Sociopath

[heslopian]

"Never hug and kiss them, never let them sit on your lap. The end result is a happy child. Free as air, because he has mastered the stupidly simple demands society makes upon him." - James B. Watson

I don’t know how to be kind to people.
My skin still bursting at the seams
from disheveled insides it cannot contain,
tenderness fascinates me, but is always

beyond my grasp. Like a scientist who watches
his animals mate, makes notes
then compiles his solemn essays, I regard
the external gestures, never knowing

how they work, or why one should even try.
As a boy in the corner I studied silence,
its equations everywhere, drawn on the
blackboards of doors and hallways,

which sometimes gave me terse footsteps,
some scraps presented like bones to a dog,
but not often. Not often enough. Now I live alone,
and observe life through invisible glass.

[billy]

"Never hug and kiss them, never let them sit on your lap. The end result is a happy child. Free as air, because he has mastered the stupidly simple demands society makes upon him." - James B. Watson i'd have just stole that part of the quote and made it the 1st verse as so;
Never hug and kiss them,
never let them sit on your lap.
The end result is a happy child

I don’t know how to be kind to people.
My skin still bursting at the seams
from disheveled insides it cannot contain, dishevelled
tenderness fascinates me, but is always

beyond my grasp. Like a scientist who watches
his animals mate, makes notes
then compiles his solemn essays, I regard
the external gestures, never knowing

how they work, or why one should even try.
As a boy in the corner I studied silence, i love this line, it speaks the whole poem
its equations everywhere, drawn on the
blackboards of doors and hallways,

which sometimes gave me terse footsteps,
some scraps presented like bones to a dog,
but not often. Not often enough. Now I live alone,
and observe life through invisible glass.

i think this is worth putting to print.
it has more than one layer, it has a feel of wanting to be forgiven
yet not knowing why. (for me)

i love some of the original lines you use and some of the insights. the boy in the corner was special.
i think this is an up there poem jack. the fear is in there along with the recognition.
it makes the coldness of the 1st person seem warmer.
extremely good write (jmo)

[heslopian]

Thanks for the kind words Billy.
That's weird, when I originally wrote this poem I put two "l"s in "disheveled", but the internet spell checker I ran this through afterwards corrected me. I think it may have been an American one.
I'm glad you like this poem so much Billy. The first three lines of the opening stanza were written about me - I'd intended this to be a very personal piece - but when I couldn't make it work I went in the opposite direction, creating a purely fictional persona. Then it became inspired by an article I'd once read criticising Hollywood's perception of sociopaths as these literate, playful monsters, when in actuality most aren't even violent, but just sad, pitiable losers.

[addy]

I agree, I like that through his resigned self-awareness, the narrator seems almost sympathetic and relatable. In fact, if you take away the title, the poem speaks of a certain human condition we have all experienced on some level, at least once. A very compelling approach, especially when often sociopaths are portrayed as gleefullyt cruel and unfeeling when that isn't necessarily the case.

Some great lines as well. The third verse, in particular, was for me stunningly good. You've got a winner here

[heslopian]

Thanks for the kind words Addy. I find it interesting you think that this could be about the human condition in general if the title was removed. Maybe we're all a little maladjusted

[addy]

Haha or maybe I'm the one who's too maladjusted LOL . I admit its not an exact match, but I've had a similar feeling, in instances when I feel awkward and have trouble relating to people in an extrovert manner. I ask myself, shouldn't this be easy and natural? I question myself a lot about it, and I've come to see that as part of the human condition, to see others only through the pane of glass of your own inner thoughts . Perhaps that's why I sympathized with the narrator, because there was no suggestion that he looked down on other people for their relationships and emotions; on the contrary, he seems objectively aware of his own deficit.