celebrities,  Encouragement,  Life,  Love,  Poetry,  Thoughts

Friday’s Features: London Rain & Sophie Caldecott

Another busy Friday is upon us here at Chez Lunatic. Tonight my son Lock is being inducted into the National Junior Honor Society. It’s a pretty big deal and means dressing up, but he’s really excited about it. His suit has been ironed and a tie found, my dress is ready to go, and I’m about to go take a shower so we can leave in plenty of time. The other kids are as clean as I can get them for now and I’m praying for an easy night with them. I think a little celebratory dinner afterwards is definitely called for and maybe a late movie. Or not. Maybe I can use the movie as a reward for best behavior. We’ll see.

So, today’s featured blog/site belongs to Sophie Caldecott who has rocketed to some small fame around the internet. Her father is a Marvel fan and is dying of prostate cancer. Sophie sent a message out to Marvel asking for a favor. She wanted to see if she could get a copy of the actual film of The Winter Soldier so her dad could view it as he hadn’t been able to view it, being too sick at the time. He won’t live to see the release of the dvd. She also wanted to tweet the actors to see if they would take selfies holding signs saying “(character name) for Strat”, Strat being her father’s name. People on Twitter responded. My first view was Mark Ruffalo and Chris Evans, and that was when I decided to look into what was going on. I was touched by the story, and many a tear has been shed since then. I watched the whole thing unfold all day, and I am blown away by what has been done for one man by a community of people through social media. The kindness of strangers is awe-inspiring. My own dad died of pancreatic cancer in November and his father died in December of 1994 from prostate cancer which went into his bones. Neither of them were able to fulfill any wishes but if what this woman is doing causes more interest in cancer research, then they will not have died in vain. And I think that finding a cure for cancer would be what they would want over anything else. Please go read the story here.  Sophie, my thoughts are with you and your family at this time. May you find whatever peace you can and know that you are surrounded by love. And also, I can’t take a pic at the moment but I can do this:

Lunatics for Strat!

All my love to you, sweetie!

As for the featured poem for today, I went to a book I recently bought. The poem is London Rain by Louis MacNiece (click to go to a site for info and more of his work). I would really like to take the time to give some background information on him as he was friends with W.H. Auden (another favorite). But, I am beginning to be in a pinch for time, and Sophie’s story was more important to me to talk about. I love this poem, and as I have read it over today I realize how it actually fits in with today’s featured blog story as well. There are two verses in it that stand out to me:

“Whether the living river

Began in bog or lake,

The world is what was given,

The world is what we make.

And we only can discover

Life in the life we make.

So let the water sizzle

Upon the gleaming slates,

There will be sunshine after

When the rain abates

And rain returning duly

When the sun abates.”

Poetry once again reveals world truths. So, please read London Rain. And keep Sophie and her family close in your hearts.

xo Jesi

londonrain

London Rain

By Louis MacNiece

The rain of London pimples
The ebony street with white
And the neon lamps of London
Stain the canals of night
And the park becomes a jungle
In the alchemy of night.

 

My wishes turn to violent
Horses black as coal–
The randy mares of fancy,
The stallions of the soul–
Eager to take the fences
That fence about my soul.

 

Across the countless chimneys
The horses ride and across
The country to the channel
Where warning beacons toss,
To a place where God and No-God
Play at pitch and toss.

 

Whichever wins I am happy
For God will give me bliss
But No-God will absolve me
From all I do amiss
And I need not suffer conscience
If the world was made amiss.

 

Under God we can reckon
On pardon when we fall
But if we are under no God
Nothing will matter at all,
Arson and rape and murder
Will count for nothing at all.

 

So reinforced by logic
As having nothing to lose
My lust goes riding horseback
To ravish where I choose,
To burgle all the turrets
Of beauty as I choose.

 

But now the rain gives over
Its dance upon the town,
Logic and lust together
Come dimly tumbling down,
And neither God nor No-God
Is either up or down.

 

The argument was wilful,
The alternatives untrue,
We need no metaphysics
To sanction what we do
Or to muffle us in comfort
From what we did not do.

 

Whether the living river
Began in bog or lake,
The world is what was given,
The world is what we make
And we only can discover
Life in the life we make.

 

So let the water sizzle
Upon the gleaming slates,
There will be sunshine after
When the rain abates
And rain returning duly
When the sun abates.

 

My wishes now come homeward,
Their gallopings in vain,
Logic and lust are quiet,
And again it starts to rain.
Falling asleep I listen
To the falling London rain.

 

Jesi Scott is an aspiring writer of novels, a poet, and blogger. She has guest-blogged over at The Well-Tempered Bards, and has a post featured at For Love Of…. Jesi has two poems published in Memories of Mist, a literary anthology, and one published story in a newsletter. She is currently working on releasing her first poetry collection as well as writing her first novel. When not writing, Jesi can be found getting lost in bookstores, singing and dancing around the house, experiencing culture with friends, and generally having fun with her four sons when they aren’t driving her weeping into her closet, which she calls her Padded Cell. She loves to rescue stray bookmarks, as well as books, and has opened her heart to any and all stories needing a home. Archery is her current favorite thing ever but you might want to stand back a little as she still has a tendency to drop the bow occasionally.

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