Poems..

[Guest]

 

How Did You Die? by Edmund Vance Cooke

 

Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven soul and fearful?
Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it,
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts,
But only how did you take it?
You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that?
Come up with a smiling face.
It's nothing against you to fall down flat,
But to lie there -- that's disgrace.
The harder you're thrown, why the higher you bounce;
Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isn't the fact that you're licked that counts,
It's how did you fight -- and why?
And though you be done to the death, what then?
If you battled the best you could,
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why, the Critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
And whether he's slow or spry,
It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts,
But only how did you die?

 

[EnigmaticWorld]

 

[Avoiceinthecrowd]

Source: The Seagull Reader (Literature) by Joseph Kelly page 505;

"Randall Jarrell
1914-1965

 

In 1942 Jarrell joined the Army Air Force and spent World War II teaching celestial navigation to flyers in Arizona. During these years, he wrote "The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner," which he published in 1945. Jarrell explained that the machine gunner in the plexiglass sphere attached to the underside of a World War II bomber reminded him of a fetus still in it's mother's womb. The hose in the last line, Jarrell noted, would have been a steam hose;

The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in it's belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from it's dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose."

 

 

Edited May 26, 2024 by Avoiceinthecrowd

[Avoiceinthecrowd]

 

 

"Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

(1899)

 

This beautiful poem was integrated into the script for the dystopian film "Equilibrium" where the character played by Sean Bean is shot dead for reading Yeats in secret in a society that has pharmaceutically removed emotion from human life, in fact made emotions an offence punishable by death.

 

 

Sean Bean utters the two last lines of this poem in the film.

 

 

 

Edited May 31, 2024 by Avoiceinthecrowd

[Eagle Eye]

This is an excerpt from a book, The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran. The entire book reads like a poem.

 

From the chapter ‘On Giving’:

 

   You give but little when you give of your possessions.

   It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.

   …

   There are those who give little of the much which they have- and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome.

   And there are those who have little and give it all.

   These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.

   There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.

   And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism.

   And there are those who give, and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;

   They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.

   Through the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes, He smiles upon the earth.

 

[Mr Crabtree]

When I was teaching the newly qualified bus drivers the routes for our particular bus garage, I made up a little ditty and hung it in the drivers cab!

A BUS DRIVER'S LIFE IS FULL OF STRIFE,

WITH TEARS OF JOY AND SORROW,

AND IF YOU THINK TODAY'S BEEN BAD,

JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW!

SUCH WAS THE BOREDOM OF DAILY LIFE AT WHITEHAWK BUS GARAGE!

 

[Mr Crabtree]

On 5/31/2024 at 3:21 AM, Avoiceinthecrowd said:

 

 

"Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

(1899)

 

This beautiful poem was integrated into the script for the dystopian film "Equilibrium" where the character played by Sean Bean is shot dead for reading Yeats in secret in a society that has pharmaceutically removed emotion from human life, in fact made emotions an offence punishable by death.

 

 

Sean Bean utters the two last lines of this poem in the film.

 

 

 

I loved that film!

[Eagle Eye]

2 hours ago, Mr Crabtree said:

When I was teaching the newly qualified bus drivers the routes for our particular bus garage, I made up a little ditty and hung it in the drivers cab!

A BUS DRIVER'S LIFE IS FULL OF STRIFE,

WITH TEARS OF JOY AND SORROW,

AND IF YOU THINK TODAY'S BEEN BAD,

JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW!

SUCH WAS THE BOREDOM OF DAILY LIFE AT WHITEHAWK BUS GARAGE!

How interesting, Mr. Crabtree! Ahhh yes, the boredom that can be so inherent in driving a bus alone or even spending time in the garage. This I am all too familiar with, as I spent perhaps too many years in that field. When driving alone, I used to regale myself with scat music at the top of my lungs. Only when alone, of course, and particularly when I would get drowsy! Perhaps the stray dogs would hear me and want to howl along?

 

One of my favorite amusements was to invent pneumonic devices to help me memorize the street names that I would have to frequent. The silly words I used most often were, “Little Children Yawn During Summer. Do Not Belittle My Career Over Just Money. Thank God Properly Please.” If you had to string all this together more cohesively, perhaps it could be, “Learn Clearly Your Directed Sentences. Definite Neurological Boosts May Configure Outright Jogged Memory. Together Great People Pronounce.”

 

Tangentially I may add, in relation to location memory, there could be much said for neuroplasticity. It is the brain’s ability to change its structure in response to new experiences or challenges. Neuroplasticity is a continuous process that occurs throughout the life of your brains, mmm brains…. Evidence of this can be found in the brains of mammals that rely on location memory, such as squirrels or London taxi drivers. The latter would undergo a rigorous four year long course of study called, “The Knowledge.” They had to memorize the names of some 25,000 streets and how they interlocked, if memory serves me correctly. They were expected to be quite the faithful guides! The posterior hippocampus is responsible for location memory. Brain scans indicate that the posterior hippocampi of squirrels and London taxi drivers are enlarged. So next time you forget how to get somewhere, that is the posterior that should get a little spanking! Way to talk about being a, “butt man”, huh?

 

[Eagle Eye]

Mother Teresa's Anyway Poem:

 

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered;

Forgive them anyway.

 

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

 

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

 

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

 

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

 

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

 

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

 

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

 

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

 

[Eagle Eye]

20 hours ago, Eagle Eye said:

pneumonic devices

I misspelled it! ‘Mnemonic devices!’ Drat, that old noodle in the noggin!