I like the poem by William Blake called A Poison Tree because it is actually quite funny but also about anger. The poem is also a bit moving because the message is about how help will come to those who need it.
I was once sad and lonely,
Having nobody to comfort me,
So I wore a mask that always smiled,
To hide my feelings behind a lie.
Before long, I had many friends;
With my mask, I was one of them.
But deep inside I still felt empty,
Like I was missing a part of me.
Nobody could hear my cries at night,
For I designed my mask to hide the lies.
Nobody could see the pain I was feeling,
For I designed my mask to be laughing.
Behind all the smiles were the tears,
And behind all the comfort were the fears.
Everything you think you see
Wasn’t everything there was to me.
Day by day
I was slowly dying.
I couldn’t go on,
There was something missing..
Until now I’m still searching
For the thing that’ll stop my crying,
For someone who’ll erase my fears,
For the person who’ll wipe my tears.
But till then, I’ll keep on smiling,
Hiding behind this mask I’m wearing.
Hoping one day I can smile,
Till then, I’ll be here…waiting
Chocolate Cake – Poem by Michael Rosen
I love chocolate cake.
And when I was a boy
I loved it even more.
Sometimes we used to have it for tea
and Mum used to say,
‘If there’s any left over
you can have it to take to school
tomorrow to have at playtime.’
And the next day I would take it to school
wrapped up in tin foil
open it up at playtime
and sit in the corner of the playground
eating it,
you know how the icing on top
is all shiny and it cracks as you
bite into it,
and there’s that other kind of icing in
the middle
and it sticks to your hands and you
can lick your fingers
and lick your lips
oh it’s lovely.
yeah.
Anyway,
once we had this chocolate cake for tea
and later I went to bed
but while I was in bed
I found myself waking up
licking my lips
and smiling.
I woke up proper.
‘The chocolate cake.’
It was the first thing
1 thought of.
I could almost see it
so I thought,
what if I go downstairs
and have a little nibble, yeah?
It was all dark
everyone was in bed
so it must have been really late
but I got out of bed,
crept out of the door
there’s always a creaky floorboard, isn’t there?
Past Mum and Dad’s room,
careful not to tread on bits of broken toys
or bits of Lego
you know what it’s like treading on Lego
with your bare feet,
yowwww
shhhhhhh
downstairs
into the kitchen
open the cupboard
and there it is
all shining.
So I take it out of the cupboard
put it on the table
and I see that
there’s a few crumbs lying about on the plate,
so I lick my finger and run my finger all over the crumbs
scooping them up
and put them into my mouth.
oooooooommmmmmmmm
nice.
Then
I look again
and on one side where it’s been cut,
it’s all crumbly.
So I take a knife
I think I’ll just tidy that up a bit,
cut off the crumbly bits
scoop them all up
and into the mouth
oooooommm mmmm
nice.
Look at the cake again.
That looks a bit funny now,
one side doesn’t match the other
I’ll just even it up a bit, eh?
Take the knife
and slice.
This time the knife makes a little cracky noise
as it goes through that hard icing on top.
A whole slice this time,
into the mouth.
Oh the icing on top
and the icing in the middle
ohhhhhh oooo mmmmmm.
But now
I can’t stop myself
Knife –
1 just take any old slice at it
and I’ve got this great big chunk
and I’m cramming it in
what a greedy pig
but it’s so nice,
and there’s another
and another and I’m squealing and I’m smacking my lips
and I’m stuffing myself with it
and
before I know
I’ve eaten the lot.
The whole lot.
I look at the plate.
It’s all gone.
Oh no
they’re bound to notice, aren’t they,
a whole chocolate cake doesn’t just disappear
does it?
What shall 1 do?
I know. I’ll wash the plate up,
and the knife
and put them away and maybe no one
will notice, eh?
So I do that
and creep creep creep
back to bed
into bed
doze off
licking my lips
with a lovely feeling in my belly.
Mmmmrnmmmmm.
