan.(Not a positive anger demanding improvement,but threatening of vengeance to those in the way.)We are bombarded by heroes who start phrases with ‘frankly’,in hope that the subsequent words carry weight,when what follows is dogma, or ill-thought-through vagary,or self-serving misspeaking that’s lacking in content.I wish they would speak as though we might musterenough wit to ponder the pertinent detail.So I wince when I watch the day's rolling news, fashionable journos performing their segues,trying to be noticed - - by breaking - - their syntax.With spurious graphics then crow-barring puns in,cramming in keywords like ‘anger’ and ‘blame’,prancing, flapping, hogging the frame.Not informative bulletin, reflecting how life is,but threat-filled spectacular for those who can view it.I wish for my heroes to hold genius and brilliance.To do what they do with great calmness and competence.We’ll sing to their craft with exuberance and wonderment. Praise raising the bar for each one of us following.Praise changing the game with a fresh way of playing.Praise shifting of viewpoints by rare forms of maxim.Praise progress, praise merit, praise positive leading.Praise promise, the honest, and unrivalled ability.But most of all when gauging our heroes,let faculty, not fortune, lead all of our judgements
