Monthly Archives: July 2016

When Panties Fly

Deidra Alexander's avatarDeidra Alexander's Blog

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It was early one spring when I found myself on a French highway between Normandy and Paris with my panties strung on a line across the back window of a silver sports car. French truck drivers, not unlike American truck drivers were quick to express their approval of my delicates flapping in the breeze as I zoomed back to Paris.

This would never have happened if I hadn’t decide liquor was more important than panties. You see I worked in Europe three weeks of every month. So naturally, I decided I could forego clothing to create luggage space for more wine and champagne.

This time my brilliance got the best of me. I found myself in the unfortunate position of being in a hotel in rural France without clean panties.

Never fear, I thought, a quick wash in the sink and they’ll be dry and ready for the flight…

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Telling a good poem from a bad one

An interesting post about “Telling a good poem from a bad one”, (http://www.dailywritingtips.com/telling-a-good-poem-from-a-bad-one/).

The comments following on from the article are, on the whole also well worth reading with (in my opinion) the following exception:
“ahi, as far as I am concerned poetry is for one person and that person is the person that wrote it and to be honest that is where it should be left.

I have tried many times to read poetry which has been sent to newspapers and to magazines but it is too much like hard work to bother because it is generally absolute tripe.

Poetry belongs with latin, forgotten, and should stay there.

There are a few con-merchants around as well who offer to publish ones poems if they come up to the mark. In this case the mark is if you are prepared to pay for the thrill of seeing your rubbish in print and people constantly fall for it.

I even pointed this fact out to one guy and he was still adamant that the quality of his work was “good”. I am sorry but it was absolutely terrible,”ignorance is bliss”, cheers, david”.

The above comment does, I believe say more about the person making it than it does about the value of poetry. “It was too much like hard work” says it all!

No Need for Roses

No need for roses to impress
The girl in the short summer dress,
Though there is wine a plenty
To fill the empty
Cup.

A man may sup
And not be filled
Though wine be spilled
Upon the sheet
Where nectar sweet
Runs
And the great tide comes
In once more
To sigh
And die
On barren shore.

Out of Tune

Thunder echoes but Thor
Is no more.
People look skywards as before
But only to remark
That the sky is dark.

The rain will clean
For a while, but the obscene
Heat
That festers in the calculating brain
Will remain.

The sane
Will go with the rain
That cools
While fools
Complain
That nature rules.

The Disease of Being Busy

This excellent post brought to mind Wordsworth’s poem, “The World Is To Much With Us”:

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.