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Husky Airways

Writer's Block: Poetry Break

What can I say, I'm a sucker for poetry that rhymes written by dead white dudes.

Write a poem or share one that you like.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.


Invictus, William Ernest Henley

Comments

How are you doing with the whole master of your fate thing?
Fate is definitely trying to be the master of me at the moment, but I'm sure I'll soon have it kicked into submission!
Dry clashed his harness in the icy caves
And barren chasms, and all to left and right
The bare black cliff clanged round him, as he based
His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang
Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels -
And on a sudden, lo! the level lake,
And the long glories of the winter moon.

-- La Morte D'Arthur - Alfred Lort Tennyson
Yes. That is a top fave.
Had to learn a chunk of it, once... ;)
As someone who to his core believes in self-determinism and individual rights/responsibilities, Invictus has for a long time been one of my favourite pieces of poetry.

My other love is Walt Whitman's "Animals" [from 'Leaves of Grass']
    I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain’d;
    I stand and look at them long and long.

    They do not sweat and whine about their condition;
    They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins;
    They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God;
    Not one is dissatisfied—not one is demented with the mania of owning things;
    Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago;
    Not one is respectable or industrious over the whole earth.

    So they show their relations to me, and I accept them;
    They bring me tokens of myself—they evince them plainly in their possession.

    I wonder where they get those tokens:
    Did I pass that way huge times ago, and negligently drop them?
    Myself moving forward then and now and forever,
    Gathering and showing more always and with velocity,
    Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among them;
    Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers;
    Picking out here one that I love, and now go with him on brotherly terms.
Oh, that is lovely - thank you.
All good.