• OK, it's on.
  • Please note that many, many Email Addresses used for spam, are not accepted at registration. Select a respectable Free email.
  • Done now. Domine miserere nobis.

Poetry

Freakorawma

Member
Local time
Today 3:37 AM
Joined
Aug 31, 2019
Messages
85
-->
Do intp’s like poetry?

What do you think about the poem do not go gently into that good night?

Poem
 

Tenacity

More than methods to the madness
Local time
Today 6:37 AM
Joined
Sep 3, 2019
Messages
440
-->
Do intp’s like poetry?

What do you think about the poem do not go gently into that good night?

Poem

I enjoy poems but will not individually/actively analyze deeply unless I can share with someone, i.e. you :) / others here

Background: "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night is a poem that meant a lot to Dylan Thomas, who wanted to see his father face death in a blaze of defiance." - via https://owlcation.com/humanities/An...o-Gentle-Into-That-Good-Night-by-Dylan-Thomas

Text-ifying here for ease of reference to stanzas, etc.:

"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 grieve 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."
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas

I think that article analysis quote was pretty spot on. Didn't read the whole article, didn't feel I needed to lol.

To me, it says that while people will cherish the light of living and the faded darkness of death, there is meaning and honor in looking death in the face, enduring the suffering that may come with it, and the vivid animosities associated with the last dying fight. I.e. "Owning" the pain rather than struggling with the wish that there should be peace when it may or can not exist.
 

Marbles

What would Feynman do?
Local time
Today 11:37 AM
Joined
Aug 31, 2019
Messages
646
-->
Location
Oslo
Poems I like are far between, but Do Not Go Gentle is one of them. I'm not sure I understand it, but the idea of raging against death even though you do not think it matters is touching to a nihilist like me. If the Universe supplies no meaning, all meaning is subjective. There is liberation in that, relief, even.

Do you like the poem, or poetry in general? Which other ones do you like? The first poem I felt strongly about was Du må ikke sove (You mustn't sleep) by Norwegian poet Arnulf Øverland. It was written in 1936 and tried to awaken Norway to the atrocities taking place in German concentration camps. Sadly, I cannot find a good English version. Poetry is what's lost in translation, as the saying goes. Here you are, anyway. The English version is the the bottom of the page. The Norwegian version is there too, for all the Norwegian users here, but you've probably all heard it before.

https://www.deviantart.com/nabium/journal/Du-maa-ikke-sove-Dare-not-to-sleep-572803196

This is another poem I really like, by Bukowski:
 

Kormak

The IT barbarian - eNTP - 6w7-4-8 so/sx
Local time
Today 12:37 PM
Joined
Sep 18, 2019
Messages
513
-->
Location
Your mother's basement
:neutral: hmm.. I have never in my life felt any need for self expression through art or poetry.
e_e isn't that a Fi thing IxFPs constantly do?
I came close to self expression through photography, but it was mostly just my interest in photography gear... it could have been any other machine I just wanted to understand.

In terms of English literature however, I do really enjoy Kipling:


Its one of my most favorite poems ;)
 

Tenacity

More than methods to the madness
Local time
Today 6:37 AM
Joined
Sep 3, 2019
Messages
440
-->
Do you like the poem, or poetry in general? Which other ones do you like? The first poem I felt strongly about was Du må ikke sove (You mustn't sleep) by Norwegian poet Arnulf Øverland.
I generally like them as I think there is something special about subjectivity, emotional depth, and creative expression where you can communicate things that politics and such cannot. I don't know too many off the top of my head, but one that comes to mind is The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. (By the way I intended to respond to this long ago but got busy)

"Dare not to sleep!

I was awakened one morning, by the quaintest of dreams
‘twas like a voice, spoken to me
It sounded afar - like an underground stream,
I rose and said: Why do you call me?

