Hello. September is well upon us (halfway over tomorrow). How have you been?
My thoughts are with all those who have been affected by the recent hurricanes and those who have been living in smoke-filled and dangerous places due to all the wild fires.
When the news gets to be too much, I never know what to write in this space. Before these catastrophes, I was trying to think about the general topic of cynicism, but I am still thinking. We’ll see whether I can draft anything cogent to present here.
Meanwhile I haven’t blogged in a while and I wanted to share something so I looked up public domain poems to accompany the marigold photographs below. I am interested in re-discovering “old” poetry that sounds contemporary. First I found “Marigolds” by Robert Graves (here’s the link); but as luck would have it I stumbled on his poem “Mr. Philosopher” and I found it more appealing.
I love the second to last line – it shakes up everything and makes us all overtired children. Here’s wishing you fun.
Peace, love, and solace,
Mr. Philosopher
Old Mr. Philosopher
Comes for Ben and Claire,
An ugly man, a tall man,
With bright-red hair.
The books that he’s written
No one can read.
“In fifty years they’ll understand:
Now there’s no need.
“All that matters now
Is getting the fun.
Come along, Ben and Claire;
Plenty to be done.”
Then old Philosopher,
Wisest man alive,
Plays at Lions and Tigers
Down along the drive—
Gambolling fiercely
Through bushes and grass,
Making monstrous mouths,
Braying like an ass
Twisting buttercups
In his orange hair,
Hopping like a kangaroo,
Growling like a bear.
Right up to tea-time
They frolic there.
“My legs are wingle,”
Says Ben to Claire.
Robert Graves
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