My Favorite Poem


I don't really have a favorite poem, except maybe for a few verses from the Bible that I keep in my head or the lyrics to some of my favorite songs (mostly rap/R&B stuff). One that I do remember that has been some inspiration is The Charge of the Light Brigade by Alfred Lord Tennyson. I know this was also an illustration used in the movie The Blind Side, but that doesn't take away from the value it has had for me ever since I first wrote about it in an English class several years ago. The poem commemorates the loss of 250 (out of 600) English soldiers who died in a suicide mission during the Crimean War after taking on a Russian opponent that was far superior and against whom they had no chance.  Yet in spite of knowing this going into the battle, they did not quit or retreat, but fought with everything they had.


The  personal meaning is related to my playing on basketball teams year-round since I was in the 6th grade.  I've been involved in sports since I was 4 (baseball, soccer, basketball, now track), but basketball has always been my favorite. Just because it's something you love doesn't make it come easy, however, and for a long time I was the shortest player on my team.  I have also been the only "white" player on both my travel and school teams for over 6 years.  My teammates are my best friends, and they have always stood by me and taken protected me, even when I was intimidated by my size and a little scared of being different than everyone else in the entire gym on many occasions.  Even so, as an  athlete competing against teams that have awesome talent, there are days when you go into a game knowing that no matter how hard you play, you're going to lose... by a lot.  You know you will face an opponent who is bigger, faster, and stronger, and you realize it will be mentally tough as well as physically rough, often dealing with a lot of talk that happens on the court that the fans  and coaches never hear.  However, you must press on "into the battle" with everything you have, even knowing the outcome, and even though in the end it's just a game.

                                  The Charge of the Light Brigade by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Half a league half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred:

'Forward, the Light Brigade!

Charge for the guns' he said:

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!'

Was there a man dismay'd ?

Not tho' the soldier knew

Some one had blunder'd:

Theirs not to make reply,

Theirs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do & die,

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them

Volley'd & thunder'd;

Storm'd at with shot and shell,

Boldly they rode and well,

Into the jaws of Death,

Into the mouth of Hell

Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,

Flash'd as they turn'd in air

Sabring the gunners there,

Charging an army while

All the world wonder'd:

Plunged in the battery-smoke

Right thro' the line they broke;

Cossack & Russian

Reel'd from the sabre-stroke,

Shatter'd & sunder'd.

Then they rode back, but not

Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon behind them

Volley'd and thunder'd;

Storm'd at with shot and shell,

While horse & hero fell,

They that had fought so well

Came thro' the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of Hell,

All that was left of them,

Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?

O the wild charge they made!

All the world wonder'd.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Light Brigade,

        Noble six hundred!