K. Morris's Blog, page 483
June 20, 2018
WE ARE DUST
Life lasts
Not for ever,
Our time here is so short,
Nothing stays the same for ever,
Our minds
Are small
Defined by the box we live in
But eternity calls
Remember, we
Are dust
Publishing And Diversity
On 9 June, the author, Lionel Shriver, published an article in The Spectator, https://www.spectator.co.uk/2018/06/when-diversity-means-uniformity/. To give a quote from that article which does, I think sum up Shriver’s argument:
“Second: dazzled by this very highest of social goods, many of our institutions have ceased to understand what they are for. Drunk on virtue, Penguin Random House no longer regards the company’s raison d’être as the acquisition and dissemination of good books. Rather,...
There Once Was A God Named Pan
There once was a god named Pan
Who married a girl named Ann.
They made music together
Whatever the weather
With the aid of a frying pan!
There once was a god named Pan
Who loved a girl called Ann.
He offered her his heart
But being in love with art
She married his best friend Dan!
June 19, 2018
The Oldest Game In Town
Tis the oldest game in town,
Save for agriculture
Perhaps. Or did moralists frown
When the hunter gatherers played
With the vulture?
And who then preyed?
And what is prey
Anyway?
Tis the same
Old game
Today. Vultures with vultures dance.
The word said
Is “Bed”
But romance
Is dead.
The soiled rose
With too short clothes
Will prey
On those
Who pay
To play
With prey.
But for a moment stay,
Just who created the prey?
None Can Force The Pot
None can force the pot
To be hot.
And a watched pot
Never boils.
Cease your toils
And she
Will love thee
(or not.
June 18, 2018
There Was A Young Man Called Lee
There was a young man named Lee
Who said “the world revolves around me”.
Awaking with a start
I said “bless my heart,
Was someone talking to me …”.
June 17, 2018
There Was A Young Lady Called Lou
There was a young lady called Lou
Who preferred 3 rather than 2.
We went to a discreet hotel
With a girl named Nell
As 3 is better than 2 …
A Slim Volume
A slim volume
Lost in a room
Full of books
Must gather dust,
Although, perchance
Words dance
For one who looks.
June 16, 2018
On Hearing Of The Death Of A Former Colleague
The business of work stopped
When the sickle chopped
For you
Who
Knew
When
To wield a pen.
But you
Could laugh too.
How silent is the office now
That your paperwork is done.
The serious and the fun
All must
Blend
In the end
In dust,
And in the memories of we who live on
After you are gone.
Packages
They come in garish bows,
In pretty wrapping
Or tied up with string.
He who hears a tapping
Or the doorbell’s ring
Knows that he must, without fail
Pay cash on the nail
Else his bow
Will go.
(The phrase “cash on the nail” means immediate payment).
