April is Poetry Month: William Ernest Henley
William Ernest Henley
Invictus
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 charge with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
==
Mamacita says: This is one of many poems Mrs. Chandler made us memorize in Junior English. I am still amazed at the number of students who simply refused to do it and took a zero and didn’t give a tinker’s dam about it.
I know that many people do not believe in memorizing poetry or anything else because we can always look something up if we want or need to know it. I am sorry for these people.
I love memorizing things and can sit back in my airplane seat, close my eyes, and read entire books in my head. When we memorize something, we have it with us always. We can entertain ourselves from within. We are never bored. We don’t need batteries.
Even cooler than those things: we have tons of “stuff” to make connections with. Remember, education is all about the connections. The more we know, the more connections we can make.
I pity the little kids whose parents don’t help them learn nursery rhymes, poems, stories, and cool trivia before they begin kindergarten. I don’t think a child can ever make up for all that lost and wasted time, and parents who don’t do this are selfish dysfunctional assholes lazy know-nothings.
Then again, we can’t miss Days or Oprah or the big game; sheesh.
I still despise the father who refused to drive his spelling Bee winning son to the radio station to compete against the winners from the other schools because he was tired and didn’t want to miss the big game on TV. Whenever I see this man, I think of this. Whenever I picture this man in my mind, I see a fat dirty guy in a wifebeater shirt, belching, stinking, and demanding beer after beer to be brought to him because he’s too worthless to get up off his ugly ass to get it himself. This man is a prominent citizen (hahahahahaha), but I know what he really is.
He’s a selfish jerk who puts himself and his own wishes before the welfare of his children.
I hate this man, to be quite honest.
And this was over ten years ago. Yes, I tend to hold a grudge against people who don’t do right by a child.
I frankly don’t care WHAT this man says or does now. He may have changed his ways and become a nice guy, a model citizen, but I will never believe it. He put himself before his son, and that is all I will ever think of when I see him.
Don’t piss me off.
I fear that my personality type goes against the grain of the poems I love best. Wishful thinking on my part, maybe.
Happy Easter, 2011
Mamacita says:
Happy Easter, everyone.
What? Oh, oops. . . . .
Here. This is more like it. I do love those vintage Easter postcards. I hated growing up and finding out that those baby kittens were probably going to eat those baby chicks. I would also hate to have to tell you all how old I was before I realized that the bunnies weren’t really responsible for all those eggs.
But ultimately, this is Easter to me.
And isn’t it wonderful that so many of us, with so many different beliefs, can hang out here in the Blogosphere and get along great and love each other without having to constantly proselytize and try to sway each other to our own beliefs?
Oh, sure, those people are online too, but I don’t pay much attention to them. Not here; not anywhere.
It’s the people whose beliefs are quietly lived every day, the people who show me by example what their values are, who get my attention.
And who says God doesn’t have a sense of humor? If you don’t believe me, just look around for a minute or two. Think of your family.
And if you’re alone, look in the mirror.
See?
Happy Easter, dear internet people. Eat chocolate. Get together with family. Smile. Have some eggs. Rejoice over something.
It’s a good day for rejoicing. . . .
(Originally posted on Easter, 2005, but nothing’s changed since then.)
Oh, about that Easter Island head? It and its clone guard the entrance to the local city park. We carve limestone here.
Are you going to eat that Reese’s Egg?
Rules Kids Won't Learn In School
Oh, I know, I know; this list is everywhere and you’ve all seen it a zillion times. Well, make that a zillion and one.
For some reason, it just hit me in a good place today.
==
Rules Kids Won’t Learn in School
Rule #1. Life is not fair. Get used to it. The average teenager uses the phrase “it’s not fair” 8.6 times a day. You got it from your parents, who said it so often you decided they must be the most idealistic generation ever. When they started hearing it from their own kids, they realized Rule #1.
Rule #2. The real world won’t care as much about your self-esteem as your school does. It’ll expect you to accomplish something before you feel good about yourself. This may come as a shock. Usually, when inflated self-esteem meets reality, kids complain that it’s not fair. (See Rule No. 1)
Rule #3. Sorry, you won’t make $50,000 a year right out of high school. And you won’t be a vice president or have a chauffeur, either. You may even have to wear a uniform that doesn’t have a Gap label.
Rule #4. If you think your teacher is tough, wait ’til you get a boss. He doesn’t have tenure, so he tends to be a bit edgier. When you screw up, he is not going ask you how feel about it.
Rule #5. Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping. They called it opportunity. They weren’t embarrassed making minimum wage either. They would have been embarrassed to sit around talking about Kurt Cobain all weekend.
Rule #6. It’s not your parents’ fault. If you screw up, you are responsible. This is the flip side of “It’s my life,” and “You’re not the boss of me,” and other eloquent proclamations of your generation. When you turn 18, it’s on your dime. Don’t whine about it or you’ll sound like a baby boomer.
Rule #7. Before you were born your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way paying your bills, cleaning up your room and listening to you tell them how idealistic you are. And by the way, before you save the rain forest from the blood-sucking parasites of your parents’ generation try delousing the closet in your bedroom.
Rule #8. Life is not divided into semesters, and you don’t get summers off. Nor even Easter break. They expect you to show up every day. For eight hours. And you don’t get a new life every 10 weeks. It just goes on and on.
Rule #9. Television is not real life. Your life is not a sitcom. Your problems will not all be solved in 30 minutes, minus time for commercials. In real life, people actually have to leave the coffee shop to go to jobs. Your friends will not be as perky or as polite as Jennifer Aniston.
Rule #10. Be nice to nerds. You may end up working for them. We all could.
Rule #11. Enjoy this while you can. Sure, parents are a pain, school’s a bother, and life is depressing. Something or someone is always annoying you. But someday you’ll realize how wonderful it was to be kid. Maybe you should start now.
Rule #12. If your generation behaves itself better than your parents’ generation, maybe the example will inspire the next generation to behave itself altogether.
You’re welcome.
First posted on Jan. 22, 2008, and truer every day.
