IF

if your life must be preserved

simply as a remnant of past glory

functioning as a recycler of food

and memory

 

if you possess no means of escape

from those who may love or hate you

or worst of all be indifferent,

or stare as if you were a shadow

without apparent form,

 

if you can be this and still keep hope

for love of a greater dream

past the stumbling block of life

and look to the sky

 

if you can do this and smile

without needing to know why

and despise the bestiality of it all

 

you will not be a vegetable my son

◄ THE WARREN HOUSE INN DARTMOOR

LETTER TO THE QUEEN ►

Comments

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raypool

Wed 13th Jan 2016 15:26

Thanks Wolfgar, well I do have beliefs , though exactly what they are is really to do with intuition with other layers added in. Your point is a perfectly valid one! I suppose this could apply to any incarceration or an abuse of freedom. We need to value it when we have it.

Interesting thanks, Stu. I try to use black humour as an entrée into forbidden areas, and hopefully it may hit a spot. The great thing with the original is the suspension of the final line throughout . Mine is a countering of that fulfilment. A bit like jazz that toys with a theme, or in your case, a starter that teases the palate!!

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Stu Buck

Wed 13th Jan 2016 10:44

this is great ray. it signals the return of angry ray, or 'red ray' as you are known in my office (just me in here mind you...).

i actually found this kicked me in the gut at the end. its a really controversial topic but you've dealt with it well.

my wife's mum works with people who are deaf/dumb/blind and it seems like everyone she works with are in constant turmoil at the idea of them a) living or b) dying. one of the toughest choices there is i think.

love the original poem as well. if any of us ever write anything a fifth as good we will be quids in i think. well maybe not quids in. but we are guaranteed comments damnitt!

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Wolfgar Miere

Wed 13th Jan 2016 05:11

Ray, a great take on this. And so bloody funny, yet sad.

Kicking against the turds who would love to see us break.

Wolfgar.

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