.

And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again? Archilochus

Saturday, June 16, 2018

Bloomsday!

10 comments:

FreeThinke said...

Give me a good ol' Harelquin romance about a meek little governess marrying the Duke, Baron, Earl or Lord whose mad wife is locked in the garret any day!

};^)>

Joe Conservative said...

Quiet! I'm trying to talk myself into reading Joyce again! ;)

FreeThinke said...

I've read both volumes of A la recherché de eemps perdu –– in English, I confess, and I remember struggling with Portrait of the Artist as a young man in college, but ULYSSES?!?!

Ye Gods, NO!

I'm no saying i's not worthwhile. It's just NOT for ME.

I imagine bothering to acquaint oneself in depth with Wagner's Ring, the Great Organ and Choral Works pf J.S.Bach, the two-hundred-plus symphonies of Haydn nd Mozart, the song cycles of Schubeft, Schumann, Brahms, Hugo Wolfe, Debussy, Ravel, and Dupar, Richard Strauss and Gustav Mahler might be equally dunting for a non-music lover addicted to the tedious inanity and deeply offensive obscenities found in Rock. Heavy Metal and Rap, etc.

Thersites said...

The master of the "low" epiphany beckons...

(((Thought Criminal))) said...

I started to read Joyce once, then I got sidetracked with trying to calculate how much cocaine was involved in the decision to publish that talentless hsck, which im turn mafe a disjointed steam of consciousness treatise on why varnish dries faster at differentt altitudes.

(((Thought Criminal))) said...

lulz

FreeThinke said...

lutz?

Don't you mean NUTZ!?

FreeThinke said...

IN HONOR of FATHER'S DAY
Sunday, June 17, 2018

_________ A Father’s Prayer _________

Ask not, my child, what I can do for you.
Forgive what seems like stinginess today.
A lot will be required to go through
The process of discovering the right way.
Help yourself. Don't wait for me, my child.
Each one of us must learn to stand alone.
Rich rewards like Love can't be beguiled,
Seduced or bought. They must in toil be grown.
Perhaps to you I sound a bit too stern?
Remember that I've lived a longer time.
A joy cannot exist until you earn
Your way. To do it FOR you'd be a crime.
Exacting though I seem, my little one,
Respect me now, and –– later –– you'll have fun.


~ FreeThinke

Joe Conservative said...

Great poem, FT!

FreeThinke said...

Thank, you, Joe, but it's little more than good, old-fashioned Common Sense, albeit expressed in iambic pentameter adorning an acrostic identifier. Just a iiterary conceit, of course, but we hope it's more stimulating than the blunt telegrammatic mode of communication, bereft of grammar and devoid of style, in vogue for the past fifty-odd years –– thanks to the ubiquitousness of Cultural Marxist influence in education, print journalism and electronic forms of public communication.

];^}>