#kipling
In the middle of the journey of your life
you had wandered from the straight path.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and you took both of them.
You broke on through to the other side
but came back stateside pretty often.
Being lied about, you stopped lying.
From men and women you could sometimes require
the lineaments of gratified desire.
Clouds may wander, lonely,
but you’re pretty good at finding company.
Apr 28, 2024
Apr 28, 2024 at 2:28 AM UTC
If you can bear the brunt of a thousand callous elbows
And hold your ground among a throng of hungry fellows
If you can stand the stench of liars who rise above you
And keep your thoughts on the one or two who love you
If you can bend over backwards with stress and tension
Or stand up tall with undivided attention
Or lean from right to left with ease
And not just wiggle in the breeze
If you can sense your tragic flaw and give yourself a laugh
Or lift a shining kernel from a crusty stack of chaff
If you can chase the spirit of wanting that burns a man’s heart
And loosen the desire before it tears your soul apart
If you can drink from both cups of joy and sorrow
Or wait for now and drink tomorrow
Or see that coins are all two-sided
And know your fate is not decided
If you can take a page of Kipling and follow every letter
Or find your heroes’ faults and do their deeds one better
If you can stand alone and know that you’re right
And surrender your words for good works in plain sight
If you can bite your tongue and accept it with grace
Or let your thoughts go drifting in space
Or focus your mind on everything pleasant
And know that forever survives in the present
If you can forgive the crimes of those who write the rules
And let go of the past and the pranks and prep schools
Without forgetting what you stand for and why
And never believing it’s useless to try
If you can do what you can to steer clear of strife
And act with respect toward all forms of life
You’ll be the pillar, and carved out of wood
And – what’s more – you’ll be misunderstood
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 4:20 AM UTC
May I share with you ?
This simple Haiku
30/10/18.
May I share with you?
This uplifting poetry
With me all my life.
From Memory my favourite poem by Rudyard Kipling. “IF”.
If you can keep your head when all about you Are loosing there’s and blaming 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 ~and not make dreams your master ,
If you can think ~ and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters 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 them up with worn out tools.
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch and toss,
And loose ,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~ nor loose the common touch,
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 -which is more- you’ll be a Man,my son !
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now my father and mother gave me a copy of this poem when I was about 10.
I have tried to tick all these boxes ever since.
It may seem a little old fashioned now as it was written about 110 years ago.
It’s always helped me.
I needed each and every virtue today.
,
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 5:25 AM UTC
When a tiny child looks up
he is really
his own father looking back in time---
A fool there was
and he makes his prayer
to his mother's ****
to which he is a witness
(Even as you and I!)
To a rag and a bone
and a hank of hair
A child never wants to see
its mother's ****
once it's gotten a good look at it---
(We called her the woman who did not care)
But the fool, he called her his lady fair
(Even as you and I.)
& spends its life searching
for one that looks just like it---
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 12:10 AM UTC
Brick by brick the walls were disabled,
mortar cracked chipped and broken.
Walls being attacked and made unstable,
all the secrets are now not spoken.
For four years I chipped at those walls,
using clever ideas and worn out tools.
What I didn't plan on seeing coming at all,
was that she was a trap twisted for this fool.
All that is left is rubble and stone,
what's inside I can now find it.
Happiness over finding a new home,
I just couldn't have known what was inside it.
An unbreakable building of solid steel,
reaching to the clouds and down to the depths.
Black from emotion actually being real,
walls to protect it from the rest.
Suddenly I'm flung across the land far from it all,
looking back I can't help but feel some guilt.
The building is again surrounded with walls,
Every stone and piece of mortar rebuilt.
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 7:40 AM UTC
Life is a progression of r====
o====
a====
d====
s====
Making good choices lightens the load.
Feet firmly planted on the road less traveled
2020 Hindsight will make your dreams unravel.
-K.E. Carman
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 1:24 PM UTC
Tommy
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.
I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.
Yes, **makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;**
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.
We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.
**You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!**
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
If you can keep your dignity when all about you
Are losing theirs and pretending its not true,
If you can avoid contact when all men want you,
But straight faced act like you want them too,
If you can force a smile and never tire of smiling
Or being fake, never believe the lies
Or being grabbed, never give way to slapping
And yet listening to ***** just bat your eyes
If you can dance – and use it to men master
If you can flirt – and not fancy, play a game
If you can have nights o’ triumph and disaster
And come back to work just the same
If you can bear to hear some filth to you spoken
Uttered by fathers to get off on, the fools
Or watch brothers pretend they’ve just woken
And to our sisters, say they play by the rules
If you can make one big heap of cash earnings
And not think you won’t ever make a big loss
And save, and start again as if you’ve no savings
And never boast or act like the boss
If you can force your mind and body and sinew
To serve endless men like they’re the only one
And be a drunkard, when there’s not drop in you
Accept it’s a job and it’s a job to get done
If you can talk with rich men who have no virtue
Or sit with ****** – not attend to their crotch
If neither boss nor floor staff ever alert to you
If all the girls like you, but none too much
If you can stay how you feel this minute
With your innocent heart pure and head clear
Yours is the strip club and the cash that’s in it
And – which is more – you’re a stripper, my dear!
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
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---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
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-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
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---nor lose the common touch,
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---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 8:56 PM UTC