Friday, 24 July 2015

Poem: One Art


One Art by Abigail Scheuer

 



The art of dining is not hard to master,
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be dined that their sugar may not be caster.

Eat something every day.  Accept the fluster 
of eaten cornflakes, that hour badly spent.
The art of dining is not hard to master.

Then practice eating farther, eating faster:
creams, and chocolate, and what it was you meant
 to taste.  None of this will bring disaster. 

I ate my mothers cake! And look, my last, or
next-to-last of three loved truffles went.
The art of dining is not hard to master.

I ate two cookies, delicious ones.  And vaster,
some brownies I devoured, some tarts, a whole pie.
I ate them, but it wasn't a disaster.

Even eating everything (the crumbly pastry, a taste I love
I shan't have lied.  It's evident 
the art of dining is not too hard to master,
though it may look like (Write it!) like caster.

     


One Art

BY 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