March 18, 2006
The Unconquerable Will
by William Ernest Henley (1849-1903)
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 master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Posted by andrewanissi at 09:53 PM
February 12, 2006
Charge of the Light Brigade
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
1.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
"Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
2.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Someone had blunder'd:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
3.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
4.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
5.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
6.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made,
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.
Posted by andrewanissi at 02:03 PM
February 11, 2006
Poetry From the American Northeast
Stormbringer
by Ellin Anderson, of Vermont
I. Dusk
Wrapped in a soft sea-haze the wind has peppered
with flies and blown sand,
the white sun forms a pearl.
Then, falling back down
into the late-day sky's
upwelling bed of mackerel cloud,
she nods off, hides her head, as if to say,
“Bye, folks, you’re on your own.”
But when the pumping storm begins to brag
in its revolving monotone,
“I’m going to kick your tires for you,”
I can shoot back, “I’ve seen all this before.”
There’s movement in the water,
there are voices off shore.
Storm-hungry souls
dance to the spreading surf,
huffing a gaze of salt. They look and look.
One has a tripod, a mother and child to snap.
A single shoe floats up, and I think of the man
who met his only maker here last night.
He trotted back and forth, nimbly as we,
then, suddenly,
he found himself sucked out five hundred feet
and fifty fathoms down!
This weather can rewrite a barrier beach
as shadows write the light.
Insect-veils drape the reeds,
while busy swallows pivot in the heat.
Meanwhile, in town,
the market swarms with eager folks
hoarding breadloaves, candles and water.
The gulls fly funny. Someone’s tossed them badly.
They wobble like frisbees over the circling cars,
laze in midair, like gyroscopes on wires,
or sit and freeze,
til someone drops her groceries.
Wandering, I watch while men remove
the parliament of chairs beside the pool.
The air’s sweat-thick.
Tomorrow the yard will be an Escher trick:
patched sky and detritus, the wet wind’s map.
Say your goodnights now,
and hunt out some safe lap —
Any storm means darkness for somebody.
For the full poem, click here.
Posted by andrewanissi at 01:23 PM
August 06, 2005
The Quest
by Aleister Crowley
A part, immutable, unseen,
Being, before itself had been,
Became. Like dew a triple queen
Shone as the void uncovered:
The silence of deep height was drawn
A veil across the silver dawn
On holy wings that hovered.
Posted by andrewanissi at 11:17 PM
The Optimist
by Aleister Crowley
Kill off mankind,
And give the Earth a chance!
Nature might find
In her inheritance
The seedlings of a race
Less infinitely base.
Posted by andrewanissi at 11:10 PM
August 05, 2005
I a-dore Thee, Evoe! I a dore Thee, I A O!
by Aleister Crowley
1. O Thou golden sheaf of desires,
That art bound by a fair wisp of poppies!
CHORUS: I a-dore Thee, Evoe! I a dore Thee, I A O!
Continue reading "I a-dore Thee, Evoe! I a dore Thee, I A O!"
Posted by andrewanissi at 09:25 PM