Poetry.
Some of you may read that word, remember poetry as taught in high school or college, and turn away from this post without listening.
A mistake.
Some may say, “Hey, you already posted this YouTube bit on Facebook!”
True. Well, gang, I am reposting.
Some of you may read that word, remember poetry as taught in high school or college, and turn away from this post without listening.
A mistake.
Some may say, “Hey, you already posted this YouTube bit on Facebook!”
True. Well, gang, I am reposting.
A book I am working on this evening, my book, reminded me of these poems.
The poems reminded me of the power of words, the power of poetry, the power of truth and beauty.
I have looked at the man in the glass and have at times seen a bum. I intend to rage, rage against the dying of the light. And I have made terrible mistakes in my lifetime—what man does not?—but in the last few years I have filled my unforgiving minutes with sixty seconds worth of distance run. At my age, the approach of death demands that effort. (Also the demands of my bank account.)
Take time to read some of the comments.
Enough of me.
Here are the three poems.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQljs9X720E
The poems reminded me of the power of words, the power of poetry, the power of truth and beauty.
I have looked at the man in the glass and have at times seen a bum. I intend to rage, rage against the dying of the light. And I have made terrible mistakes in my lifetime—what man does not?—but in the last few years I have filled my unforgiving minutes with sixty seconds worth of distance run. At my age, the approach of death demands that effort. (Also the demands of my bank account.)
Take time to read some of the comments.
Enough of me.
Here are the three poems.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQljs9X720E