A poetry presentation

You might not believe it, but I fear poetry. It is even hard for me to fully under-stand. I guess I am just more intimidated by it more than anything. Do not get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy poetry to its fullest extent, I just do not feel that I am good enough writing it (that is what I said about the writing test, but look at me J). So, this project put up a challenge to me.

I feel an appropriate theme in poetry is individuality. Now I do not mean dis-similarity or eccentricity. I do not think that everyone should be a leader or anything in that direction. If that was so, nothing would get done. Besides, not everyone has leader-ship abilities. Conversely, I think people should have similarity, but a unique or individ-ual trait that separates them from others. I feel that this is extremely essential in a per-sons personality. I know, it seems confusing. That is just like me, I am intimidated by poetry, yet I just have to pick a complex theme.

We Will Write a Custom Essay Specifically
For You For Only $13.90/page!


order now

A lot of poets talk about individuality and how themselves or something in nature, etc., are unique. But what I do not see is the writing of how individuality can very often at times be hurtful and damaging to ones feelings and ego. When a lot of poets, or authors of any stripe talk about individuality, they talk about their high aspirations of being individual, or how being individual has made them stand out for the good. Just as a mirror has two faces, I feel that goes the same with any issue.

Out of all the poems that I looked at, this was the only one that I found talking about individuality for the worse:
THE MEN THAT DONT FIT IN
Theres a race of men that dont fit in,
A race that cant stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.


If they just went straight they might go far;
They are strong and brave and true;
But theyre always tired of the things that are,
And they want the strange and new.

They say: “Could I find my proper groove,
What a deep mark I would make!”
So they chop and change, and each fresh move
Is only a fresh mistake.


And each forgets, as he strips and runs
With a brilliant, fitful pace,
Its the steady, quiet, plodding ones
Who win in the lifelong race.

And each forgets that his youth has fled,
Forgets that his prime is past,
Till he stands one day, with a hope thats dead,
In the glare of the truth at last.

ROBERT W. SERVICE

Here are a few other poems that I liked (some of them are my favorites) that dis
cuss individuality:
THE WINNERS
What is the moral? Who rides may read.

When the night is thick and the tracks are blind,
A friend at a pinch is a friend indeed,
But a fool to wait for the laggard behind.

Down to Gehenna or up to the Throne,
He travels the fastest who travels alone.


While hands cling to the tightened rein,
Slipping the spur from the booted heel,
Tenderest voices cry “Turn again,”
Red lips tarnish the scabbarded steel,
High hopes faint on a warm hearth stone
He travels the fastest who travels alone.

One may fall but he falls by himself
Falls by himself with himself to blame,
One may attain and to him is the pelf,
Loot of the city in Gold or Fame.

Plunder of earth shall be all his own
Who travels the fastest and travels alone.


Wherefore the more be ye holpen and stayed
Stayed by a friend in the hour of toil,
Sing the heretical song I have made
His be the labor and yours be the spoil.

Win by his aid and the aid disown
He travels the fastest who travels alone!
RUDYARD KIPLING
INVICTUS
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.

WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY
OUR HEROS
Heres a hand to the boy who has courage
to do what he knows to be right;
When he falls in the way of temptation,
He has a hard battle to fight.

Who strives against self and his comrades
Will find a most powerful foe.

All honor to him if he conquers.

A cheer for the boy who says “No!”
Theres many a battle fought daily
The world knows nothing about;
Theres many a brave little soldier
Whose strength puts a legion to rout.

And he who fights sin singlehanded
Is more of a hero, I say,
Than he who leads soldiers to battle
And conquers by arms in the fray.


Be steadfast, my boy, when youre tempted,
To do what you know to be right.

Stand firm by the colors of manhood,
And you will oercome in the fight.

“The right,” be your battle cry ever
In waging the warfare of life,
And God, who knows who are the heroes,
Will give you the strength for the strife.

PHOEBE CARY

IMMORTALITY
Two caterpillars crawling on a leaf
By some strange accident in contact came;
Their conversation, passing all belief,
Was that same argument, the very same,
That has been “proed and conned” from man to man,
Yea, ever since this wondrous world began.

