Ozymandias
#100DaysToOffload – Day 12
Early on into lockdown I got an email from my stepdad asking me to join a 'poetry exchange' (you can tell it was started by an older person as otherwise it would be a WhatsApp message or Facebook post!). It's one of those chain/pass-along emails but entirely harmless. Here's the text (with email addresses removed):
Dear Friends
I invite you to join a collective, constructive, and hopefully uplifting, exchange. It’s a one-time thing and we hope you will participate. We have picked those we think would be willing and would make it fun.
Please send a poem to the person whose name is in position 1 below (even if you don’t know them) with the email subject “Poem Exchange”. It should be a favourite text/verse/meditation that has affected you in difficult times. Or not. Don’t agonise over it.
After you’ve sent the short poem/verse/quote etc to the person in position 1, and only that person, copy this letter into a new email. Move my name to position 1 and put your name in position 2. Only my name and your name should show in the new email. Send it to 20-ish friends BCC (blind copy).
Seldom does anyone drop out because we all need new pleasures. The turnaround is fast, as there are only two names on the list, and you only have to do it once.
Stay safe and well and pass it on even if like me your favourite poem dates from the age 11/12.
As it seemed a pleasant thing to do I joined in and sent it on and also sent my favourite poem which is Percy Shelley's Ozymandias.
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
The only other poem I considered with the opening monologue from the film Trainspotting written by screenwriter John Hodge. Most people can remember the opening part but probably don't recall the last few sentences which are really grim.
Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.
Choose your future.
Choose life.
As for the poetry exchange I think I got maybe 5 sent to me and I had sent it to about 12 people I think. Trouble is I don't actually have that many friend's email addresses as it is all phone numbers or social media profiles. None of the ones I received were particularly memorable but I did enjoy reading them all.
Now this is a story all about how
My life got flipped turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute just sit right there
I'll tell you how I started doing https://100daystooffload.com