In the morning I get up,
downstairs,
have breakfast,
Mum’s saying,
‘Have you got your dinner money?’
and I say,
‘Yes.’
‘And don’t forget to take some chocolate cake with you.’
I stopped breathing.
‘What’s the matter,’ she says,
‘you normally jump at chocolate cake?’
I’m still not breathing,
and she’s looking at me very closely now.
She’s looking at me just below my mouth.
‘What’s that?’ she says.
‘What’s what?’ I say.
‘What’s that there?’
‘Where?’
‘There,’ she says, pointing at my chin.
‘I don’t know,’ I say.
‘It looks like chocolate,’ she says.
‘It’s not chocolate is it?’
No answer.
‘Is it?’
‘I don’t know.’
She goes to the cupboard
looks in, up, top, middle, bottom,
turns back to me.
‘It’s gone.
It’s gone.
You haven’t eaten it, have you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know. You don’t know if you’ve eaten a whole
chocolate cake or not?
When? When did you eat it?’
So I told her,
and she said
well what could she say?
‘That’s the last time I give you any cake to take
to school.
Now go. Get out
no wait
not before you’ve washed your dirty sticky face.’
I went upstairs
looked in the mirror
and there it was,
just below my mouth,
a chocolate smudge.
The give-away.
Maybe she’ll forget about it by next week.
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
where were you when I was all alone
why weren’t you here after I begged you to come home
how could you leave me here by myself, you were all I had
I had enough people to hurt me
I needed my dad
you promised you’ll always be here to pick me up when I’ll fall
you told me if I ever needed anything,
all I had to do was call
I must have called you a million times that day
I just needed to hear your voice
I needed to know you were okay
but you didn’t even answer,
you didn’t even say good-bye
I guess you were too drunk to remember about me
or maybe you were just too high
I needed you, Daddy,
I needed you to love me more
but you weren’t thinking about me
when you walked out that door
it’s sad that you did what you told me every other guy would
if my own dad couldn’t love me
I don’t see how any guy could
I hated you because you left me here with no one
even now you haven’t apologized for anything you’ve done
you say I need to forgive you, but how when you never even said sorry
who stuck by you right or wrong,
wasn’t it me?
just like the typical guy you couldn’t love me or appreciate the things I did
I don’t even know who you are
you’re not the man I looked up to as a kid
I want him back, I want my dad!!
don’t you see? nothing else mattered,
he was all I ever had
he was the only one who put me first before everything else
we were a team, Dad
how could you leave me here by myself?
since the first day you left, there’s been this space I’ve so desperately trying to fill
no one understands anymore and these cuts are the only way I numb the pain I feel
I found a way to fill the space, but it’s only temporary
they can’t erase the pain I’ve been through
you said I’ll always be your baby
Dad, what did I do?!
These boys can’t take the insecurities you caused
no matter what they do or say
you were supposed to be here, Daddy,
to take the hurt away
I just want everything to be like it was before you decided it was easier to leave,
before you forgot all the things you promised,
before your drugs meant more to you than me,
I just wish this would all stop,
I wish I could make it all okay
I can’t forget 2 years ago
I still blame myself, I should’ve made you stay
but you should have known better
I would never have wanted you to go
you were my protector, Daddy
you weren’t supposed to hurt me; you were suppose to be my hero
but you did hurt me, Dad, and you can’t take it back
it’ll never be the same
I’ve become so insecure and you’re the one to blame
even if you realize you were wrong and come home tonight
it’s done so much damage trying to fill that space
nothing you do will ever make it right
I made some big mistakes trying to get your attention
I’m sorry, I can’t’ take it back no matter how bad I want to
I’m ashamed of my choices, you can be mad and hate me but if I deserve that
Dad, so do you…
Photographs of you holding me in your arms,
You protected me from any kind of harm,
You influenced me to play guitar,
I was always your number one rock star.
You looked so proud to be my dad,
But now every day you look so sad,
I wonder why you turned into this,
You’re violent with your tone and not your fists.
