Category Archives: Poetry

Play up! play up! and play the game!

The thing about trust is, despite all the bits that are grey in between, it is pretty simple. Or at least it ought to be. Like flicking a light switch on and off. Some of the grandest heartaches in life usually rear their ugly heads when trust is decimated. Magnitudes of this pain are several factors higher when trust is systematically decimated. Of course no heartache is more painful than the one that involves the ones you love.

For individuals unfortunate enough to have experienced such meticulous obliteration of trust, it is somewhat paradoxically and deliriously delightful to be able to trust again. Perchance you are a lucky one to have escaped such terrible and dreadful malaise of life; then on the flip side you most certainly are very unlucky not to know just precisely how it feels to be able to trust again. One might argue it is an irrational point of view but it is a valid of point of view nonetheless. Life is a wonderfully epic journey simply because of the experiences and emotions one encounters – bad or good. Be assured there is no other feeling better than the sense of sheer relief and utter gusto one feels when failures of the past are finally overcome and success is tasted. It is one of the most delightful and bittersweet of feelings.

The most important lesson is not to give up. Play up! play up! and play the game.

Sir Henry John Newbolt knew it and we will all do very well to remind ourselves the importance of just playing the game and not giving up… be it love, be it life, be it a simple game of Cricket…

There’s a breathless hush in the Close to-night—

Ten to make and the match to win—

A bumping pitch and a blinding light,

An hour to play and the last man in.

And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned coat,

Or the selfish hope of a season’s fame,

But his captain’s hand on his shoulder smote—

“Play up! play up! and play the game!”

The sand of the desert is sodden red,—

Red with the wreck of a square that broke;—

The Gatling’s jammed and the Colonel dead,

And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.

The river of death has brimmed its banks,

And England’s far, and Honour a name,

But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks:

“Play up! play up! and play the game!”

This is the word that year by year,

While in her place the school is set,

Every one of her sons must hear,

And none that hears it dare forget.

This they all with a joyful mind

Bear through life like a torch in flame,

And falling fling to the host behind—

“Play up! play up! and play the game!”

Forever young

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young

This is my favourite Dylan song. Gives me goosebumps every time I hear it.

Alexandra leaving

Suddenly the night has grown colder.
Some deity preparing to depart.
Alexandra hoisted on his shoulder,
they slip between the sentries of your heart.

Upheld by the simplicities of pleasure,
they gain the light, they formlessly entwine;
and radiant beyond your widest measure
they fall among the voices and the wine.

lt’s not a trick, your senses all deceiving,
a fitful dream the morning will exhaust—
Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving,
Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.

Even though she sleeps upon your satin.
Even though she wakes you with a kiss.
Do not say the moment was imagined,
Do not stoop to strategies like this.

As someone long prepared for this to happen,
Go firmly to the window. Drink it in.
Exquisite music, Alexandra laughing.
Your first commitments tangible again.

You who had the honor of her evening,
And by that honor had your own restored—
Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving.
Alexandra leaving with her lord.

As someone long prepared for the occasion;
In full command of every plan you wrecked—
Do not choose a coward’s explanation
that hides behind the cause and the effect,

You who were bewildered by a meaning,
whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed—
Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving.
Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.

You may want to read this!

Villanelle for our time

From bitter searching of the heart,
Quickened with passion and with pain
We rise to play a greater part.
This is the faith from which we start:
Men shall know commonwealth again
From bitter searching of the heart.
We loved the easy and the smart,
But now, with keener hand and brain,
We rise to play a greater part.
The lesser loyalties depart,
And neither race nor creed remain
From bitter searching of the heart.
Not steering by the venal chart
That tricked the mass for private gain,
We rise to play a greater part.
Reshaping narrow law and art
Whose symbols are the millions slain,
From bitter searching of the heart
We rise to play a greater part.

Leonard Cohen