The last poem I wrote was in 1999. My previous life had been disintegrating rather painfully since 1992, and much of my writing during this period reflected the disillusionment and bitterness that accompanied the violent loss of hopes and dreams. Eleven years of hard work and sacrifice ended without reward or recognition.
Much of what I wrote was a reaction to the heartless forces that maintain the status quo. By following my conscience, I ended up at the blank end of a maze, from which there had never been an exit. Such is the paradox of "success".
The issues I struggled with are not resolved. Some of the key players have died. Their ability to wreck fresh havoc in the world has ended. I no longer carry the burden of knowledge they represented in my life.
[A note to readers. During the period of time I describe, several dear and cherished friends passed away; they are not the key players to which I refer above.]
Unfortunately, not all my demons are incarnate. This is a struggle shared with all of humanity.
There are a few pieces from this period of my life that I like to read, and have decided to publish. The first, "Night Light", reflects my primal response to violence, be it physical, social, or psychological. The second, "Veneer", describes an encounter with an academic professional who I do not admire or respect. Sadly, in my opinion, he now manages to influence public policy.
|RECIPES :: Cast
By the Easy Chair
The House of Nire
by Morio Kita
first published in Japanese in 1964 as Nireke no hitobito.
From the comments section of a blog.
"You can't please everybody, but you will always offend somebody."
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