Prior to getting my first guide dog more years ago than I care to remember, I used a long white cane as a mobility aid and to prevent accidents. I still possess a cane, however I now rarely use it preferring the services of my trusty steed (sorry guide dog Trigger). The below post by a visually impaired lady about her white cane is extremely funny and resonates with me, http://doublevisionblog.com/2015/07/26/white-cane-in-hand-a-parody-of-green-eggs-and-ham/.
Kevin
You choke on your cornflakes over stories of vicars and hoares,
And when the death sentence is imposed you give loud applause.
When they call for moral regeneration your first in the queue,
Oh my friend what if they knew what you do.
Behind closed doors the lamplight is low,
To the girl, barely legal, you are “Mr So and So”.
When the deed’s done homewards you go,
To the wife, and the kids – fine, upstanding Mr So and So.
You made a good fist of it. Carefully crafted words conveying what you had to convey.
Are you a believer? The idea makes one guffaw. No not guffaw for that would be impolite and rudeness in such settings is not the done thing.
The audience clapped as one has to do.
You left a job well done. One does what one has to do and should never shoot the messenger. Does the messenger have an opinion? His but to convey. But, unlike the carrier of messages you spun us a tale – err you said it as it is.
Someone once remarked that reading between the lines of newspapers with diametrically opposing views will reveal the approximate truth.
You did what you had to do, but I am glad it was you, not I who did it.
He collected dolls both black and white.
Twas his pain and his delight,
To hold them tight at night.
Few words where said,
As they lay upon his bed
With eyes cold and dead.
He touched their skin so real,
Though love they could not feel.
One doll his heart did steal,
But her passion was unreal.
His soul it turned to steel,
No longer could he feel.
Doors close on innocence that knows
A girl in her short summer dress.
Does she suspect?
A budding rose.
Men traverse long dark roads
Opinionated Man is generously offering fellow bloggers the opportunity to share a link. Kevin
Oh Microsoft I love you.
I love the way you say in tones sweet
“document 1. Microsoft Word is not responding”.
I relish the opportunity you furnish for me to drink my tea while you hang with such grace and poise.
For the chance to eat my cereal while you continue to stick obstinately I give thanks.
I was in need of a shower so thanks, once more for affording me the opportunity to wash and dress as you continue to hang.
Thank you dear Microsoft for, finally allowing me to complete my poem which runs to an entire 4 lines.
Yours ever so gratefully,
A Humble Computer User.
(The above was written in response to the difficulties experienced while writing my poem, “Epitaph On A Poet” which appeared on this blog earlier today).
A book of poems upon his grave
Could not the poet save.
The few his words touched
Failed to keep him from the dust.
If one is interested in record breaking, I can see the point of the below exercise. However if the aim is to truly comprehend and, dare one say it, actually enjoy reading, then reading a book in 25 minutes becomes a wholly sterile occupation, (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/books/article-3168948/How-read-novel-25-minutes-remember-plot.html).
Kevin
I was delighted to be invited by Maja to post on her excellent site. My article is below. Thank you Maja! Kevin
The wonderful Kevin Morris at newauthoronline.com has been so kind as to agree to do a guest post for me. I proudly present the below post and urge you to go visit his wonderful blog and check out his works on amazon!
Many thanks to Maja for inviting me to write for her blog. I want to share with you one of my poems “Mirror” and say a little about it’s meaning. First the poem:
“The mirror sees it all:
The writing’s on the wall.
To the girl he calls.
She turns to him and falls.
Gazing in the glass,
She sees the truth at last.
Hides it with a laugh.
Would that she could break the glass”.
The above poem deals with first time prostitution. The mirror can be seen as a literal mirror reflecting back the young woman and her client. The glass can also be construed as…
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K Morris - Poet 