I’m thankful you’re not abusive physically,
But you turn my emotions into misery,
Money seems like your only desire,
You’re only happy when your income is higher.
Why can’t you just be happy and smile,
It could make you feel better for a while,
You never wipe my tears as they fall,
The problem between us is far from small.
There is an empty spot in my soul,
Our relationship is taking a toll,
I love you with all my heart,
I don’t want our relationship to fall apart.
It’s holding on by one last thread,
I regret the bad things that I said,
Can’t you realize the expression across my face,
It’s drawn with dark colors of disgrace.
But I guess you just can’t see,
How much you really mean to me,
I wish I could have a dad and not just a father,
That would always be there for his daughter.
You never care what I have to say,
Tears fill my eyes as I look away,
I cannot hide my pain any longer,
Please change soon or I’ll be a goner.
“Why do I love” You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.
Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—
The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—
The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He’s Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—
Emily Dickinson
If I could write a story,
It would be the greatest ever told.
I’d write about my daddy,
For he had a heart of gold.
My dad, he was no hero
Known around this world.
He was everything to me,
For I was his baby girl.
I’d write about the lessons.
He taught me right from wrong.
He instilled in me the values
That one day I’d be strong.
He taught me to face my fears,
Take each day as it comes,
For there are things that we can’t change.
He would say what’s done is done.
He would say hold your head up high,
Carry yourself with pride.
Thanks to him, I am somebody,
I will never run and hide.
If I could write a story,
It would be the greatest ever told.
I’d write about my daddy,
For he had a heart of gold.
My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.
Some day I’ll join him right there,
but now he’s gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I’ll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.
Ai, I’ll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.
No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he’d keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.
Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea’s movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean’s spray.
Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.
There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don’t now and never did lie to each other.
So now he’s gone and I buried him,
and that’s all there is to it.
I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first it wet the bed.
Hi there’s many poems I love but my favourite type of poem is sport poems because there fun I love sports.
Perhaps you could share some sport poems. I think you’ll find you’ll be studying some soon in the poetry course.
I like the poem by William Blake called A Poison Tree because it is actually quite funny but also about anger. The poem is also a bit moving because the message is about how help will come to those who need it.
Hi Rueben. I like Poison Tree too. Here’s a video of the poem for anyone unfamiliar with it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wu4QW3gWrUM
My favorite poem is from Joshua Seigal called gamer here it is.
I’m a zombie-zapping fighter,
I’m a prowling -through- the-nighter
You will find no mind that’s brighter-
I send demons to their doom.
I’m a sportsman, I’m a racer,
I’m a rider, I’m a chaser,
I swing swords and shoot lasers,
and I never leave my room.
I have faced a thousand armies,
Rolling boulders do not harm me,
I drive other people barmy
Wishing they could be the same.
when I’m overthrowing nations
There will be no hesitation,
this is total domination –
don’t tell me it’s just a game.
but my clothes are getting smelly
and I’m growing quite a belly
and I’m staring at the telly
as my mind begins to crack,
and my eyes are getting squarer
and my friends are getting rarer
and my world is getting barer.
where’s my life? I want it back.
Thank you for sharing Ibrahim.
I like the poem you are awesome because it explains about a growth mindset.
i quite like that poem too Ibrahim but why do you like it?
here is a poem
I was once sad and lonely,
Having nobody to comfort me,
So I wore a mask that always smiled,
To hide my feelings behind a lie.
Before long, I had many friends;
With my mask, I was one of them.
But deep inside I still felt empty,
Like I was missing a part of me.
Nobody could hear my cries at night,
For I designed my mask to hide the lies.
Nobody could see the pain I was feeling,
For I designed my mask to be laughing.
Behind all the smiles were the tears,
And behind all the comfort were the fears.
Everything you think you see
Wasn’t everything there was to me.
Day by day
I was slowly dying.
I couldn’t go on,
There was something missing..
