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So today, I want to talk about my favourite poem. HOLD IT RIGHT THERE. I know you’re thinking “Fantastic. A poetry review. This should be SO interesting.” or something like that, maybe with less defined sarcasm or something. Anyway, this isn’t a poetry review. This poem is one that really moved me, and poetry doesn’t really move me that often.
I’m not even that fond of reading poetry. I don’t identify with a poem to the extent of knowing the lines by heart or repeating it to myself when I’m feeling down. This one though, is freaking amazing.
The poem is called Invictus. It isn’t a long poem, and I assure you not an ordinary one either. It goes like this:
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 charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
And if that didn’t do it for you, how about this?
And if Morgan Freeman’s voice reciting THIS poem didn’t affect you, then I’m sorry, I’m afraid I won’t be able to reach out to you.
This clip is from the movie “Invictus” in which Morgan Freeman plays Nelson Mandela. While he was incarcerated in prison, he recited the poem to other prisoners and was inspired by the power your own self can have to change.
A little background about the poem. The poet William Ernest Henley had his leg amputated at the age of 17 due to it being affected by tuberculosis. We’re lucky enough to live in a time where modern medicine can be compared to magic. This was during the 1800s when there was no effective anaesthesia. I think you can imagine how incredibly painful it had to be. While he was recovering from the surgery in the infirmary, he was inspired to write this poem along with the influences of a destitute childhood.
I love this poem because it hands the power to you. You have the ability to do what you want. Yes, life is a bitch. But ultimately, your choices, your ability to handle pressure and your self-control influence the outcome.
William Ernest Henley was also inspired by the Victorian Stoicism and this poem is said to be a paragon of the British Stiff Upper Lip. Both of them basically say that the effect of emotions on the self must be weakened or negated.
Poetry is upto the interpretation of the reader of course and this is no different. I don’t really agree with those ideas and I’ve always seen this poem as motivation to not only stay strong, but also glue the broken pieces back together when you break down. Maintaining a “stiff upper lip” is all well and good, but we’re not Gods. We’re humans and no matter how strong you think you are, there’s always a point where you tumble and lose control. It’s okay to do that. It’s even good to do that. At least you’ve learnt something and unleashed all the pent up frustration.
My favourite part of the poem is the last two lines. “I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul.”
When I’m feeling depressed or when my self-esteem’s been beaten to an inch of its life, these words always help me regain my footing. I keep thinking “Why am I not good enough? Why do I keep failing? I don’t think I can ever accomplish anything.” and then I recite those lines and tell myself to stop whining.
Depression isn’t a good place to be in. You think you’re worthless and you’ll never win. You wonder what role you play in the scheme of things. You wonder if you’ll ever mean something to someone, or if you’ll ever do something you can be proud of. If you ever get those thoughts, read this poem. Believe me, it does wonders. Even better, listen to Morgan Freeman recite it. If it can inspire the likes of Nelson Mandela and Aung San Suu Kyi who really hit rock bottom, I’m sure it’ll do something for you.
I was in a pretty deep funk the other day and recited the poem in my head. Then I decided to take advantage of my somber mood to come up with a similar poem. It’s dark, long and shoddy especially when compared to Invictus. Sorry about that! And I know it’s depressing, but what can I say, depression is pretty inspiring. Poetry is purely a cathartic process to me. I don’t think too much about technique so it’s not very refined. So I end with this:
Shadows and the Sun
.
Blackness envelops me, and I cling like a child.
Where am I?
I see nothing but my sensibilities.
Am I dead?
This grotto in which I’ve sealed myself,
For how many times in my lifetime?
Has it realized itself completely?
I give it a penny, and it gives back a dime.
This mirth to see my hopeless haven,
The sorrow to feel such joy.
Am I dead?
I have no strength to fight.
Blackness, envelop me.
Let me rest in your anonymity.
I will stay in this dungeon,
Forever absent of expectation.
At least Hell is real, when everything else is a lie.
I really am dead.
“Surrender.” A voice in the darkness booms.
“Give me everything and you may stay here evermore.”
“Ah,I am finished. It’s all over now. I am free.”
“Do not go.” a small, familiar sound awakens me.
I look around the darkened halls still perceiving my sensibilities,
Which suddenly begin to tingle.
“Look up.” the little voice says.
“Let your feet carry you.”
I see light, the light I am so afraid of.
Am I dead or alive?
Blackness can envelop me,
With the phantoms haunting me forever.
Lightness can destroy me.
Or I can destroy the phantoms.
I am alive now.
Blackness now clings to me,
I struggle to break free.
The phantoms awake and whisper dark nothingness.
Creepers bind my legs and break my bones.
How do I stay alive?
My arms and legs have vigour.
Reality obliterates the phantoms.
My eyes are open to the sun,
And the light rescues me from my hopeless haven.
I will stay alive now.
The lightness can destroy me.
Phantoms from the dark will come once more.
Blackness has now given me armour.
I will fight in the fore.
Mango Mustache 