Monthly Archives: November 2017

Schopenhauer

While on the way to the shops yesterday, I met an acquaintance. As one does in such situations, we passed the time of day. During our conversation my companion thanked me for the print copy of my collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind”, that I had given him. He had he said read it 3 times and intended to read it again. My poetry was, in his view bleak and reminded him of Schopenhauer.

I must confess to never having read Shopenhauer, but the words of my acquaintance kindled in me a desire to read up on the philosopher. For anyone interested in learning more about Arthur Schopenhauer I recommend the above article as a good starting point.

As to whether my poetry does, in any sense chime with the ideas expressed by the German philosopher, I feel unable to comment other than to state unequivocally that I repudiate in the strongest possible terms the anti-Semitic views attributed to Shopenhauer.

Anti-semitism is vile and led to the extermination of approximately 6 million Jews (men, women and children). Sadly there remain those on the far-right of politics who continue to propagate the lie that there was no “Final Solution”. Such denials are dangerous and those who propagate them contribute to the curse of anti-semitism.

Kevin

I Don’t Understand

I don’t understand those who wish that the sun would always shine,
For life is varied, and I pray that it will remain so.
When others complain
I shall go
Out in the rain
And feel alive
As they into buildings dive.

Some say the winter is drear
And huddle near
Fires that suck The oxygen away.
I can not stay
Indoors
On a cold winter’s day
But must ramble about on the moors
Or take a walk in an urban park
For the dark will come
And blot out the sun.
I am dust.

Gaunt Angel

The angel of passion haunted this place.
Many a grace
In the form of lass
Did pass
Through the ever open
Door.
Trite words where spoken,
(Most returned no more).

Now an angel gaunt
Does haunt
This place.
I can not see her face
Yet she does in secret flaunt
Her wares,
A payment just for man’s affairs.

The Enduring Lie of a Golden Age – Part 2…This is Personal

I can relate to much of what Mick says.

Mick Canning's avatarMick Canning

Two weeks ago I wrote of the idea so many people have that somewhere in the past there was a ‘Golden Age’ when everything was so much better than today.

I am now going to post what might seem a bit of a contradiction to what I wrote then.

121a

More and more, we are losing our connection with the natural world.

Everyone would have a different opinion on what is meant by the phrase ‘quality of life’, but for me if I am surrounded by concrete structures, with a lack of trees and flowers and birds, animals and insects, if the building I am in consists of electronic devices, plastic, steel, and artificial floor coverings, if my engagement with the day to day tasks of this building consists of pressing buttons, then I feel my own quality of life is much diminished.

A common post appearing on Facebook is of…

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Poems For November 5th

November 5th is Guy Fawkes or Bonfire Night here in the UK. Below are 2 of my poems with a fireworks/Bonfire Night element to them. The first is entitled “Catherine Wheel” and the second “The Dark”.

Both poems can be found in my collection, “Lost In The Labyrinth Of My Mind”, (http://moyhill.com/lost/).

Sometimes I feel
Like a Catherine wheel,
My words as sparks,
Lighting the dark.
But who in December
Remembers
The fifth of November?

Closing my curtain
I shut out the night
And the fireworks
Celebrating something
But precisely what
I am uncertain.
While beyond my drapes
The dark
Patiently waits …