||[May. 16th, 2003|07:38 pm]
I've just made it home from work and the first thing I did was rip my clothes off -|
don't get too excited, it was only because I was wet, and hot and sweaty.
The trip home was interesting. Instead of my usual journey on the underground
(Victoria to Finsbury Park, change line then Bounds Green) I had to leave the underground
at Kings Cross and get an overground train to New Southgate station. Why? Finsbury Park
underground station and the Picadilly line were shut and the Victoria line trains weren't
stopping there because of a train on fire. Kings Cross was heaving but I managed to just
fit into an overground train for one stop then had to wait for a different train (the first one
was a fast service and didn't stop at New Southgate). When I eventually got there I then had
a 20 minute walk to where I'd left my car near the tube station.
When I got home I thought "How unlucky to be delayed like that", and then it occured to me
that no, actually I was luck to have not been on the train that caught fire. It all comes
down to perspective doesn't it. I didn't hear of anyone being hurt - hope no one was.
With all the threats of terrorist attack I suppose I should worry, but my attitude is that
I'm just going about my life as normal. If I let the terrorists limit what I do then they
have won and I'm not having that :)
On a different note ...
Most of the emotions we have are brief: they appear suddenly and vanish. They are part of the swift life of the intelligence. ... A brief poem does without the scaffolding of secondary ideas. Because of this, it moves more swiftly than the longer poem and with more intellectual exhilaration. ... In the brief poem ... the poet takes the reader to the edge of a cliff, as a mother eagle takes its nestling, and then drops him. Readers with a strong imagination enjoy it, and discover they can fly. The others fall down to the rocks where they are killed instantly.
From an essay called "Dropping the Reader" by Robert Bly
Quoted in "The Haiku Handbook" by William J Higginson, p244
I just love the image that conjurs-up in my minds eye.
And as a final fling in this post ... just so you don't forget that I enjoy punning ...
If I was banned from reading all types of Japanese verse, would that be senryu deprivation?