I am (John Clare)

I am

by John Clare

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.

Ozymandia - Percy Shelly

The Tale of If...

If...

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!

~Rudyard Kipling~

The Tale of Ozymandias

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land Who said:
‘Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear;
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my work, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.’

~Percy Bysshe Shelley~

A poem so delightful to anyone who learns to recognize the essence, the core and the truth in life. Vanity rules on man's earthly work, thus leaving a hollow gap for any spiritual exploration...Darkness blinds mortal modern lives, and escapism becomes more dreanced in the spase of memory...

Shelly well establishes transcendental themes within his poem on how Man will always boast on his achievements, the lout, the land, the gold, the power! However mighty the human ambition may be though, every one can see that in the end all will lead to despair,to the absolute nothingness of the soul instead. For earthly accomplishments, relinquish the body of now, and not the soul of the Future.

"I am Ozymandias; Kings of Kings!", so he exclmais...with such proud gleam in his face that even the richest of men will be envious. But is that all? Ozymandias is just a flesh, that will soon come to pass and that will soon be long forgotten on this earthly land. Therefore what is the point of all this greed?

Ambition drives the people who have darkness inside of them....Hope drives the ones with light in their soul...Therefore Ozymandias should be nurtured in our Souls as the ultimate task of Man to strive for the unexplicable, the illogical, the divine and the holy.

For "nothing beside remains"....

Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here

Th Post-Anger Episode Tale

Being angry with everything around you does not solve anything. People are always angry these days. Because they are never satisfied with their lives. I am never satisfied and that angers me. My whinning and my complaining tires me. Why does man have to be so greedy, so insatiable, so ungodly miserable that they only see the bad things in their lives? I am like that most of the times and I hate my greediness because that makes me sad and grumpy and it prevents me from having fun and really enjoying myself. I did not use to be like that, I know. I used to be fun, smiley and so funny. Now I am grumpy, sad and always thinking of how to get by financially. I never use to think about money or its purpose. I never use to care or if I did I wasn't letting them take over my life.Now it seems that they are there in front of me, waiting at every corner, to suck me in, to make me bow to them, and whorship them. I am not a follower of money.I always abhorred money and what it does to people. It has my parents under constant stress and struggle for over twenty five years and I always thought I had to fight against money to not become one of its followers. But here I am. Angry as hell, and I am taking on the money. I hate people who love it and people who whorship it. People who make it their purpose in life and not their means. I hate the fact that people in today's society think that in order to progress you gotta have money, instead of brains or passion or hope. I hate the fact that I am angry. I hate the fact that I am force to be so many miles away from the people I love to be able to fight in order to give them half what they have given me so many years. But most of all I am anrgy I am angry. I am tired of being tired. And I hate it that I hate so many things, instead of expressing all the love and all the goodness in me I am cruel and harsh and I choose the path of loneliness to be able to offer things to others in the near future.

I am not an idealist and I am not a romantic. Although I'd very much like to be one. I am not a realist. I am a person living and beathing. With normal dreams and normal wants and needs. I want love. I will have love. I have love. I am thankful I have my two legs, one left, one right, I am thankful I have my two eyes, two hands and have a voice. I want to voice myself. Not mute it any longer. But I am bound by the social norms sadly. Therefore I will believe more and hope for the best. Calm myself and learn to relax when anger takes over. I will learn how to breathe, steady and with ease. And I will remember to smile and be thankful for the things I have and not be angered by the things I do not have.

Blessing in Disguise Tale

Given the past five minutes I am really reconsidering my plans for my future in the current house I am living in. in starting out a new life and not having much money you’re bound to accept any rudeness and unwelcoming-ness from random people who live with you under the same roof. You’re obligated to put up with them just because you have no choice no matter how much they degrade you and no matter how awful they treat you, cause lets face it folks; if you ain’t gotta much money or connections in a big city like London, you have to put up with a lot of shit to put yourself forward, don’t you?

So in the past year I have experienced abandonment, loneliness, degradation, aggressiveness, manipulation, isolation, exclusion and hate. All of them negative feelings I know. But in retrospect to everything that has happened to me I realized that within all these awful things, I am still alive. I am lucky enough to breathe, to see, to walk and speak. I am lucky to think. I am lucky to be able to watch movies, to be able to write and have dreams. Some people don’t even have that. Sadly. And I get so mad that even though I got abandoned and cast aside by all of my university friends, I am fighting my own fight alone, and on top of it I have to put up with my obnoxious housemates who all they seem to be thinking is Britney Spears’ shoes, Jordan and Peter Andre’s holidays and Lady GaGa’s dress. They blame you for everything they think that goes wrong, they assume you are the most sinfully boring creature in the world for not talking about Beyonce’s new hit and instead you’d like to talk about existentialism and nationalism and history. My god how boring I am to their eyes. How boring I sound to everyone to actually believe that humanity was not an accident and that we didn’t just happen to have happened in this third rock of our universe.

I am cynical in my own right and I hate air-headed people who cannot see beyond their surface. Dig deeper and you’ll a darkness so overwhelming you’d feel the urge to search for light for the rest of your life.

That is why I am most convinced that maybe it was a blessing that all my friends have left me. Maybe it was a blessing that I am struggling by myself for a better future away from my beloved parents, away from my beautiful ideal home country, and that maybe all of these things which I consider awful and sad that are happeing to me are making me a better person, making me even more mature and making me see life in a whole new way; perhaps a way that these housemates of mine will never be able to see. Everyone see the worlds as they are shaped to see it, some lighter than others some darker than others. Either way I resist to accept any form of defeat, even if at the end I do not get to accomplish exactly what I set out to do I still would be left with the life’s journey full of harsh but worthwhile experiences to tell perhaps some day to others.

The unlived angel

No tales for thee my child

But just a sweet woeful song

To guide you in the morn of your new dawn

And hold you up to the blue heavens of eternity

Fare thee well unlived angel

Carry on thy course in the New Kingdom

And pray the skies are more welcoming

But hold thy last breath in your mortal flesh for company

Folly was the harm done to thy not fully grown body

And selfless was your vain sacrifice

For the rest were carried out in humanity’s vanity

Instead of the soul’s chastity

You had your two young feet drowning in a river

Half blue and half red it turned the day your sun expired

And you decided to pass on for the explosion which was coming

So that others could profit from the innocent’s blood

And yet you reach your now immortal hands

And give hope for the oppressed

And a handkerchief for the woeful

And head towards the pathway of eternal light

I bid thee fare thee well

And may a New Sun guide your journey

Unknown unlived angel…