Dare not to slumber! Dare not to sleep!
Dare not believe, it was merely a dream!
Yore I was judged.
The gallows were built in the court this evening,
They’ll come for me — 5’ in the morning

This dungeon is teeming,
And barracks stand dungeon by dungeon
we lie here, awaiting, in cold cells of stone,
We lie here, we rot, in these murky holes.

We know not ourselves, what does lie ahead
Who will be the next one they'll reach for.
We moan and we shriek: But do you take heed?
Is there none among you who’ll hearken?

No one can see us,
None know what befalls us.
Yet more:
None will believe - what the day will bring us!

And then You defy: This dare not be true!
That men can be utterly evil.
There has to be some one with merits pure
Oh, brother, you still have a great deal to learn

They said: You will give your life, if commanded
We’ve given it now, for naught it was handed
The world has forgotten, we’ve all been deceived
Dare not to sleep in this hour - this eve.

You oughtn’t go to your business hence,
Or think: What’s your loss – or what is your gain?
You oughtn’t attribute your fields and your kine,
Nor say you’ve enough - with all that is thine.

You oughn’t abide, sitting calm in your home
Saying: Dismal it is, poor they are, and alone
You cannot permit it! You dare not, at all.
Accepting that outrage on all else may fall!
I cry with the final gasps of my breath:
You dare not repose, nor stand and forget

Pardon them not - they know what they do!
They breathe on hate-glows, and evil pursue,
They fancy to slay, they revel with cries,
Their desire is to gloat, when our world is at fire!
In blood they are yearning to drown one and all!
Don’t you believe it? You’ve heard the call!

You know how infants will soldiers remain,
While dashing through streets, fields, chanting ‘bout pain
Aroused by their mothers‘ assurance of glory
They’ll shelter their land - and they’ll never worry

You know the fatality of the lies,
that glory and faith and honor abides
You discern the dauntless dreams of a child,
A saber, a banner, he’ll flaunt them so wild,

And then they’ll leave home for a rainfall of steel,
‘Till last they hang ragged on barbed wire will,
Decaying for Hitler's Aryan call,
That is what a man’s for - after all…

I couldn’t imagine – too late now it is
My sentence is just: The verdict's no miss
I believed in prosperity, dreamt about peace
In labor and fellowship; love’s fragrant kiss
Yet those who don’t die on the battlefield,
Their heads for the axeman, will certainly yield

I cry in the gloom - if only you’d knew
There is but one thing - befitting to do
Defend yourself, while your hands are still yearning,
Protect your offspring - Europe is burning.

***

I shook from the chill. To dress, up I rose
Without stars were shining, so far, yet so close
‘twere simply a brilliant ray in the east,
Admonishing warning from the dream that just ceased

The day that soared up from earths furthermost strand
Augmenting with blood — and with firebrand
It grew with terror - like a breath that was lost
It seemed like the starlight - was slain by the frost.

I weighed: Something is imminent - and it’s dire
Our era is over — Europe’s on fire!

Arnulf Øverland, «Den Røde Front», Oslo 1937.

Translated by Lars-Toralf Storstrand."​

via the site you linked https://www.deviantart.com/nabium/journal/Du-maa-ikke-sove-Dare-not-to-sleep-572803196

This is certainly a piece whose fervor is remarkable, and there is a cutting urgency and a warning despair unlike anything I've read in probably years, if not ever. Overall, I think it encourages a call to action, which many poems or poets generally do not aspire to do. To be still while lives are being taken is severely disheartening.

It chills me and makes me appreciative of my circumstances - When I choose not to sleep, it can be considered a luxury for me, not a dire need. But, I imagine there will be times in my life where I must "dare not to sleep" and act on behalf of others, and I will think of this poem to keep me going.

:neutral: hmm.. I have never in my life felt any need for self expression through art or poetry.
e_e isn't that a Fi thing IxFPs constantly do?
I came close to self expression through photography, but it was mostly just my interest in photography gear... it could have been any other machine I just wanted to understand.

