Oscar Wilde (1854-1900 / Dublin / Ireland)
Comments about Oscar Wilde
Quantum Mutata
THERE was a time in Europe long ago
When no man died for freedom anywhere,
But England's lion leaping from its lair
Laid hands on the oppressor! it was so
While England could a great Republic show.
Witness the men of Piedmont, chiefest care
Of Cromwell, when with impotent despair
The Pontiff in his painted portico
Trembled before our stern ambassadors.

Every person has some genius-ness in his cells...
brain...hands or body...
Needs the chance to appear
Needs the luck...
You have...I have
As small as it can be
Even very small
It is still geniusty...!
Wilde cryptic word spinning to somewhere in nowhere.
He was no genius, a bewildered poet who thought he was a genius.
Did the poem liberate him or anyone from its cage of flowery words bespeckled with Greek gods and goddesses?
I tend to doubt it. A love for his own intellect, displayful of a pruriant pride in pining.
He was a literary genius. I enjoy his poetry immensely. Conspirative Nature stole his life prematurely.