Poetry meme
When you see this meme, post a poem on your LJ.
Funny thing is, I like reading poetry. I haven't gotten into it enough, but for some reason, the rhythms of poetry fascinate me. I think I inherited my mom's love for music, but it's mostly gone to waste. >_>; I adored learning how to play the guitar during my senior semester, and I also once tried to learn a song on the piano for kicks. I swear, if I was hearing, I'd probably be way more into music than I am now. And for this reason, I can see my hearing self as a girl who would be horrified at the idea of losing her hearing, leading to one of my pet theories that I seriously pissed off God in some alternate universe where I'm hearing and being deaf is my punishment for that. XD;
I first saw this poem my senior semester of high school and I've loved it ever since:
Dylan Thomas
Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Funny thing is, I like reading poetry. I haven't gotten into it enough, but for some reason, the rhythms of poetry fascinate me. I think I inherited my mom's love for music, but it's mostly gone to waste. >_>; I adored learning how to play the guitar during my senior semester, and I also once tried to learn a song on the piano for kicks. I swear, if I was hearing, I'd probably be way more into music than I am now. And for this reason, I can see my hearing self as a girl who would be horrified at the idea of losing her hearing, leading to one of my pet theories that I seriously pissed off God in some alternate universe where I'm hearing and being deaf is my punishment for that. XD;
I first saw this poem my senior semester of high school and I've loved it ever since:
Dylan Thomas
Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.