Sunday, 2 January 2011


This poem has inspired me through so many meh-wah-blah parts of my life. Parts of my life with various circumstances. The backstory behind it is so tragic as well, it's essentially inspired by the suicide of Bishop's girlfriend after a shakey depression filled relationship. A lot sadder than anything my 23 years has thrown me. Anyways, enjoy:

One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master; 
so many things seem filled with the intent 
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.  

Lose something every day. 
Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. 
The art of losing isn't hard to master.  

Then practice losing farther, losing faster: 
places, and names, and where it was you meant  
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.  

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or 
next-to-last, of three loved houses went. 
The art of losing isn't hard to master.  

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, 
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. 
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.   

--Even losing you (the joking voice, 
a gesture I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
 the art of losing's not too hard to master 
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.


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