By Heart: Not a rote

You’re asked to recite a poem (or song lyrics) from memory — what’s the first one that comes to mind? Does it have a special meaning, or is there another reason it has stayed, intact, in your mind?


You ask me, sir,

Mr. Daily Prompt Man,

To recite a poem (or song),

From memory,

The first that comes to mind.

I could sing a song of tuppence or two,

I could even make up my own,

But a rote poem, Sir, 

That is mighty hard,

For I’ve left all my poetry schooling behind,

And I’ve not learnt formally, Sir,

To appreciate poetry, song or music,

I just play it by ear.

If you absolutely insist,

All I have is these lines by W.H. Davies,

“What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare?”

—Linus Fernandes.

 

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Discussion Enders: Final words

We’ve all had exchanges where we came up with the perfect reply — ten minutes too late. Write down one of those, but this time, make sure to sign off with your grand slam (unused) zinger.


A perfect riposte,

A ripping rejoinder,

A tart retort.

Something that’ll make their feet melt

Back into the clay they come from.

That’s what we seek,

Looking to come off better—not bitter.

Enders Island in 2009.

Enders Island in 2009. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Always having the last word and the last laugh.

But are all battles to be won?

Aren’t some words just better off left unsaid?

Isn’t it better to concede a point,

Than never to talk ever again?

End of discussion.

~Linus Fernandes

Interrupted

So you claim that you were interrupted;

Two hours disrupted;

So many hours of work and patience lost,

and you erupted!

The man claims his life is interrupted!

So who’s to play the victim?

The victim’s victims?

Vicious circles don’t turn virtuous!

They just get more vicious!

Interruptions, eruptions, disruptions!

Just shades of gray, thrusting their way towards black and blacker!

Flag the black, Flag the gray, and you forget,

How we flag!

Interrupted again……………………………………….