K. Morris's Blog, page 677

#Internet #Addiction – guilty as charged?

A thought provoking post on an important issue. Kevin

Meeka's Mind

This article is about e-addiction. Don’t reach for your dictionaries, I just made that up. The addiction, however, is very real and I’ve experienced it myself, both as a gamer and as a netizen.

According to this article in the Washington Post :

‘[internet] Addicts lose interest in other hobbies or, sometimes, never develop any. When not allowed to go online, they experience withdrawal symptoms such as irritability, depression...

Saints and Mere Mortals

The pious wag their fingers
While love’s perfume
Lingers
In a darkened room,
Where mere mortals enjoy
That which the saint would destroy.

The Tower

A man all his efforts bent
To the exclusion of all else,
On the construction of a tower called self.
The higher it went
The less content
He grew.
Breaking through
the clouds
And feeling proud
He saw
A boy soar,
Then fall, seaward bound.
Icarus was the boy’s name
And from his fall nothing profound
Came
For man continues his building just the same.

Crystal Ball Gazing

Will the click of a mouse
In the virtual house
Of the brain
Replace
Nature’s sweet face?
Or can man restrain
The genie who, perhaps already half woken,
His words as yet unspoken,
Holds out visions of heaven and hell.

Will men dwell
In the half light
Where day and night
Lose all meaning
And seeming
And fact become as one?
Has man gone
So far
That we lose who we are?

Can rich variety be reduced
And man seduced
By the girl made up of data?

Sooner or later
These things may come
To pass, but hi...

Beauty

Sometimes the air is so pure
And beauty’s store
Becomes too much.
At such
Moments the heart is full
And a dull
Ache
Will not me forsake.

Tears fall on the tranquil lake.
The sun awakes.
I will go
And see the rainbow
Shine
And ponder on what some call nature
And others the divine.

The Horseman

How easy to construe
The new and inviting
For what is true.
The ride exciting
Will
Thrill
For a while.
The denial
That a thing has become banal
Shall
Not prevent it from being so.
The rider halfheartedly says “woe”
But the horse
Will continue on it’s familiar course.

“I will turn back”the horsemen doth say
“Yet how easy it is to stay
On the well trodden way.
The day
Grows dark
And the lark
Has long since ceased to sing.
The weary fairies in their ring
To me call.
Oh, how easy ‘Tis to fall …”...

Should Poets Explain Their Poetry?

How far (if at all) should a poet explain his (or her) work? I have always been of the view that poets should leave it to the interpretation of readers to determine what their verses mean. To explain all risks treating readers like young children who must be spoon fed. Furthermore, detailed explanations by the poet remove the joy experienced by many lovers of poetry of reaching their own conclusions concerning a poem’s meaning.
Recently, 2 people have expressed the view (on 2 separate occasio...

Heels

Heels clicking.
A clock ticking.
Sounds intermingle.
Fantasies kindle
In the mind of the single man
Who can
But hear
The click of stillettos
Passing near.

Supine he lies,
And closing his eyes
Tries
To slumber.
Idly he doth wonder
What takes
A girl out so late
And who else wakes,
Rapt, by joy or fear
Harkening to heels
Passing near.

The Fox and the Devil

Lucifer fell
Into a well
And said, “I wonder who herein does dwell?
The dark be dammed, its blacker than hell!”

“Tis I”, said the fox sly,
I too fell in here.
‘Tis clear
I will die.
Yet, I am the bolder
Of we two.
Let me stand upon your shoulder
And cause a to-do!
Never fear
I will summon help here.

So the devil did accept
And the fox leapt
Up on to Satan’s shoulder
And being the bolder
Of the two
Threw
himself out.
You should have heard the devil shout!
“A pox
On you fox.
Come back forthwi...

An Unsuitable Attachment

An unsuitable attachment
Leads on to detachment.
The slow drip, drip
Of anoyances strip
Bare
Any pretence that either party care.

Beware
For the perfect bust
Engenders lust
Which may be for true passion mistaken.

When dalliance is over, the forsaken
Heart Cries
Out for love, and seeks joy in another’s eyes.
‘Tis frequently a temporary reprieve
For lonleness will oft times cause man to believe
That desire is love.

The gods above
Shrug,
For they have seen it all before.
And well know
That furth...