Day: Jul 9, 2011
Words are what I love above all other
components of creation’s rainbow rain.
Fulfilment beckons when I am smothered
beneath the stream of alphabetic skein.
For words can dance and sing and paint the sky;
they sculpt the night and heighten solar flares.
They influence cold minds to tears and sighs
and take the hardened-hearted unawares.
Yet, I say fulfilment only “beckons”,
for there’s a darker aspect to this verse;
one on which I never would have reckoned
but which is my secreted cri de Coeur.
For though with words I make ten thousand worlds,
they laugh at me for what has not unfurled.
© 2011, Alan Morrison
“They hate everyone who tries to be true to himself. That is what they cannot bear. They cannot bear someone to have an opinion or will of their own. They cannot bear the idea that someone should try to be free. Yet they wish they were free themselves but they do not dare. They are secretly ashamed that they are so cowardly so they avenge their bad conscience on the brave”
(Viennese music critic Hermann Bahr, 1909)
Bahr wrote this in his diary when he observed how the independent-minded, iconoclastic composers and artists of his time (such as Gustav Mahler and Gustav Klimt) were denounced and ridiculed in the press and had lies and smears spread everywhere about them. His observation about the secret jealousy of these slanderous critics is most insightful and applicable for all time.