Until now I’m still searching
For the thing that’ll stop my crying,
For someone who’ll erase my fears,
For the person who’ll wipe my tears.
But till then, I’ll keep on smiling,
Hiding behind this mask I’m wearing.
Hoping one day I can smile,
Till then, I’ll be here…waiting
This is one of my favourite poems
Chocolate Cake – Poem by Michael Rosen
I love chocolate cake.
And when I was a boy
I loved it even more.
Sometimes we used to have it for tea
and Mum used to say,
‘If there’s any left over
you can have it to take to school
tomorrow to have at playtime.’
And the next day I would take it to school
wrapped up in tin foil
open it up at playtime
and sit in the corner of the playground
eating it,
you know how the icing on top
is all shiny and it cracks as you
bite into it,
and there’s that other kind of icing in
the middle
and it sticks to your hands and you
can lick your fingers
and lick your lips
oh it’s lovely.
yeah.
Anyway,
once we had this chocolate cake for tea
and later I went to bed
but while I was in bed
I found myself waking up
licking my lips
and smiling.
I woke up proper.
‘The chocolate cake.’
It was the first thing
1 thought of.
I could almost see it
so I thought,
what if I go downstairs
and have a little nibble, yeah?
It was all dark
everyone was in bed
so it must have been really late
but I got out of bed,
crept out of the door
there’s always a creaky floorboard, isn’t there?
Past Mum and Dad’s room,
careful not to tread on bits of broken toys
or bits of Lego
you know what it’s like treading on Lego
with your bare feet,
yowwww
shhhhhhh
downstairs
into the kitchen
open the cupboard
and there it is
all shining.
So I take it out of the cupboard
put it on the table
and I see that
there’s a few crumbs lying about on the plate,
so I lick my finger and run my finger all over the crumbs
scooping them up
and put them into my mouth.
oooooooommmmmmmmm
nice.
Then
I look again
and on one side where it’s been cut,
it’s all crumbly.
So I take a knife
I think I’ll just tidy that up a bit,
cut off the crumbly bits
scoop them all up
and into the mouth
oooooommm mmmm
nice.
Look at the cake again.
That looks a bit funny now,
one side doesn’t match the other
I’ll just even it up a bit, eh?
Take the knife
and slice.
This time the knife makes a little cracky noise
as it goes through that hard icing on top.
A whole slice this time,
into the mouth.
Oh the icing on top
and the icing in the middle
ohhhhhh oooo mmmmmm.
But now
I can’t stop myself
Knife –
1 just take any old slice at it
and I’ve got this great big chunk
and I’m cramming it in
what a greedy pig
but it’s so nice,
and there’s another
and another and I’m squealing and I’m smacking my lips
and I’m stuffing myself with it
and
before I know
I’ve eaten the lot.
The whole lot.
I look at the plate.
It’s all gone.
Oh no
they’re bound to notice, aren’t they,
a whole chocolate cake doesn’t just disappear
does it?
What shall 1 do?
I know. I’ll wash the plate up,
and the knife
and put them away and maybe no one
will notice, eh?
So I do that
and creep creep creep
back to bed
into bed
doze off
licking my lips
with a lovely feeling in my belly.
Mmmmrnmmmmm.
In the morning I get up,
downstairs,
have breakfast,
Mum’s saying,
‘Have you got your dinner money?’
and I say,
‘Yes.’
‘And don’t forget to take some chocolate cake with you.’
I stopped breathing.
‘What’s the matter,’ she says,
‘you normally jump at chocolate cake?’
I’m still not breathing,
and she’s looking at me very closely now.
She’s looking at me just below my mouth.
‘What’s that?’ she says.
‘What’s what?’ I say.
‘What’s that there?’
‘Where?’
‘There,’ she says, pointing at my chin.
‘I don’t know,’ I say.
‘It looks like chocolate,’ she says.
‘It’s not chocolate is it?’
No answer.
‘Is it?’
‘I don’t know.’
