K. Morris's Blog, page 669

The General Will (a satire on the idea that “the people” are invariably right)

Only a fool
Can object to Rousseau’s rule,
For “the general will”
Can do no ill.

It is treason
To deny
That “the people” are guided by reason
And he who does so must die.

So say I
Until “the general will”
Does ill
Unto me
And we are no longer free …

—

http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/General_will#Jean-Jacques_Rousseau

Bee and Rose

The bee
Full of lustfull glee,
The budding flower,
Aches to probe.

She holds him in her power,
Disrobes
And does expose
The tender mysteries of the rose.

He takes
And her passion wakes,
Until winter gaunt
Puts an end to flaunt
Of bee
And rosetree.

Rue

Waking to the alarm
He thinks on the charm
Of woman (not here).
Yet the imagined ideal
Does, I fear
So often obscure the real.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Girls ponder on jewels
While fools Misconstrue
What is true.
Hamlet will gather Rue
Ere the day is through.

—

In Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” it is, of course Ophelia (not Hamlet) who gathers rue.

Poetics

Should a poem conform
To some abstract
Form
Of rhyme and metre?
Trying to hard may defeat her.
The poet that is, who striving for perfection
Feels only dejection
And bangs her head
Until she sees red
Or shooting stars,
Which rhymes with cars,
But not a publishing contract,
that is a fact …

Feet of Clay

Saints with feet of clay
Play
With fallen angels
Who have bills to pay.

Such men are Lucifer, some will say,
While others plead
Man has his needs
And there are hungry mouths to feed.

The poor Thai
Asks not why,
But takes the cash,
Or simply dies.

Poe’s Ligeia- A Short Discourse

An Unexpected Muse

Anyone who has read Edgar Allan Poe can attest to his use of the English language to convey beauty as poignant and surreal to whatever situation life may reveal. His sense of the macabre is elegant and alluring, so much so that we see ourselves as the very target of ethereal forces at work.

The story of ‘Ligeia’ represents Poe’s fascination with love and the occult, the hidden side of life not often visited but which can unexpectedly manifest itself into the realm of the l...

Grace

I Seek for grace,
In nature’s ever changing face.
Yesterday
the sheeting rain chased empty thought away.

This morning, The wind purifies,
Birds sing in sunny skies.
At times, my spirit flies
Or goes asighing with the breeze.

Would
That I could
Soar high up in the trees
And be lost among the leaves.

Victoria Zigler, Books Available In Paperback

I am pleased to publish the below announcement by my friend, author Victoria (Tori) Zigler:

For those who don’t know, I write poetry, as well as books for children of various ages.

Back in 2012, I started publishing my books in multiple eBook formats. Then, in early 2015, I decided it was way past time I started making my books available in paperback for those who still prefer physical copies of books.

Now, more than a year later, I’m pleased to be able to report that I’m all caught up with...

Milk

“He’s dead”
She said.
What to say?
Meaningless words
Of sympathy, by her probably only half heard
While thinking “I must get away,
The shop will soon close
And heaven knows
I am out of milk. Well nearly so.
Poor lady how will she go
On without him?”
A short walk and I am in
The shop where once they together went
And spent notes that crumble into dust.

Minotaur

The Minotaur doth roar
For his stomach is sore,
On account of the plump maiden he ate
Together with cutlery and plate!

“Oh why Did I partake
Of a girl so overweight.
By Zeus my stomach doth ache.
In future I will stick to steak!”
The Minotaur said, with a shake of his head.