K. Morris's Blog, page 827
May 19, 2013
I Am Taking A Break And I May Be Some Time!
I shall be taking a break from blogging for a week or so while my mum and her partner visit my sprawling estate in the country. Err I mean my flat in Crystal Palace (the estate was wishful thinking)! I must go now due to the need to brief the servants on the preparations for tonight’s banquet. See you all in a week or so. Kevin
Cynara by Ernest Christopher Dowson
I don’t often include work by other writers here. However I have chosen to include Cynara by the English poet, Ernest Christopher Dowson because it is, in my view one of the greatest poems in the English language. Dowson lived a short life (1867-1900), one full of drunkenness. He is perhaps best known for his wonderful poem, “They are not long the weeping and the laughter”, however he deserves to be better known for his other poems including the below.
Cynara
Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae
Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
Her Mother’s Daughter
Your mother’s daughter, she is proud of you, but does not see what you do. She does not see her daughter sweet stripped, stark naked from head to feet. She does not see the massage oil, her little girl bringing a naked man to the boil. She does not see him pawing you, the disgust on your face, but what can you do? For, after all he is paying you. She can not look inside your head, see what thoughts trouble you as you lie in your own bed. Could she see inside your brain, the world would reel, her heart fill with pain. Your mother knows not what you do, perhaps that is best for both her and you.
May 17, 2013
Epitaph On A Seeker Of Pleasure
He lived his life like a feather, blown hither and thither forever, by the cold winds of change. Young ladies of pleasure filled his leisure with bliss and pain. He held nothing dear, no one came near, life passed him by, until with a sithe, death came and called his name.
May 16, 2013
The Blackbird
Yesterday evening on the way home from a restaurant , with my friend Jeff, he and I where delighted by the singing of a blackbird. There he sat atop an urban chimney in the heart of Crystal Palace singing fit to burst. His singing filled that busy street with music and he made me feel life coursing through my veins. Beauty in the heart of the city.
May 15, 2013
Are you Bored?
Are you bored? Turn on the TV, kill the tedium, watch it with me. Have a problem? Does it hurt to think? The perfect solution, lets have a drink. Don’t like the truth, the nagging thoughts in your head? Turn up the volume, fill it with noise instead, and, if all else fails take refuge in bed.
I have a problem (sorry challenge)!
Yesterday I attended a course on CV writing. At one point the trainer refered to the problems one faces when composing or amending a CV. I was struck by the refreshing way in which she acknowledge that problems actually exist here in the real world. There is a deplorable tendency particularly among management types to come out with statements along the lines of
“There are no problems, only solutions” or
“There are no problems only challenges”.
On communicating my pleasure to the trainer regarding her acknowledgement that problems as opposed to challenges actualy exist she related the following humorous true story.
In marketing there are supposed to be no problems only situations. A group of salesmen where attending a training course when one of them refered to the problems he was experiencing in his work. His colleagues rebuked him saying that there are no problems only situations. He responded that
“Well I am facing so many situations it is turning into a problem”!
I would love to meet that man and shake him by the hand. With one brilliant stroke he cut through the Gordian knot of management speak and told, god help us the plain unvarnished truth. Would that there where many more men and women of his ilk. But then again the rubbish spouted by management types does provide endless hours of amusement to we mere mortals!