She goes to the cupboard
looks in, up, top, middle, bottom,
turns back to me.
‘It’s gone.
It’s gone.
You haven’t eaten it, have you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know. You don’t know if you’ve eaten a whole
chocolate cake or not?
When? When did you eat it?’
So I told her,
and she said
well what could she say?
‘That’s the last time I give you any cake to take
to school.
Now go. Get out
no wait
not before you’ve washed your dirty sticky face.’
I went upstairs
looked in the mirror
and there it was,
just below my mouth,
a chocolate smudge.
The give-away.
Maybe she’ll forget about it by next week.
I want to share this poem by shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Daddy, are you out there?
Daddy, come home
Daddy, please meet me
Daddy, are you alone?
You missed all my smiles
you missed all my tears
you missed all my laughs
you missed all my fears
I hope you come find me
and see who I’ve become
you can come and see us
Tayler, Dad and Mum
do you ever think of me?
do you ever wonder?
do you know what I’m scared of
lighting or thunder?
have you forgotten
who I really am
well, I’m the baby girl
that you and mum planned
would you ever love me
would you ever care
would you ever hold me
like a teddy bear
do you want to know me
do you want to see
the person who I am
and the person I’ll be
do you have a picture
that you hold in your hand
or are you too scared
to know who I am
Can you write me a letter
and tell me who you are
so I can see who my dad is
and see if he’s a star
well, I hope I get to know you
and you get to know me
’cause I really want to meet you
and the person you have been
where were you when I was all alone
why weren’t you here after I begged you to come home
how could you leave me here by myself, you were all I had
I had enough people to hurt me
I needed my dad
you promised you’ll always be here to pick me up when I’ll fall
you told me if I ever needed anything,
all I had to do was call
I must have called you a million times that day
I just needed to hear your voice
I needed to know you were okay
but you didn’t even answer,
you didn’t even say good-bye
I guess you were too drunk to remember about me
or maybe you were just too high
I needed you, Daddy,
I needed you to love me more
but you weren’t thinking about me
when you walked out that door
it’s sad that you did what you told me every other guy would
if my own dad couldn’t love me
I don’t see how any guy could
I hated you because you left me here with no one
even now you haven’t apologized for anything you’ve done
you say I need to forgive you, but how when you never even said sorry
who stuck by you right or wrong,
wasn’t it me?
just like the typical guy you couldn’t love me or appreciate the things I did
I don’t even know who you are
you’re not the man I looked up to as a kid
I want him back, I want my dad!!
don’t you see? nothing else mattered,
he was all I ever had
he was the only one who put me first before everything else
we were a team, Dad
how could you leave me here by myself?
since the first day you left, there’s been this space I’ve so desperately trying to fill
no one understands anymore and these cuts are the only way I numb the pain I feel
I found a way to fill the space, but it’s only temporary
they can’t erase the pain I’ve been through
you said I’ll always be your baby
Dad, what did I do?!
These boys can’t take the insecurities you caused
no matter what they do or say
you were supposed to be here, Daddy,
to take the hurt away
I just want everything to be like it was before you decided it was easier to leave,
before you forgot all the things you promised,
before your drugs meant more to you than me,
I just wish this would all stop,
I wish I could make it all okay
I can’t forget 2 years ago
I still blame myself, I should’ve made you stay
but you should have known better
I would never have wanted you to go
you were my protector, Daddy
you weren’t supposed to hurt me; you were suppose to be my hero
but you did hurt me, Dad, and you can’t take it back
it’ll never be the same
I’ve become so insecure and you’re the one to blame
even if you realize you were wrong and come home tonight
it’s done so much damage trying to fill that space
nothing you do will ever make it right
I made some big mistakes trying to get your attention
I’m sorry, I can’t’ take it back no matter how bad I want to
I’m ashamed of my choices, you can be mad and hate me but if I deserve that
Dad, so do you…
Ibrahim, thank you for sharing so many thoughtful poems with us.
