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| Rob De Frees - age 10 |
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| Robert at 65 years |
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
"Invictus" is a short Victorian poem by the English poet William Ernest Henley (1849–1903). It was written in 1875 and first published in 1888 in Henley's Book of Verses, where it was the fourth in a series of poems entitled Life and Death. It originally bore no title. The familiar title "Invictus" (Latin for "unconquered") was added by Arthur Quiller-Couch when he included the poem in The Oxford Book Of English Verse .
Some 57 years separate the snaps featured at the beginning of this post. It will come as a shock to some, that this old geezer had a most handsome visage once. The gap between 'golden' youth and 'OAP' decrepitude is filled by many life experiences. Have been most fortunate to have learned much, experienced much and lived much.
Like most, the journey through life has not been without its share of misfortune and sadness. Missed opportunities, mis-steps, failed friendships, lost loves, have all shared a spot on me path, as have love, lasting friendships, triumphs and lasting peace with the inner MOI. What I have forgot in life is almost as large amount remembered. Mind, there be many who think this old geezer forgets NOTHING.
At every stop in life, there be folks who do not credit MOI with knowing who he truly be. They do not realize that I long ago took stock of inner-self and am 'au fait' with the spirit inside me skin. However changed the visage be from youth, I see me, warts and all. Truth be told, am very aware of how I come across to many met. I make no apologies.
Today's 'sharing' comes about due to the many emails and comments received from new readers, who have yet to decide which 'label' on the old tin that be me, applies. Loud, rude, obnoxious, negative, fey, self-aggrandizing be but a few considered. Some feel that, this old geezer has no right to question anything seen or heard. That walking about chatting and taking mental snaps of what crosses path is an outrage foisted upon local citizenry by an ill-tempered old geezer with nothing better to do in life.
I am passionate in belief that if one is going to live, one has to truly LIVE, not through others but by the actions of self. Far too many folks live vicariously. Fail to question anything, realizing not that 'what is' can be changed to 'what if', if they only take part.
I am not a perfect person, have made my share of mistakes and no doubt will make more in the days ahead. Opinions held are not absolute and am more than willing to be proved wrong. That does not mean that this old geezer will become 'most popular', it is not fashionable to be different, no matter how colourful.
I try daily to make self 'more perfect' as do I try to make patch of earth lived upon 'more perfect'. What is the harm in that?
I am not troubled by nasty comments made about me, by folks who do not know me. Life is too short, and truth be told, never wanted to have massive number of 'friends'. They only folks who can hurt one are the ones trusted. Not being GOD, am naive enough to believe that everyone have value, that change is possible in all met, and that was life led before met is not of greatest import, but what is lived after met is. I have mis-judged before, and no doubt will in the future. Is always a let down to try and make one more brilliant, only to discover that they be a fraud, using friendship as a ruse to get over on. There be one close to to old geezer who reminds oft of the folks who have let this old geezer down. Quite true, but then I would rather have tried to help one than to lump one and all in a nasty box and ignore. What is the trick in that?
“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”JackKerouac
Climbing down off soapbox, this old geezer leaves you with one last quote to tide you over until we next meet;
“My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them.”JackKerouac
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