A defense of high culture and ordered liberty by Russell Kirk, https://kirkcenter.org/kirk-essays/kirk-essay-cultural-debris/.
Kirk was a defender of traditional Conservatism and an American. I very much doubt however that he has been read by Donald Trump or (if he has) that the President would understand Kirk.
A tree branch, bowed
Half blocked the track.
I did not turn back
But ducked under.
There it stands,
Guarding the path.
Bowed by the recent wind.
Nature will have the last laugh,
Whether this tree
Outlasts me,
Or no.
My thanks to Chris Graham (AKA The Story Reading Ape), for publishing a guest post by me, in which I discuss how I went about compiling my “Selected Poems”.
I am grateful to Chris Graham for the opportunity to write about my experience of compiling and publishing my “Selected Poems”.
Firstly, one might ask, why produce a ‘Selected Poems’?
In the case of myself, I have published 6 collections of poetry: “Dalliance: A Collection of Poetry and Prose”, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There and Other Poems”, “Refractions”, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”, ” My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems” and “The Writer’s Pen and Other Poems”. In addition, I have composed a number of other poems which do not appear in the forgoing publications, but are included in my “Selected Poems”.
I did, briefly consider publishing a “Collected Poems”. However, to be totally frank, I wished to only include those poems that (in my admittedly biased opinion) constitute my best work. And I am not equally proud of everything that has poured forth…
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“The daffodils are out in Saint James’s Park”
My colleague did remark.
Today
The wind blusters
Through Wordsworth’s spritely clusters,
And I wonder how long will the chancers stay.
When the elderly wife of Mr Ted
Found a girl’s shoes under their bed
She said, with a sigh,
“I really don’t know why,
You must insist on wearing those, Ted!”.
I dreamed of Homer.
And of Odysseus the roamer,
And a wine red sea.
But awoke to this Modernity.
When a wealthy elderly lady named Leigh
Said, “I shall patronise your poetry”.
And I said, “oh, that means money!”,
She said, “no, my sweet honey!
But I shall patronise your poetry!”.
Whilst climbing up an extremely tall tower
I saw a lady in a shower.
I said to her,
“Is your name Claire?”.
She said, “no! and vacate this shower!”.
A beautiful poem.
The wind gusts.
Human lusts
Are strong.
But, as I sit in my home,
I remember long
Gone Rome.
And listen to the eternal sing,
Of the gusting wind.
K Morris - Poet 