Splendor
I am a fond reader of poems! And I think, so does Rizalist who does not hesitate to use them in his blog. To quote William Congreve, English poet and playwright, poems, like music, have "charms to soothe a savage beast, to soften rocks or bend a knotted oak".
This weekend, I have endeavored to post with permission "SPLENDOR", a poem written by Matthew Go, a 12-year old Xavier lad who is turning 13 this December. Reading it the first time, my impression of the author was one advanced in years and steeped in experience. How wrong was I. How an 11-year old can write with such depth and maturity can only speak of his precocity.
Read on and let Matt’s poem “Splendor” soothe the beast within us
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The sweet splendor of the flower in bloom
And the simplicity of a darkened room
The sound of a waterfall falling
And the laughter of a child playing
All these are in our world
Our life is metaphorically curled
We have to force it to be straight
Along the way we’ll encounter love and hate
The bickering of a 20 year marriage
The blood sucking of a leech
The chill of the frozen throne
The sound of a very harsh tone
The world may seem unfair at first
You might think you’d want to burst
At a moment when all is lost
Look around you and then pause
What do you see?
A child laughing or a dying tree
What would you look at, let me guess
I would look at the child, its smile so mild
Look at the bright side of life
Don’t even think of stabbing our heart
Let love invoke you and hate depart.
Matthew Go, Nov. 16, 2004
11 years old
This weekend, I have endeavored to post with permission "SPLENDOR", a poem written by Matthew Go, a 12-year old Xavier lad who is turning 13 this December. Reading it the first time, my impression of the author was one advanced in years and steeped in experience. How wrong was I. How an 11-year old can write with such depth and maturity can only speak of his precocity.
Read on and let Matt’s poem “Splendor” soothe the beast within us
----------------------------------
The sweet splendor of the flower in bloom
And the simplicity of a darkened room
The sound of a waterfall falling
And the laughter of a child playing
All these are in our world
Our life is metaphorically curled
We have to force it to be straight
Along the way we’ll encounter love and hate
The bickering of a 20 year marriage
The blood sucking of a leech
The chill of the frozen throne
The sound of a very harsh tone
The world may seem unfair at first
You might think you’d want to burst
At a moment when all is lost
Look around you and then pause
What do you see?
A child laughing or a dying tree
What would you look at, let me guess
I would look at the child, its smile so mild
Look at the bright side of life
Don’t even think of stabbing our heart
Let love invoke you and hate depart.
Matthew Go, Nov. 16, 2004
11 years old
posted by Edwin Lacierda | 8:59 PM
6 Comments:
What I'd do to have my own children write like that!
This is the reason I shove my "creative writing" classes down their throats during summer.
This is one of the most wonderful poems i have read in the whole life i have spent on his earth. this poem captures the soul's elements and turns them to wonders beyond comprehension. it makes me think that if ever i myself ould compose such a work then i would be captivated by my own work. it excedes his age and is very hard to believe that he is only a child. he would most likely be the next shakespere or the next cervantes. as i read this, i thught that if i were to live this poem out all my worries would seem meaningless and that the beauty of life would be highlighted in the most glorious of ways. it is truly a work of pure and untouched art.
i teach writing and literature in a california college. my job would be a lot easier if all my students were as skillful with words as matthew. and "splendor" suggests that this young poet has also read quite a bit of poetry. the art of reading poetry apparently is still alive. one can rest knowing that the poetic tradition will live on.
Dear Sir,
Matthew would have appreciated knowing your name and to thank you for your wonderful words.
Indeed, it is a consolation for those teaching writing and literature that the discipline of poetry continues to inspire and move young men to indulge in a tradition that seems to have fewer disciples as the years go by.
Thank you once more and I shall forward your comment to the little lad. Your statement is truly edifying.
Every post's a new leaf
growing on a blogtree
in the forest of belief,
in the heart of humanity,
in the bosom of the Earth,
under the large
and awesome night.
Well, being a friend to Matthew, I can say i am very surprised and quite impressed by this poem.
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