Tag Archives: poems

The Power Of The Dog Kipling

I remember losing my previous guide dog, a golden lab/retriever called Drew, in March 2011. She was well in the morning but, come evening she started to pass blood and a day later my friend was dead. I recollect coming across the below poem shortly after Drew died and whenever I read it I’m overcome with emotion. This poem will, I believe resonate with anyone who has ever loved and lost a dog. They are so, so much more than mere animals.

 

The Power of the Dog

 

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THERE is sorrow enough in the natural way

From men and women to fill our day;

And when we are certain of sorrow in store,

Why do we always arrange for more?

Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware

Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

 

Buy a pup and your money will buy

Love unflinching that cannot lie

Perfect passion and worship fed

By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.

Nevertheless it is hardly fair

To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

 

When the fourteen years which Nature permits

Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,

And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs

To lethal chambers or loaded guns,

Then you will find – it’s your own affair, –

But … you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.

 

When the body that lived at your single will,

With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!),

When the spirit that answered your every mood

Is gone – wherever it goes – for good,

You will discover how much you care,

And will give your heart to a dog to tear!

 

We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,

When it comes to burying Christian clay.

Our loves are not given, but only lent,

At compound interest of cent per cent,

Though it is not always the case, I believe,

That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve;

For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,

A short-time loan is as bad as a long –

So why in – Heaven (before we are there)

Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

What Is To Write – Guest Post By Anum Safique

Many thanks to Anum Safique for her excellent guest post. Anum’s blog contains a wealth of poetry and other writings many of which have a dark and/or a mysterious theme. You can visit Anum’s blog here, http://atopsyturvyworld.wordpress.com/

 

 

What is to write?
Writing is not so different from reading. It is only a stronger dose of catharsis. Picking up a beautiful book to read that makes you cry and laugh at the same time, that brings out pent up emotion can be wonderfully relieving. However, it can never match the experience of bleeding out your feelings through the pen.

As a young girl, I used to read fantastical stories about fairies and witches, magic and dragons. I used to love reading about parallel worlds and imaginary creatures. I remember there was a time that I used to live my life through the eyes of Harry Potter, wishing for the existence of Hogwarts and dreaming of one day finding its magic. Then I discovered Narnia, and well let’s just say that I was inspired to dream even more. No matter how much stories about magical worlds, parallel dimensions, vampires, werewolves, fairies and angels inspire me to create my own tales, they never inspired me enough to get down to writing. Instead there were two novels I read in my literature classes that truly got me to start creating stories of my own.

I still write about fantastical creatures and worlds that possibly never existed or will never exist, but what inspired me to begin writing were two novels exploring the human mind. The first one that shall always remain one of my favorite reads of all times is William Golding’s “Lord of the Flies”. It was a journey into the darkness that resides within every human soul. It was the discovery of the beast that we look for in the world beyond ourselves, but which is a part of us that we never acknowledge or embrace.

The second book was Margaret Atwood’s “Cat’s Eye”, which was one of the most interesting psychological novels I have ever come across. The fact that it was about the journey of a woman through life enabled me to relate to it. However, it was the protagonist’s cathartic expression through art which truly intrigued me, and I shall admit that I started sketching before I began to write. Unfortunately, I soon discovered that art was not really my form of expression; or rather my hand was never able to create what my mind envisioned; or even more I accurately, I doodled. *Shrugs*

So my next try was to write fanfiction, and surprisingly, people actually liked what I wrote. But writing novellas while acing your university exams was not a piece of cake, so my commitment to writing was tested and I ended up abandoning my fanfiction ventures. However, as Allen Curnow articulates through his poem “Continuum” that someone who closes the door on the artist inside them can never really get rid of that part of themselves. It follows them behind like a haunting ghost.

Consequently, I switched styles and started writing poetry. I still write about the same things but poetry takes less time to type yet admittedly, more time to think. But for some reason, perhaps, that the tone and rhythm of poetry matches that of your soul, it enables you to express more than prose could ever manage.

More recently, I have gathered inspiration from music and lyrics. My favorites being the eccentric songs of “Panic! At the Disco” and the dark yet amazing albums of “30 Seconds from Mars”. Their music may not be very mainstream but if you actually get to listening to the poetry in their verses, your mind will be blown away at the genius of it all. To be able to express the ordinary in an extraordinary has always been my hobby. To play with words is the best game I have ever played. And I believe that everyone should give it a try.

Coming back to the original question, what is it to write? It is dreaming. It is expression. It is catharsis. It is relief. It is art. To write is to put a piece of your soul on paper and let others read it, and interpret their own souls through it. It is discovering the beast inside you and it is the taming of your darkness. It is a game. And undeniably, it is beautiful.

Last but not at all the least, I would like to thank Kevin for giving me this opportunity to share my thoughts with his readers. Also for honoring me by reading my poetry and enjoying my play with words.

Regards,
Anum Shafique

 

ROSE

Beautiful red rose your petals barely opened. Your scent overpowers me, I am giddy with desire. Softly I stretch out my fingers gently caressing your petals. A thing so lovely and delicate so easily destroyed. Oh to possess you rose, to pick and make you mine. Once picked your splendour fades you are a thing no longer desired, onto the compost heap you go your sweetness forgotten forever.