Poetry Tuesday — Do Not Go Gentle

If college taught me anything, and to be honest it didn’t teach me much, it’s how to read and appreciate good poetry. I’m not talking about the “let me write some words down, put the text over an image, and post to Facebook so people can tell me how well I rhyme ‘heart’ with ‘fart’” poetry. I’m talking about legit poetry. Poetry that speaks to you on a subconscious level. Poetry that makes you feel an emotion that isn’t inherently expressed in the poem. Poetry that makes you see, touch, taste, and feel the poem. Poetry that uses a sense of line, where the line reads differently than the sentence. Poetry that is, well, good.

So today begins my series of Poetry Tuesdays. Every week, I’ll bring you one of my favorite poems. The ones that really stick with me. The ones that speak to me. Don’t worry, I’m not going to torture you with personal poems, because quite frankly writing poetry is not my favorite. But I challenge you, take 10 minutes out of your ‘busy’ schedule and read the poems. Poetry is not easy to understand. Some are easier than others. But there truly is an art to writing a good poem. Let yourself feel whatever you want to feel. Don’t try to force yourself to understand it, and don’t feel bad if you don’t.

la_ca_1023_interstellar
If you’ve seen Interstellar, this one will sound familiar. Michael Caine does a wonderful job at reading the poem during the movie, and it still gives me chills. I have chills now, actually. Enjoy!

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night
– Dylan Thomas

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.

Until next time,
Steven

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