It is a fine day
And there are bills to pay.
“We will be good tomorrow”
“There will be no more sorrow”.
The clichéd things we say
And there are bills to pay …
Category Archives: books
Crow
The black crow
Will come and go.
This I know
‘Twas always so.
Yearning
Gulls Turning.
Me yearning
To be free
As the sea
She Stood Upon Her Head
“I don’t like rules” she said
As she stood upon her head.
“I agree with thee
‘Tis good to be free.
Now do take tea
With me”
I said with glee.
“But the manager is looking.
Soon the shop he will be shutting.
I hear him shout
“You two, get out”!
She replied with a pout
Wishes
You may desire a thing
And whistle in the wind.
But wishes fail to fly
And oft times die
With a doleful sigh.
Such is the lot Of you and I.
The Robot In Your Bedroom
Several days ago The Guardian published an article (http://www.theguardian.com/technology/2015/dec/13/sex-love-and-robots-the-end-of-intimacy) regarding the rise of sexbots. There are companies specialising in the production of such things and David Levy believes that such machines can alleviate the lonleness of those who are not in relationships. The growth of sexbots has lead to the founding of an anti sexbot organisation which calls for the prohibition of such robots.
The Guardian article reminds me of my short story, “The Affair” which can be found here, (http://newauthoronline.com/2014/10/26/the-affair/).
Kevin
Literary Merit
Recently I purchased 2 books of poetry: “I Just Stepped Out” by the late Felix Dennis and “Essential Poems”, edited by Neil Astley. Both works have much to recommend them (Dennis is a wonderful poet and I am currently enjoying leafing through Astley’s anthology). I am, however irritated by the prominent endorsements by famous people carried by both works.
While I am pleased that the great and the good derived pleasure from the books in question this is, ultimately a matter of supreme indifference to me. I will make up my own mind as to the value of a given work and the endorsement (or lack thereof) by a celebrity will not influence my view of the merits(or otherwise) of the book in question. In this media obsessed age the danger is that readers will base their decisions regarding book purchases on the literary tastes of those in the public eye. To my mind the opinion of the lady working behind the counter in my local bookshop caries more weight than that of a celebrity who has been asked for his or her view. Even then I will, in the final analysis make up my own mind as regards whether to buy a particular book.
Both of the above works do (as stated above) contain much that is praiseworthy. However the mere fact that a given work is endorsed by a well known individual should not cause us to conclude that it does, in fact possess literary merit and is, on this basis worthy of our attention.
As a writer I am thrilled whenever someone likes my work, whether that person is a shop assistant in my local supermarket or a photogenic celebrity is of no concern to me. While I in no way blame writers for seeking endorsements, I do worry that it leads to a mindset whereby a segment of the reading public come to believe that just because Mr X says a book is worthy of their attention it is, in fact worthy of their attention. This is, quite patently not the case.
As always I would be interested in your views on this subject.
Kevin
Commonplace
The dress she bought
Was cheap and short.
The bus she caught.
The vehicle’s slow pace
Her burning face.
Barely coping.
For salvation hoping.
Groping
For a way out.
Inwardly she shouts.
People are about
Staring
She is almost beyond caring.
A suburban place
His flushed face.
A girl’s disgrace.
How very common place.
I Remember, I Remember By Thomas Hood
A beautiful and poignant poem by the English poet, Thomas Hood. “thee tree is living yet” says it all.
—
I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.
I remember, I remember
The roses, red and white,
The violets, and the lily-cups
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,
The tree is living yet!
I remember, I remember
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow.
I remember, I remember
The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now ’tis little joy
To know I’m farther off from Heaven
Than when I was a boy.
Come The Gloom
It is too soon
For the moon
To Rise.
The prize
Is for the taking.
The wolf is not yet waking
But come the gloom
his thirst he will be slaking.