Skip to main content

He who does not punish evil commands it to be done.


I found myself stuck on a traffic island, drivers to the left of me, cyclists to the right, when all of a sudden a bus comes hurtling straight at me and all I had to protect myself was this flimsy sign!

Today's instalment of Saturday Festival of *someone else's* Poetry features an oldie, but a goodie.

Love and Hate, by Ogden Nash

Love is a word
That is constantly heard
Hate is a word
that is not
Love, I am told
Is more precious than gold
Love, I have heard
Is hot
But hate is the verb
That to me is superb
And love, just a drug
On the mart
For any kiddie from school
Can love like a fool
But hating, my boy
Is an art

Comments

Tash said…
I hate your cleverness.
Well done (with a hateful inflexion.)
It's a good year for Ogden Nash so far in the Blog-o-sphere...here is one...http://arizonabren.blogspot.com/2010/01/mr-magoo.html
--- in the comments, I linked to another.
Tash said…
Did you keep left or right? Sounds like an awfully dangerous spot. Glad you are safe.
Kris McCracken said…
Tash, I am an easy hater. A fellow I know always tells me "Kris, you don't really hate them", and I have to stress that "Yes, yes I do".

The difference, I think, is that he believes in Hell and I don't. It is easier to hate without a notion of [a religious] Hell.
Kris McCracken said…
Tash, I stood still and quivered. The sign protected me.
Roddy said…
Kris, have you seen these signs after they have been hit by a car? Can you imagine the damage done by a bus? You my son may well have been part of the paintwork. Under the sign.
Kris McCracken said…
Didn't I mention that I am in a full body cast and typing with my left eyelid?
Hi! Kris,
All I can say is...Wow!
I hope you are alright!...in the future "try" to be careful!!!!
The quote...True!
The Ogden Nash poem...Nice and True!
DeeDee ;-D
Roddy said…
No you didn't mention your condition. Obviously it missed your brain as you still have your cutting wit.
Kris McCracken said…
DeeDee, I live on the edge.
Kris McCracken said…
Roddy, that and my left eyelid.

Popular posts from this blog

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.