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Pastimes : A Poetry Corner -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Poet who wrote (905)	8/26/2004 7:15:59 PM
From: ManyMoose	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 1582

You know, I think you've got it! I've never looked at it that way. But I think that's it! My profession, forestry, uses the term cohort in exactly the same sense, referring to trees. Say a windstorm ripped through a stand of trees, knocking down many or most of an entire generation of trees. The survivors throw seed, which creates a new generation, then some other disturbance comes in to create space which is occupied by still another generation. One would then refer to the resulting stand in terms of its cohorts--generations, or age classes of trees. people benefit from exposure to the arts-- literaure, the visual arts, music. Good art speaks of, speaks to, the human experience. When I was in Juneau, I donated to the Perseverance Theatre, which was a well-known local semi-professional theatre. When the Bush administration cut NEA funding there was a great hue and cry amongst the Perseverance people, but I told them they didn't want government money precisely because of the potential for undue influence. I don't think my view impressed them too much. Finally I quit going and giving because their repertoire was given to the most depressing themes imaginable, which, as we've discussed before, people living in a depressing climate did not need. I've always formed a lot of my beliefs around the following poem by Rudyard Kipling: If If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!