Poet’s Corner
Inspired by a poem sent in from an avid reader of Moor Times (see ‘A Word From The Editor’) Poet’s Corner was started to encourage people to send in their most loved poem, whether it be well known or in fact written by themselves it makes no difference. The use of language in poetry, and in song, has always managed to touch people in a way that very few things can and invariably we all have a personal favourite. Here are some that readers have sent in. I hope you like them as well.
Submitted Poems
A Word From The Editor
After receiving the contribution from ‘C’ last month entitled ‘The Light’ I was inspired. I am the first to admit that I’m a bit of a cultural philistine but it was beautifully written and the sentiment was ‘spot on’. It got me thinking that if a monosyllabic moron like me appreciated it maybe we could get some interest generated in a bit of poetry on the Moor Times.
I don’t care who you are or what you do, we all have a favourite poem. It could be something you’ve written yourself or by a friend or relative. It could be one of the famous ones. It could be a Limerick or something from Shakespeare. What I would like you to do is submit your best loved poems to us and we can publish them so that all can see and comment. Perhaps you could explain why you like your particular favourite and why it has a special significance for you? So whatever you are doing… wandering lonely as a cloud, comparing someone to a summer’s day or you are old and wearing purple, charge into the valley of death and send it to us.
As the editor I am allowed to select two but if either of my selections are also yours still write in and let us know why ‘it does it for you’.
My first selection would have to be ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling.
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on
you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their
doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't
deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good,
nor talk too wise:
If you can dream -
If you can think -
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors
just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to
make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop
and build 'em up with worn-
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-
And
lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If
you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are
gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them:
'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings -
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count
with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds'
worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And -
I suspect that this would be the top of many a man’s list and I have probably spoilt it all for you but it was my idea anyway. I think men like this poem because it sets out a catalogue of ideals that, lets face it are nigh on impossible to live up to, but if achieved will allow you to be a man. It is almost, dare I say it, like the ‘Ten Commandments’ of being an ‘hombre’ and the implication is that this is to be passed to your son. We men have this hormonal urge to pass something on to our sons and I guess this list of principles is as good as anything.
I was about eight years old when I first saw this poem. It was framed and it hung on the wall of our school dormitory. I know I did not understand it fully then but over the years I have reread it and by jove it’s heady stuff. I know it reeks of Empire, fair play and stiff upper lip but it is a far better credo than win at all cost, the end justifies the means and can I have some more credit please.
Just once during a cricket match I would like to see a batsmen after being bowled out by a peach of a ‘yorker’, take off his glove and walk up to the bowler, shake his hand and say: “Well bowled!” Wouldn’t that be something.
Do you remember when tennis players, after winning the match, would leap over the net and congratulate the loser. Nowadays they either roll around the floor in ecstasy or shake their little fists in the air.
There have always been cads and bounders (does anybody know what those words mean today) but the problem now is that it is considered good to be one. You are a clever guy if you can pull the wool over someone’s eyes. You must be aggressive towards your opponent and beat him by fair means or foul. It is not the taking part, you must win. Say whatever your boss wants to hear just to get on. Never mind what is right or wrong. I could write the modern day ‘If’ and it would be a sorry inventory of disreputable acts and doctrine.
Right! Now that I’ve got that off my chest … my second selection is ‘Desiderata’
by Max Ehrmann.
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.
Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
You could say that this is just another ‘Ten Commandments’ like ‘If’ but I think it is subtly different. I particularly like the line ‘Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit’. God, there’s some sense in that.
I use this poem when I am a little stressed with life, when things are starting to get me down and when I start getting angry with people. The first line really does do it for me; ‘Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there may be in silence’.
Like ‘C’ I love this place and part of the reason I am here is the light. Another reason is the silence. It really does make a difference to listen to the silence. Compare it to the hustle and bustle of where most of us have come from and you soon realise that this place is special. ‘Be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be’.
I look forward to hearing from you and reading about your poems and what makes them special to you. Thank you for reading Moor Times.
Peter Smith