December 2, 2010

The New Mistress

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--Description: 20th C, Houseman A.E., Love, War-- 

'Oh, sick I am to see you, will you never let me be?
You may be good for something but you are not good for me.
Oh, go where you are wanted, for you are not wanted here.'
And that was all the farewell when I parted from my dear.

I will go where I am wanted, to a lady born and bred
Who will dress me free for nothing in a uniform of red;
She will not be sick to see me if I only keep it clean:
I will go where I am wanted for a soldier of the Queen.

I will go where I am wanted, for the sergeant does not mind;
He may be sick to see me but he treats me very kind:
He gives me beer and breakfast and a ribbon for my cap,
And I never knew a sweetheart spend her money on a chap.

I will go where I am wanted, where there's room for one or two,
And the men are none too many for the work there is to do;
Where the standing line wears thinner and the dropping dead lie thick;
And the enemies of England they shall see me and be sick.

Alfred Edward Houseman

--Did You Know: (26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936) Houseman usually known as A. E. Housman, was an English classical scholar and poet, best known for his cycle of poems A Shropshire Lad. Lyrical and almost epigrammatic in form, the poems were mostly written before 1900. Their wistful evocation of doomed youth in the English countryside, in spare language and distinctive imagery, appealed strongly to late Victorian and Edwardian taste, and to many early twentieth century English composers (beginning with Arthur Somervell) both before and after the First World War. Through its song-setting the poetry became closely associated with that era, and with Shropshire itself. Housman was counted one of the foremost classicists of his age, and has been ranked as one of the greatest scholars of all time.[1] He established his reputation publishing as a private scholar and, on the strength and quality of his work, was appointed Professor of Latin at University College London and later, at Cambridge. Read more at: A.E. Houseman

--Word of the Day: hallow \HAL-oh\, verb:
1. To make holy; sanctify; consecrate.
1. Hallo.
1. To shout or chase with cries of "hallo!"
No moral quality, no association of purity, truth, modesty, self-denial, or family love, comes in to hallow the atmosphere about them, and create a sphere of loveliness which brightens as mere physical beauty fades.
-- Harriet Beecher Stowe, Household Papers and Stories

--Quote of the Day: "I think the reward for conformity is that everyone likes you except yourself."
-- Rita Mae Brown

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Posted by V. Mahfood
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Kalani Kaushalya on December 3, 2010 at 1:20 AM said...

By Kalani Kaushalya

Quite spontaneous
Wasn’t it between us
All of the laughter’s
And All the tears
Felt as a Soft Rain
Switched in to the Acid
Chocking very slowly

Flushing down cheeks
We drank the Poison
Danced in the Flames
You called it a laughter
Was it Salty Sadness ?

Distances unbearable
Then Irreconcilable
Hatred began sooner
Scratched this heart forever

I yelled so aloud
Punished my self
Endlessly though
Couldn’t get satisfied
So much of hatred ?
So much of love ?
Hated you for mocking me
With charming words

Vacuum and the aloofness
Filled in every moment
Too much we missed
In winded channels

Was it the shame
Or was it fear
I could never accept
You in to my life
We drifted apart
Left so much unsaid
Realization came
Little too late
Poignant Destiny
what we had shared
I can never hate you
You are my Beloved

V. Mahfood on December 3, 2010 at 8:23 PM said...

Thank you for sharing Realization with us. I will post it also on Coffee Table Guest Book. Look for it there tomorrow!

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