Thursday, November 1, 2012

The art of losing isn't hard to master

I kind of hate the way my professor is teaching my English 230 Introduction to Literature  Poetry, and Fiction class. It's rather disappointing really; I was looking forward to class a lot and now I just dread it.  I like the reading. I hate the homework  how the tests are setup, and the lectures put me to sleep. I do often find poems I like in our book, however. Like this one:



One Art
Elizabeth Bishop

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.


I'll leave it up to you to interpret it your own way. I know what it means to me and that's how poetry should be.



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