“I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.”


I’m not quite convinced Alfred was right, and more especially think that a blog is often a bit like talking to yourself, but it certainly unites all in the sometimes happy, more often sorrowful human condition. Perhaps there should be a Dislike key here too, though, now we’re all forced to turn to ratings pursuits, and Push Button Democracy. As for publishing damsels, over here, this poetic heart certainly loved and lost, but wasn’t that enough, and why did said party just stand around and watch an entire writing career being taken apart too? Is it because everyone in New York is so rigid in their bizarre fears, and levels of aggressive Ego Consciousness, they believe not in the great stories, only in bad episodes of Prison Break, and the violent defence of their ‘rights’? I admit, in the Christian suffering stakes, a writer approaching the question of real good and evil in a book might have touched a sacrificial core, but what is it people really believe in? I think I prefer a quote from Kipling, unfashionable priest of Mowgli, animals and empire, but fine storyteller, to add to the poetic Sweatshop of the Soul:

“Oh, the years we waste and the tears we waste,
And the work of our head and hand
Belong to the woman who did not know
(And now we know that she never could know)
And did not understand!”


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Filed under Poetry, The Phoenix Story

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