In terms of English literature however, I do really enjoy Kipling:


Its one of my most favorite poems ;)

I enjoyed these as well. (I'll revisit these later on to process - I usually read through things several times before being able to analyze) For me, the art and poetry can come out in times when my thoughts reach a standstill of cognitive overload. Then I find out things about myself I didn't know that other people or external input of information could never create. Though technically art and poetry can have as much or as little systematic, logical, rational, intellectual, or complex thought integrated within it, so I can see INTPs utilizing it. It isn't that far off from doing something like writing and analyzing as it involves translation of abstract complexity. For me, sort of "letting go" of judgment allows me to connect with parts of myself I had been conditioned to lose from the transition from child to adult. That is where creativity can get re-ignited if lost in the shuffle of loads of information and help INTPs resume their day or night recalibrated. It can be therapeutic regardless of MBTI, but is of course not something everyone enjoys or finds comes naturally.
 

Marbles

What would Feynman do?
Local time
Today 11:37 AM
Joined
Aug 31, 2019
Messages
646
-->
Location
Oslo
@Tenacity No worries at all. It was really an open question, directed at the op if anyone in specific. In the other thread I was just referring to a couple of times I offered specific information you asked for. I'd certainly be the pot calling the kettle black if I complained about others being slow to reply, and I know you're busy.

I wish you could have read Du maa ikke Sove in Norwegian if you liked the translation. It is a fantastic poem, written in rhyme and simple but beautiful language. It has an astounding authenticity about it. I think the translation was just made by some rando, not a professional, but it gets the message across.

I am looking forward to reading the giving tree. It seems to be a short book, from a quick google search? The term giving tree was referenced in The Overstory (a really good book, btw. Recommended), perhaps this poem is the source of it?

Edit: https://www.aresearchguide.com/the-giving-tree.html

Wow, that is really beautiful, Ten. When I'm touched by something, I prefer not to speak of it, at least not for a while. I feel like I somehow diminish art when I analyze and articulate it. So... I won't return the gesture of offering my opinion on it beyond saying I really liked it. Thanks for sharing!

@Kormak If is another favorite of mine! My interest in poetry is somewhat forced and under development, so you might be right about it being an Fi thing. My father, an INFP, is quite the poet. Still, it seems we INTPs genuinely like some poetry, and we tend to like the same poems.
 

Anling

Well-Known Member
Local time
Today 4:37 AM
Joined
Oct 25, 2008
Messages
566
-->
I rather like poetry. Though, I don't think it's taught all that well in high school. There's one poem, Ode to a Grecian Urn, that I hated in high school. But when we studied it again in collage I actually got it and realized it meant the exact opposite of what I thought it was saying and that I found rather trite and boring. I don't know if it was just my age group (I was also in that group that fell through the cracks for learning grammar and spelling, we were just supposed to pick it all up by osmosis), but it seems like no one ever explained things very well in high school. Maybe my mind just wasn't matured enough to these things then, but it was in college. I still liked poetry, I just thought some the stuff we studied was awful. Granted there is really awful poetry, just like there is really awful prose.

As far as the Do not go gentle into that good night, on the one hand I agree that struggling to continue living is admirable, I also think that making peace with your end is also good, perhaps even necessary. There is a trade off in everything. While we may want our parents, or whoever else, to keep going, we have to realize that sometimes it is much kinder to let them accept it peacefully. Sometimes people try to keep their dying loved ones alive past all reasonable means, actually harming those they are trying to save. The sentiment of the poem is very human, but we also need to learn to let go. The raging against death is a part of the grieving process.

Some people think the elderly should just die already and get out of the way. Which, yeah, screw them, you don't stop being a person just because you are in decline. But others really need to learn to let go and allow their dying relatives to have some peace. I probably have so many opinions about this because about a year and a half ago we lost my grandfather after we had moved him in with us after his wife died. He only lasted a few more months.
 
Top Bottom