Monthly Archives: January 2015

The Career Trajectory of an Honest Man

The Senior Sales Manager was overseas canvassing customers. An evening out drinking with a customer, the client extended an invitation to visit a brothel. The Manager demurred, but as the client was insistent, to humour him he went along.

It was an upmarket establishment, like a luxury hotel. The client disappeared and the Manager waited for him admiring the decor and ignoring the girls. An extremely beautiful young woman approached and asked if there was anything he wanted. He smiled and said – no, he was waiting for his friend. Shortly afterwards an even  more beautiful woman approached him. Again he declined explaining he was happily married. She  then asked perhaps he might be interested in a young man. Spluttering in his drink, the Manager explained, no, he wasn’t interested. He was just accompanying a friend.

When his friend reappeared the Manager was thankful to leave and thought no more about the incident.

 

The “friend” left his report with his Controller. The Controller was not well pleased. He called the Manager’s secretary to a meeting. She explained her boss was completely above board. His credentials were sound. His technical, business and human skills were first rate and his pre-eminence in his field was well deserved. He ran a tight ship. The least sign of malpractice and that employee was given his marching orders.

The Controller reported to his Superior.

“We can’t have a man of that social rank, pre-eminent in his field not under our control”, he was told. “He stamps on illegitimate activities in his subordinates; he rejects bribes and can’t be blackmailed. We can’t control him”.

The Superior threw the file back at the Controller. “Destroy his career. Any method available”.

 

A year later the ex-Manager was living in a squalid bed-sit. His wife had inexplicably left him, taking the house. He had hit the bottle hard and had been invited to hand in his resignation. He had worked his way up from nothing, now he was back to nothing. At 49 his working life was over. He took another drink. It was the only thing that took away the pain.

The “friend” reported to his Controller. “And his replacement?”

“One of ours”.

“Good work” said the Controller. “In a year that company will be completely under our control – or out of business”.

……………….

Copyright 2015 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot

 

Futility

Strangers And Poetry

We spoke about politics

And the way things

Are going,

How wealth is piling

Like a snowstorm blowing

At the feet of a few,

We spoke about governments

Their way of controlling,

We spoke about fears

With a sense of knowing

There’s little we can do.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Coincidences”www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

8:02 PM January 22, 2015

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Haiku – Fangs

Reblogged with kind permission.

One Writer Ranting

Centuries traveled

Showing the world my darkness

With each little bite

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For more prompts like “show” go here: https://haikuhorizons.wordpress.com/

The first use of the word “vampire” in English wasn’t until 1734, when it was mentioned in a book called Travels of Three English Gentlemen. Although the idea of the “undead” returning to attack the living is ancient and occurs in many cultures, the bloodsucking vampire we recognise today arose in south-eastern Europe in the 17th century. Versions of the word “vampire” exist in all the Slavic languages and some linguists have traced it back to ubyr, the Tatar word for “witch”. via QI: Quite interesting facts about vampires – Telegrap

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Learnt from Experience

 

On the battlefield screaming

men dying in the carnage

Prayed.

The gods laughed.

Fools. Praying to the god

of your enemy

never wins the day.

…………..

Copyright 2015 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot

Old Man

Edward Thomas Poetry

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Old Man, or Lad’s-love, – in the name there’s nothing
To one that knows not Lad’s-love, or Old Man,
The hoar-green feathery herb, almost a tree,
Growing with rosemary and lavender.
Even to one that knows it well, the names
Half decorate, half perplex, the thing it is:
At least, what that is clings not to the names
In spite of time. And yet I like the names.

The herb itself I like not, but for certain
I love it, as someday the child will love it
Who plucks a feather from the door-side bush
Whenever she goes in or out of the house.
Often she waits there, snipping the tips and shrivelling
The shreds at last on to the path, perhaps
Thinking, perhaps of nothing, till she sniffs
Her fingers and runs off. The bush is still
But half as tall as she, though it is as old;
So…

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When Love Is Dead

Native American Poetry written before the 1900's

When Love Is Dead

When last shall kiss the lips

   Of love when Love is dead?

Who last shall fall fold her hands

   And pillow soft her head?

Who last shall vigil keep

    Beside her lonely bier?

   I ask, and from the dark

Cold night without, I hear

The mystic answer: “I

   Her Mother, Earth, shall press

Her lips the last in my

   Infinite tenderness.”

Text from Changing is Not Vanishing (Parker 2011)

Image from Google Books Alexander Posey: The Creek Indian Poet. 

“When Love is Dead” was published in 1900 in The Poems of Alexander Lawrence edited by Minnie H. Posey. The poem written by Alexander Posey appears distinctively different in form in its publication in 1910 in comparison to the 2011 print version found in Parker’s Changing is Not Vanishing. Although the content of the poem is similar in both editions…

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Her unmoving eyes

Reblogged with kind permission.

Uncertain Tales

“Tell me your story.” Vic whispered to the lady, staring into the statue’s unmoving eyes. He had visited the museum every day for weeks now, solely to obsess over this statue.

Furtively checking he was alone, he leant forward and quickly kissed the lady on the lips. She felt cold, much colder than the marble should be, and Vic’s feet give way under him. He tumbled into darkness.

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Heinlein’s Rules for Success in Writing

Phil Ebersole's Blog

You must write.

You must finish what you have written.

You must put what you have written on the market.

You must keep it on the market until sold.

Robert A. Heinlein was possibly the leading American science fiction writer of the 1940s and 1950s and a popular writer until his death in 1988.  He graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1929 and served as a radio communications officer on the USS Lexington, the U.S. Navy’s first modern aircraft carrier. He was discharged from the Navy in 1934 with pulmonary tuberculosis, and tried different ways of earning a living until he submitted a story to Astounding Science Fiction magazine in 1939.

He wrote a series of young adult novels which I read as a teenage boy, and I read most of his novels and stories during his lifetime.

His rules for success in writing is that most people who…

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I Want Something

unbuttoned or undone

Day dreams of woven silk
I want something….

I open the fridge
There is cheese, ham, pickles, yogurt, butter, jam, apples, lettuce, grapes, lemons, chocolate, wine…
No. That’s not it.

I open the pantry
Coffee, infusions, teas from India, China and the south seas.
Cookies, crackers, canned peas, ketchup, mustards, pasta of all shapes, rice, basmati and long, curry, pesto and tomato sauce…
No, not that.

I open the garden gate
Roses and daisies say hello, the bougainvillea waves, the rosemary smiles and the lavender nods. The grass lies down, the fern perks up, an out of breath lantana manages a whisper, and a camellia gives me a bloom and promises more…
No. Not quite.

I look to the sky
Daydreams of curly sheep and downy blankets, of woven silks and flannel ball gowns float by. I fly with gulls, complain with mourning doves, cringe at the squabbles of magpies, look for the sun while…

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