Lost Poems
If
by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream- -and not make dreams your master;
......
Elegy
by Dylan Thomas
Too proud to die; broken and blind he died
The darkest way, and did not turn away,
A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride
On that darkest day, Oh, forever may
He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed
Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow
Young among the long flocks, and never lie lost
Or still all the numberless days of his death, though
......
Keats
by Henry Van Dyke
The melancholy gift Aurora gained
From Jove, that her sad lover should not see
The face of death, no goddess asked for thee,
My Keats! But when the crimson blood-drop stained
Thy pillow, thou didst read the fate ordained, --
Brief life, wild love, a flight of poesy!
And then, -- a shadow fell on Italy:
Thy star went down before its brightness waned,
Yet thou hast won the gift Tithonus missed:
......
The Country Of Marriage
by Wendell Berry
I.
I dream of you walking at night along the streams
of the country of my birth, warm blooms and the nightsongs
of birds opening around you as you walk.
You are holding in your body the dark seed of my sleep.
II.
This comes after silence. Was it something I said
......
Dust
by Rupert Brooke
When the white flame in us is gone,
And we that lost the world's delight
Stiffen in darkness, left alone
To crumble in our separate night;
When your swift hair is quiet in death,
And through the lips corruption thrust
Has stilled the labour of my breath --
When we are dust, when we are dust! --
......
Object Permanence
by Schafer Bailey
It has only been a year since I had graduated college
And in that time much has happened
My father is dead
My eldest sister pregnant with a little boy
My brother shows grey hairs in his curls
My other sister has more degrees than she knows what do with them
and my mother wishes I come home more often
My friends no longer call as often
I have lost a sense of hope
......
An Open Shut Case
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
I was an experienced interior designer, whose specialty was outer doors,
Ever opening to amber sunshine, as petals open, when vivid beams pour.
Functionality and beauty were very vital, so I helped customers each day,
To choose materials, colors and styles, like modish spring's latest display.
I adored inspecting the final product, and its impact on the whole house;
As butterflies, greenery and blue skies, incite rapture for motley crowds.
Opaque doors always fascinated me, being portals of frenzy and mystery.
......
lost in him
by Reagan M
where he goes
I follow
towards locked doors
and through endless empty hallways
whatever he says
I listen
from intricate truths
to the simplest of lies
......
My Prison Door!
by Vera Rice
Who am I? I really don't know who my real self is, I have been locked up inside of myself with no way of escaping and no way to cry out for help either. Because my voice won't work and nobody can hear it, because it's buried really deep inside of me.
My real self has been locked up all my life, I never got to meet my real self. My family saw something inside of me that must have scared them because they were the ones who locked up my real self. They even gave me rules to obey and follow without asking any questions, the first rule I learned was 'you are not allowed to feel anything.'
It still sometimes feels like it applies even now, then the worst thing happened to me it was the day my prison door was shut and locked forever. I can never escape it because I don't have the power, then I found out that it was only going to get even more horrible for me.
My family gave me a title that I don't want and I despise it whole heartily, that title is 'I'm a good girl who does what she's told.' I have tried to escape many times over the years but to no avail, they always found me and returned me to my prison. Even now they still make sure that my prison door is safely locked, I don't think my family wants me to become one with my real self.
I think their sacred of my real self that's why they locked her up, I can hear her screaming to be set free from my prison door. I everyone sees is really just a shell of my real self, that my family locked away and threw the key away.
I think their sacred that if my real self was set free because they wouldn't be in control of me anymore. They wouldn't be able to manipulate me anymore either like they have been doing to my shell of my real self all my life.
My family would lose their personal playtoy and that makes them scared of my real self if she ever got free of my prison door that they locked her up in.
By: Vera Rice
Foghorn
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
I was an inscrutable, capricious mystery writer, like a pure mystery of days;
And I had composed best selling novels, like westering sun's scarlet phase.
An unparalleled passion for writing, had for quite long been the motivation,
Behind novels which captured hearts, like pink clouds, drifting in formation.
My office desk faced the picture window, near the border of riotous blooms;
And sunny views enriched often eager eyes, owing to birds of many plumes.
Friends were a forever force in my life, like the natural floods of floundering,
......
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Edwin Arlington Robinson (30 poems about Lost)
22 December 1869 – 6 April 1935 / Maine / United States -
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