Do not go gently into the night

Do not go gentle into the night.
You hold the rod that scatters earth
Lash out with all your might.

Your flesh is on the wane
Your days in the sun are done.
As fleas to vanish in a lion’s mane.

Time is coming for you,
Its mouth a yawning abyss.
So whip up chaos, let lose an apocalypse

The decree, you must defy.
Hell--bring on Armageddon,
blinding the Reaper’s eye.

There’s a scepter in your hand
Set it ablaze, hurl it upon
every inscrutable land.

Perhaps the seas will part
If you feed them enough blood.
Maybe death will lose your scent and depart

The night stands leering at you.
Let your fire singe its claws.
Drop your bombs to drive it back.
You're above decay and its laws.

So you believe,
as lesser mortals grieve.

Do not pass gently into the night
Its coming for you, anyway
Kick and scream in the dying light.

Author's Note

A fact.

Reviews

[MarthaKlokke]

No wishing anyone bad but as they say
No wishing anyone bad
but as they say,
what you send out walks the long way round and comes back knocking.
Not as thunder. Not as curses fulfilled.
Just as weather.
You drop a stone in a river and the ripples do not argue.
They widen.
They touch shores you never meant to reach.
We pretend intention is private,
that thought is weightless,
that a small cruelty stays small.
But the world is a listening body.
It records tone.
It remembers pressure.
So we learn, slowly, unwillingly,
that even silence has consequences,
that even jokes leave fingerprints,
that even “I didn’t mean it”
does not unbreak what bent.
No wishing anyone bad.
Not because of virtue,
not because of halos or heaven,
but because every arrow you loose
must eventually land in the same field you walk.
As they say
the ground keeps accounts.
And the harvest is never random.

[JessyJacob]

hi,
i am thinking to write like you, all these days since year my mind and heart was fearing to read poems of others. you write beautiful thoughts, somehow today i see poems of yours understandable and not a cryptic, till now i could read with its meaning. any reader tries to make understand what he is writing about. to understand your writings, they need to read you your poems which you wrote from beginning.

i see poet tries to express feelings. few write with rhythm, few write with repetition, to make the reader to see pleasing write. Are these poets write about so? Based on my experience and study at school, there were two parts poetry and prose in languages, they used to show lines in poem with rhythm, repetition, and few saying two three words after saying the fact and you need to understand this fact. Those were moral poems. This is what i see in Indian poets. When i see poems of English, they are entirely different, they say repetition of not same words but the lines content and no of words, and few i see the poem words are not in repetition, but the meaning of it is repeated.

Anyways,
poem must not be challenge with vocoub and count, i see poem should be a nice read, where you say fact, warn the consequences and conclude the poem with a lesson. I see you write more of the content and then a conclusion. I think thats why i am more liking yours, and see you with excellent so as your heart so pure and kind and also a angry man.

Thank you for sharing
why i said more about writing styles, because its not just your poems to be enjoyed by few, but world should get inspiration and also a kind of suggestion and feel better after reading your poem. Then you are done by being a poet of people's heart.


Jessy Jacob.

[Buddhistboy73]

A vibrant and enjoyable rebellion against the end of life.....:)

I liked the message and energy behind this poem....

These are my favourite lines:

There’s a scepter in your hand
Set it ablaze, hurl it upon
every inscrutable land.

All power to you ....

Feel free to stop by and check out one of my poems some time....

BB73

[BuzzyB]

Welcome to my page BB73. We share the same initials.... :)
Thank you for the great review. I'm looking forward to read your poetries too.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

This poem reminds me of a short story by Thomas Wolfe called "Child by Tiger."
The protagonist Dick Prosser became the weapon of the Armageddon...Something more minor sparked his inner fire and thus, his killing spree. But it was much more complex what was behind his actions.
We need to kick and scream...or we will all turn into Dick Prosser and just become a violent snowball.
j.

[BuzzyB]

That's so interesting. I'm looking up the story. Thank you for sharing. Yes, we need to kick and scream. With all our existence. Its our right. Your thoughts are so appreciated on this poem.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I know this someone with a scepter in his hand...and I would like to see it backfire.
j.

[BuzzyB]

Yes, you know him. We all do. Thank you for understanding.

[Murugan Appa Ponappan]

Hi. How are you? My name is Ponapoan. Can we friends pls? You wrote well.

[Tania Mo]

BuzzyBee this is fine foretelling. On point. We all fight but die in the end. 😁

[BuzzyB]

Thank you Tania :)

[AJNJ]

Yes any tyrant fears death. Its the only way to go. I like that you point to the inevitable. God you're good with piems.

[BuzzyB]

AJ...Thank you again..