Poem of the day: INTRODUCTION

Art is to my mind as a soothing beverage is to the body but of all the art works and expressions I adore none has given me the strangest of ecstatic passions as poetry. A discipline furnished with the eternal poetic words of Edgar Alan Poe, Rumi David Whyte, Goethe and many such master poets . These word written in rhythm and stanza have brought me great comfort and reflection in times of sorrow, anxiety and depression, ignited my passions in my quest for creativity, offer me good counsel when it was sorely lacking and most of all excited my senses with the aesthetics of a symbolic universe and my place in it. It is with this in mind that I have begun a series called “poem of the day” to share with the timeless beauty of a world which words can barely describe. My first of such poem is the lyrical admonition of a father to his on the nature,virtues and joys of the masculine ideal written by Famed English Journalist Poet and Novelist; ” Rudyard Kipling” in the poem “If”. Enjoy!

If Trump Were a Poet, He'd Be Rudyard Kipling - WSJ
Rudyard Kipling



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!

Thank you for stopping by and having a read! I hope this post and poem were a some help to you in uncertain times. If so, leave a comment or and some feedback if you would be so kind. Your feedback is immensely valuable in making future content and welcomed. If there are poem you would like to see posted, please feel free to write them down in the comments below. Thank you and have a great day!