The ugly creatures,
Deaf and dumb and blind,
Devoid of features
That adorn mankind,
Were vain enough, in dull and wordy strife,
To speculate upon a future life.

The first was optimistic, full of hope;
The second, quite dyspeptic, seemed to mope.

Said number one, “Im sure of our salvation.”
Said number two, “Im sure of our damnation;
Our ugly forms alone would seal our fates
And bar our entrance through the golden gates.

Suppose that death should take us unawares,
How could we climb the golden stairs?
If maidens shun us as they pass us by,
Would angels bid us welcome in the sky?
I wonder what great crimes we have committed,
That leave us so forlorn and so unpitied.

Perhaps weve been ungrateful, unforgiving;
Tis plain to me that lifes not worth the living.”
“Come, come, cheer up,” the jovial worm replied,
“Lets take a look upon the other side;
Suppose we cannot fly like moths or millers,
Are we to blame for being caterpillars?
Will that same God that doomed us crawl the earth,
A prey to every bird thats given birth,
Forgive our captor as he eats and sings,
And damn poor us because we have not wings?
If we cant skim the air like owl or bat,
A worm will turn for a that.”
They argued through the summer; autumn nigh,
The ugly things composed themselves to die;
And so, to make their funeral quite complete,
Each wrapped him in his little winding sheet.

The tangled web encompassed them full soon,
Each for his coffin make him a cocoon,
All through the winters chilling blast they lay
Dead to the world, aye, dead as human clay.

Lo, spring comes forth with all her warmth and love;
She brings sweet justice from the realms above;
She breaks the chrysalis, she resurrects the dead;
Two butterflies ascend encircling her head.

And so this emblem shall forever be
A sign of immortality.

JOSEPH JEFFERSON



IT COULDNT BE DONE
Somebody said that it couldnt be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldnt” but he would be one
Who wouldnt say so till hed tried.

So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.

He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldnt be done, and he did it.


Somebody scoffed: “Oh, youll never do that;
At least no one ever has done it”;
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we know hed begun it.

With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldnt be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.

But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off you coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That “cannot be done,” and youll do it.

EDGAR A. GUEST

BE THE BEST OF WHATEVER YOU ARE
If you cant be a pine on the top of the hill,
Be a scrub in the valleybut be
The best little scrub by the side of the rill;
Be a bush if you cant be a tree.


If you cant be a bush be a bit of the grass,
And some highway happier make;
If you cant be a muskie then just be a bass
But the liveliest bass in the lake!
We cant all be captains, weve got to be crew,
Theres something for all of us here,
Theres big work to do, and theres lesser to do,
And the task you must do is the near.


If you cant be a highway then just be a trail,
If you cant be the sun be a star;
It isnt by size that you win or you fail
Be the best of whatever you are!
DOUGLAS MALLOCH

THE DRUM
daddy says the world is
a drum tight and hard
and I told him
Im gonna beat
out my own rhythm
NIKKI GIOVANNI


THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
then tool the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

ROBERT FROST

In conclusion, I learned a lot from this project, the main theme being:
DO IT NOW!
If youve got a job to do,
Do it now!
If its one you wish were through,
Do it now!
If youre sure the jobs you own,
Do not hem and haw and groan
Do it now!
Dont put off a bit of work,
Do it now!
It doesnt pay to shirk,
Do it now!
If you want to fill a place
And be useful to the race,
Just get up and take a brace
Do it now!
Dont linger by the way,
Do it now!
Youll lose if you delay,
Do it now!
If other fellows wait,
Or postpone until its late,
You hit up a faster gait
Do it now!
UNKNOWN
The theme of this poem is definitely obvious, dont procrastinateDO IT NOW!
UNTITLED
Because I am different, does that make me wrong?
I thought being unique made you strong.

I am a man, no less than any man,
But you do not accept me for who I really am.

You want me to dress, actbe an imitation of you.

Im not allowed to think as I want to.

In a world where individuality is a tool,
The unspoken word is that conformity rules.

The only way you can expect to be your own person
You cant, and still be accepted.