Strange Things are Afoot at the Circle K.

Friday, July 04, 2003

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Happy 4th of July, or something.

Here's a cool poem I just looked up. I'd often seen a couple of lines of this poem quoted, but had never seen the rest of the poem, but today I found out who wrote it, so I looked it up with Google, and found the entire poem. I'd always wanted to read this poem, just the two lines of it I had seen before have influenced my writing a great deal.


Do not go gentle into that good night
Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.