My favorite poem and poetess: Antartica by Marie Stopes... and my only poem

"To overcome mere ignorance in others is, there- fore, by no means a hopeless task, and it is the valiant work of the artist-prophet." - Marie Stopes, Radiant Motherhood

I am not usually one for poems, or any artistic writing to be honest, my interest is more in the realm of the real and the philosophical, but that is probably the reason why the only poetess (or poet) whom I have ever loved and had affection for was the brilliant scientist, eugenicist, activist and philosopher, Marie Stopes.

Born in 1880, "Stopes attended University College London as a scholarship student, where she studied botany and geology; she graduated with a first class B.Sc. in 1902 after only two years by attending both day and night schools. Following this, Stopes earned a D.Sc. degree from University College London, becoming the youngest person in Britain to have done so. 

In 1903 she published a study of the botany of the recently dried-up Ebbsfleet River. After carrying out research on Carboniferous plants at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, and at University College, London, she studied the reproduction of living cycads at the University of Munich, receiving a Ph.D. in botany in 1904. Also in 1904, she was one of the first women to be elected a fellow of the Linnean Society of London. 

She was also Fellow and sometime Lecturer in Palaeobotany at University College, London until 1920. She held the post of Lecturer in Palaeobotany at the University of Manchester from 1904 to 1910; in this capacity she became the first female academic of that university." - WIKIPEDIA

Stopes published many books on plant botany, eugenic philosophy, sex, marriage and other topics, all of which are some of the most beautiful yet logical writings I have ever read, she was a true polymath, genius and free soul.  Stopes was the first to open birth control clinics in England. 

Her book of poems is "Man and other Poems" and it is full of her beautiful writings which are as enchanting as her gracile face.  My favorite poem of hers is "To Captain Scott, R.N., not only because it is the most beautiful thing I have ever read, but also because it features one of my deepest mysterious loves, Antartica.

Stopes had one poem, which is my 2nd favorite poem of all time, and it spurred me to (rip her off) and write my own version of it, which is the only poem I have ever written, I am not a poet so I simply used her quip as my written structure. I know it is not very creative, but it is dedicated to to her, one of my earthy mistresses.

Stopes
"The Catholics, The Prussians
The Jews and the Russians
All of them are curse, or something worse"

Me
"The Vatican and Meccha
Jerusalem and the Mlecca
All of them are a curse, or something worse" 

MY READING OF "TO CAPTAIN SCOTT, R.N"

TO CAPTAIN SCOTT, R.N. 

In Memouiam. 

Upon her axis has the old world swung, 

Since in the sun-warmed air faint music rung 

From rustling leaves that waved o’er polar lands. 

Since then old Time has shaken out his sands. 

And seen vast continents retreat, refurled 

Before dissolving waters. While the world 

Shifted her angle t’ward the starry skies ; 

For where the white Antarctica now lies. 

Time watched the ancient forests shrinking back 

Before the penetrating, soft attack 

Of sleepy-fingered cold, whose icy breath 

Petrified life until it merged in death. 

Then, with the conquered forests covered o’er 

By silting muds and sand-encroaching shore. 

Were buried secrets that Man yearns to know — 

Strange forms extinct entombed in rocks and snow, 

Upon whose graves the spirits of the night 

Dance fantasies in coruscating light. 

Their icy queen for epochs held at bay 

Truth-seekers who, fool-hardy, came that way ; 

Until this century has seen Man beat 

The Unexplored back from this last retreat. 

But the wind-voice cries, 

And the wind-force hurls 

Death-cloud snows in swirls. 

Sharp ice banners rise 

Which the wind unfurls ; 

They gyrate in whorls, 

And they flay the prize 

While shrill music skirls. 

Then the white soul lies 

With two priceless pearls 

Where had been warm eyes. 

And after it peace. Then, in the light 

Of the frozen stars, for the eight- months’ night 

The ghostly echo wails round the Pole 

And cries, “ But eleven miles from our goal !” 

God ! the white light round the glorious dead 

Not only illumines the hero’s head. 

Its lambent flame has flashed round the earth 

Piercing each heart ; it has given birth 

In a white-hot glow to a reverent pride 

In the way that our English heroes died. 

February 14, 1913. 

(It is perhaps not generally known that Lady Scott, the 

explorer’s wife, and Dr. Marie Stopes, the fossil botanist, were 

anxious to go with Captain Scott on this last expedition, and 

that it was seriously discussed whether it would be possible for 

them to join the party. Dr. Stopes particularly desired to 

collect the fossil plants and examine the coal deposits which 

had been reported by Shackleton, in order to obtain much- 

needed evidence about the forests of extinct plants which once 

grew in antarctic lands. )