The REAL WORLD

Posted on June 10, 2022 by Roland's Ragbag

*‘Planet Earth’ . . . Watercolour – WHB – 1956*

THE REAL WORLD

An Attempted Discourse

You do annoy me at times

And why is that?

Because I think you are losing touch with reality

What makes you think that?

Because the things you do and say do not make sense

To you, maybe, but then I don’t think you are living in the real world yourself

What do you mean ‘the real world’?

‘Reality’

Is that where you live then?

Well, it’s much more real than yours

How do you know that?

Because I use my reason and all my senses. You don’t.

And how do you know that I don’t?

Because what you do does not make sense

But that’s what I just said to you

Well, I’m saying it now – to you.

But you can’t do that – I started this argument

What argument?

The one we’re having now

No, we aren’t

You see – that’s just what I mean. You are not being real

Well, I think I am

I just don’t think so

Well, you’d be wrong

Why should you be right and me wrong?

Because you aren’t living in the real world.

Oh . . . Get real!

In Love

Posted on July 23, 2021 by Roland's Ragbag

When did the starlight happier seem than now?
The evening’s quiet, when so full of peace?
How does heaven seem so near to me
Now, when I have wished away my heart?

Why has the night so sober been?
Why has my mind been reason’s moon?
That this poor sun has felt so long a night
The bark of last year’s growth has now unveiled
A green and stripling age of mind;
Eloping with this redder, browner blaze
Of hopeful, living love.

The two paintings above are by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828 – 1882). His model, who he considered his muse, and who later became his wife, was Elizabeth Siddal (1829 – 1862).

Night Fears

Posted on October 12, 2018 by Roland's Ragbag

Photo by Tookapic on Pexels.com

NIGHT FEARS

The night has its fears,
It is fraught with mistrust;
I lie in a mist,
My mind swathed in dust.

When sleep will not come,
When rest is denied,
My mind is a playground,
Sense cast aside.

Struggling with thoughts,
Unbidden, intense;
A barrage of cares
That hardly make sense.

Then fears invade,
Not something I sought.
What happened to reason,
To logical thought?

So I wait for the morning,
The return of the light,
To banish the tension
And put fears to flight.

red line

Love and Wisdom

Posted on January 10, 2018 by Roland's Ragbag

Bust portrait of Robert Herrick, 17th century English poet, from a rare print by W Marshal

One of the great love poems in the English language is Robert Herrick’s (1591 – 1674) poem ‘To Sylvia , to Wed’. The poem was published in 1674 in a collection of Herrick’s poems called ‘Hesperides’. You will find a transcription of it at: poets.org The last line of this extremely short poem is . . .

“No Man can at one time be wise and love.”

The truth of these words by Herrick have often struck me, and I have been led to compose the following poem to amplify my thoughts on the beauty of the words and the wisdom which they hold . . .

Love and Wisdom

Great truth lies here
For love consumes the soul
Drives out the rational
In favour of those headstrong thoughts
Those unconsidered deeds
Which couple love with lust
And joy with pain
Breaching reason
As a burst dam
Floods life’s valleys
As the wildfire strips life’s undergrowth
Devouring what it most values
In the thoughtless rush and swell
Of its inflamed ardour