Whispering girls,
Their pearls
Long since lost,
Consort with fools
Who know not the cost
Of precious jewels,
While those who know,
Sigh and say “it was always so”.
Lost Pearls
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Tag Archives: newauthoronline
Don’t Major In Literature
A highly provocative take on the value of studying literature, which can be summed up by the following quote from the post linked to below:
… “and if you want to learn about art, beauty, and literary value—read great writers and do nothing more than open yourself to them. Don’t pay
and don’t let your parents mortgage their home to have your aesthetic sensibilities ruined and replaced by a hodgepodge pseudo discipline”.
The article is, I believe full of sweeping generalisations (and I certainly don’t agree with the suggestion that literature departments should, perhaps be closed). I am sharing in the spirit of encouraging debate and my re-blogging should not necessarily be taken as signifying my agreement with the writer’s perspective.
To read the article please visit, http://quillette.com/2017/05/02/dont-major-literature/.
Wood in the Rain
My hair is barely wet
At all
And yet
The rain did fall
As I stood
In yonder wood.
The yammer
Of a hammer
Reached my ear,
While the birds free
Sang to me
As I touched the flowers
That know not hours.
Supermarket Aisles
No trumpets play,
‘Just the same musak as yesterday,
Sounds down supermarket aisles
Where rictus smiles
Tally the cost
Of loves bought and lost,
And there is no sun
Behind the frost,
Merely a kind of fun,
Wherein shopper and purveyor are soon done.
There Was An Elderly Lady Called Kate
There was an elderly lady called Kate
Who got in a terrible state,
Over her gardener Stan,
(A most careless young man),
As he never would close the gate!
May Day
The May Queen
Is in her finery seen,
And many a staid
Maid
Will today
Discover another way
Through the dance, as Baccus and Cupid combine
In love and wine.
Is it rude
To call Cupid
Stupid?
How many girls brood
On such things
As they lose themselves in rings?
The Morning After
The morning after the night before
Alice closed a door.
“Drink me” the potion said.
She drank without emotion
And now a possibility is dead.
There Was A Young Man Called Locke
There was a young man called Locke
Who wished to stop the clock.
He broke the machine,
But I did glean
That time outlasted Locke.
This Rhyme
This rhyme
May, for a time
Survive. While I
Shall surely die.
On Dark Nights
On dark nights the fawn
does the wolf engulf
In such exquisite delights
But come the dawn
Both wolf and fawn
Are left,
Bereft
Listening to silence’s interminable yawn
K Morris - Poet 