"Autobiographies of great nations are written in three manuscripts – a book of deeds, a book of words, and a book of art.
Of the three, I would choose the latter as truest testimony." - Sir Kenneth Smith, Great Civilisations

"I must write each day without fail, not so much for the success of the work, as in order not to get out of my routine." - Leo Tolstoy

I have never believed that one should wait until one is inspired because I think the pleasures of not writing are so
great that if you ever start indulging them you will never write again. - John Updike

"The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour
is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it." - J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Friday, July 19, 2019

R.E. Slater - The Winter of Our Discontent

The Winter of Our Discontent
by R.E. Slater

Now is the winter of our discontent
Where brother calls brother brother no more
Where hand lifts against head in anger’s vent
As smouldering ires lying murderous about.

Surely no woman, no man, denies family or friend
Yet vile the offense seething neglect and feud
Fueling lies of ill-will, refusing fellowship sweet
Castrating lives like mown grasses of summer.

Low lays man’s spirit enflamed siren’s hymns
Fell darkness descending its remorseless charms
Imagined illusions guiding misguided spirits
Hearing no seasons but hate within hell’s dark maw.

Winter or summer, springtime or harvest
All is the same moving dark intent's climes
Spewing madness’s flames in burning moods
Noxious marshes befouling most putrid fens.

R.E. Slater
July 17-19, 2019
(edited Aug 20, 2019)

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