...a silly ditty:
There was a young
woman from Leeds
Who planted a packet
of seeds.
The triffids all grew
And said ‘How do you
do.
You’ll suffice for a
couple of feeds.’
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
...until death do re-unite or the Priestess return to Avalon.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
The moving finger writes and, having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self .
This character appears in one of my short stories, and also in the novel. He's sadder than he looks, poor thing.
About Me
- JJ
- Ashbourne, Derbyshire, United Kingdom
- I've never had money because I've never been driven by money. I received little formal education beyond the age of sixteen, which isn't such a bad thing since you get a different angle on life that way. Learning what you want and need to learn often reveals things that the system's road keeps hidden.
BOOKS
Anyone interested in viewing the availablity of my novel Odyssey or novella The Gift Horse can do so here.
To Be Retained...
...until death do re-unite or the Priestess return to Avalon.
Khalil Gibran on Children.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
OMAR KAYYAM ON REGRET.
The moving finger writes and, having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
Herman Hess on Nobility
There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self .
Free Fiction
I have another blog called A Handful of Stories on which I've posted some of my short fiction. Most of it has been published by a variety of independent small press publishers, so somebody other than me must have thought it worth reading.
Followers
Flag Counter
Blog Archive
-
▼
2011
(1328)
-
▼
November
(151)
- Mid Evening Notes.
- A Ditty for Dorothy and Dodo.
- Life and a Phrase.
- Awaiting the Wind.
- A Reminiscence.
- A Salutory Ditty.
- Tonight's Nocturne.
- An Apology...
- Illusions.
- The Pressure Cooker.
- Minding Malls and the Privacy of Arms.
- XYZ
- A Sad Passing, Maybe.
- A Fault.
- Today.
- Three More Notes.
- The Matter of Distance.
- A Tip For When the End of the Tether is Near.
- Squabbling Twins.
- The Wind as Woman's Breath.
- On Crying.
- A Post-Modern View?
- Arboreal Danse Macabre.
- Being Mr Tumnus.
- The Hitch Up Phenomenon.
- Luchtime Thoughts.
- At Long Last...
- A Silly Short Story.
- Being Kept Out of Mischief.
- Seeing in the Dark.
- In the Stars.
- Speed Obsessed.
- A Challenge...
- Being Acceptable.
- Art as a Subject.
- Life, and Jokes Transparent and Opaque.
- Whitewashing a Word.
- Seeking Entente and a Romantic Question.
- Notes as the Soup Simmers.
- The Big Emotional Variable.
- An Attempted Explanation...
- Orders at Five Bells in the Middle Watch.
- Life and a Fair Wind.
- On the Nature of Forlorn.
- Frustrations.
- A Public Confession.
- Did I Say Barter?
- 'Love is Never Having to Say You're Sorry.'
- Another Nocturnal Ramble.
- Too Late for Wisdom.
- Impulse vs Circumspection.
- Safe Psychedelia.
- Life and the Benefit of Barter.
- Unashamedly Cynical.
- The Morning's Irritations.
- The Priestess Speaks...
- A Lazy Post.
- Walking with Imagination.
- As Dinner Time Approaches.
- Early Learning.
- The Night Terror.
- Saying it With Smells.
- Three Little Notes.
- A Tentative Thought on Purity.
- Today's Updates.
- Being a Person.
- Small Talk.
- Translation, Anybody?
- In Communion with Christine.
- Another Non Post.
- Another Little Thought at Bed Time.
- Coming Second.
- Getting What You Wish For.
- On the Matter of Women.
- A Cautionary Tale, Maybe.
- Respecting Purity and Power.
- The Bits I Forgot.
- More Random Bits.
- Communication.
- A Sonnet for Sarah.
- A Day in the Life.
- Still Blowin' In the Wind.
- That Woman in America...
- Life and the Writing of Strange Stuff.
- Life and the Ideal.
- Ever Apart.
- Picking up the Vibe.
- A Ghost in Union Blue.
- Robins, Smart Sheep, and a Mysterious Nag.
- Fraud Avoidance.
- Something Missing.
- Meeting Miss Sarah.
- A Lot on Neurosis and a Little on M'lady S.
- Qualifying for Bedlam By Reason of Monomania.
- A Minor Avian Aside.
- Blood and Principle.
- Bed Time.
- More Little Preoccupations.
- The Eleventh Day of the Eleventh Month.
- Life, Change and Being Impulsive.
-
▼
November
(151)
Pictures.
All the permanent pictures and some of the posted ones on this blog are my copyright. Most of them, however, are placed with a picture library which holds the licensing rights. I don't, therefore, have the legal right to grant permission to use them.
An Inhabitant of the Hungry Ghost Realm
This character appears in one of my short stories, and also in the novel. He's sadder than he looks, poor thing.
CURRENT MOON
Labels
- Beetles (8)
- Birds (8)
- China (22)
- Ditties (143)
- Dracula (19)
- Frankenstein (6)
- French Lieutenant's Woman (13)
- Gonwid (4)
- Llama (13)
- Mary Davies (4)
- Premier (2914)
- Sweden (17)
- Trump (76)
When everything that is illusion is removed, all that remains is consciousness.
No comments:
Post a Comment