We are very fortunate you are willing to share these with us.
Better than Santa
Kind of like God
My dad is the best
The best of them all
He may hurt my feelings
But know it’s for the best
I love my dad
And to have him I am blessed
For him to put up with me
Day after day
With the mood swings I give
You’d think he’d want to be far away
Some kids don’t have a father
And probably if they do
I’ll bet they think of their father
Just like I think of you
This man is a special thing
that I am glad to have
This man is the best
I call him my DAD
Photographs of you holding me in your arms,
You protected me from any kind of harm,
You influenced me to play guitar,
I was always your number one rock star.
You looked so proud to be my dad,
But now every day you look so sad,
I wonder why you turned into this,
You’re violent with your tone and not your fists.
I’m thankful you’re not abusive physically,
But you turn my emotions into misery,
Money seems like your only desire,
You’re only happy when your income is higher.
Why can’t you just be happy and smile,
It could make you feel better for a while,
You never wipe my tears as they fall,
The problem between us is far from small.
There is an empty spot in my soul,
Our relationship is taking a toll,
I love you with all my heart,
I don’t want our relationship to fall apart.
It’s holding on by one last thread,
I regret the bad things that I said,
Can’t you realize the expression across my face,
It’s drawn with dark colors of disgrace.
But I guess you just can’t see,
How much you really mean to me,
I wish I could have a dad and not just a father,
That would always be there for his daughter.
You never care what I have to say,
Tears fill my eyes as I look away,
I cannot hide my pain any longer,
Please change soon or I’ll be a goner.
THIS IS AWESOMEEEE
THANKS MICHAEL WALSH
Here’s a poem by Emily Dickinson
“Why do I love” You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.
Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—
The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—
The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He’s Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—
Emily Dickinson
If I could write a story,
It would be the greatest ever told.
I’d write about my daddy,
For he had a heart of gold.
My dad, he was no hero
Known around this world.
He was everything to me,
For I was his baby girl.
I’d write about the lessons.
He taught me right from wrong.
He instilled in me the values
That one day I’d be strong.
He taught me to face my fears,
Take each day as it comes,
For there are things that we can’t change.
He would say what’s done is done.
He would say hold your head up high,
Carry yourself with pride.
Thanks to him, I am somebody,
I will never run and hide.
If I could write a story,
It would be the greatest ever told.
I’d write about my daddy,
For he had a heart of gold.
Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate
Whose table once a
Guest but not
The second time is set.
Whose crumbs the crows inspect
And with ironic caw
Flap past it to the Farmer’s Corn –
Men eat of it and die.
My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.
Some day I’ll join him right there,
but now he’s gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I’ll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.
Ai, I’ll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.
No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he’d keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.
Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea’s movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean’s spray.
Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.
There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don’t now and never did lie to each other.
So now he’s gone and I buried him,
and that’s all there is to it.
I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first it wet the bed.
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes –
I wonder if It weighs like Mine –
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long –
Or did it just begin –
I could not tell the Date of Mine –
It feels so old a pain –
I wonder if it hurts to live –
And if They have to try –
And whether – could They choose between –
It would not be – to die –
I note that Some – gone patient long –
At length, renew their smile –
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil –
I wonder if when Years have piled –
Some Thousands – on the Harm –
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm –
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve –
Enlightened to a larger Pain –
In Contrast with the Love –
The Grieved – are many – I am told –
There is the various Cause –
Death – is but one – and comes but once –
And only nails the eyes –
There’s Grief of Want – and grief of Cold –
A sort they call “Despair” –
There’s Banishment from native Eyes –
In sight of Native Air –
And though I may not guess the kind –
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary –
To note the fashions – of the Cross –
And how they’re mostly worn –
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like my own –
Hi Reuben,
Thank you for sharing this. Do you like Emily Dickenson the poet?
Yes i really like Emily Dickinson.
I like any poem really but one of my favourite types of poems are deep poems because
they seem a bit more interesting than others