My Suicide

Related poetry:

1. A Song Of Suicide Deeming that I were better dead, “How shall I kill myself?” I said. Thus mooning by the river Seine I sought extinction without pain, When on a bridge I saw a flash Of lingerie and heard a splash. . . So as I am a swimmer stout I plunged and pulled the poor wretch out. […]...
2. Suicide In The Trenches I knew a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and glum, With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again. You smug-faced crowds […]...
3. The Suicide's Argument Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no No question was asked me it could not be so! If the life was the question, a thing sent to try And to live on be YES; what can NO be? to die. NATURE’S ANSWER Is’t returned, as ’twas sent? Is’t no worse […]...
4. Der mann im keller How cool and fair this cellar where My throne a dusky cask is; To do no thing but just to sing And drown the time my task is. The cooper he’s Resolved to please, And, answering to my winking, He fills me up Cup after cup For drinking, drinking, drinking. Begrudge me not This cosy […]...
5. A Ballad Of Suicide The gallows in my garden, people say, Is new and neat and adequately tall; I tie the noose on in a knowing way As one that knots his necktie for a ball; But just as all the neighbours-on the wall – Are drawing a long breath to shout “Hurray!” The strangest whim has seized me. […]...
6. Room Ghost Though elegance I ill afford, My living-room is green and gold; The former tenant was a lord Who died of drinking, I am told. I fancy he was rather bored; I don’t think he was over old. And where on books I dully browse, And gaze in rapture at the sea, My predecessor world carouse […]...
7. The Suicide “Curse thee, Life, I will live with thee no more! Thou hast mocked me, starved me, beat my body sore! And all for a pledge that was not pledged by me, I have kissed thy crust and eaten sparingly That I might eat again, and met thy sneers With deprecations, and thy blows with tears,- […]...
8. Suicide Note “You speak to me of narcissism but I reply that it is A matter of my life” – Artaud “At this time let me somehow bequeath all the leftovers To my daughters and their daughters” – Anonymous Better, Despite the worms talking to The mare’s hoof in the field; Better, Despite the season of young […]...
9. Eleventh Hour The bloom was off the economic recovery. “I just want to know one thing,” she said. What was that one thing? He’ll never know, Because at just that moment he heard the sound Of broken glass in the bathroom, and when he got there, It was dark. His hand went to the wall But the […]...
10. Out of Sight They held a polo meeting at a little country town, And all the local sportsmen came to win themselves renown. There came two strangers with a horse, and I am much afraid They both belonged to what is called “the take-you-down brigade”. They said their horse could jump like fun, and asked an amateur To […]...
11. Suicide's Stone Peace is the heir of dead desire, Whether abundance killed the cormorant In a happy hour, or sleep or death Drowned him deep in dreamy waters, Peace is the ashes of that fire, The heir of that king, the inn of that journey. This last and best and goal: we dead Hold it so tight […]...
12. A rhine-land drinking song If our own life is the life of a flower (And that’s what some sages are thinking), We should moisten the bud with a health-giving flood And ’twill bloom all the sweeter Yes, life’s the completer For drinking, And drinking, And drinking. If it be that our life is a journey (As many wise folk […]...
13. For John Clare Kind of empty in the way it sees everything, the earth gets to its feet andsalutes the sky. More of a success at it this time than most others it is. The feeling that the sky might be in the back of someone’s mind. Then there is no telling how many there are. They grace […]...
14. Absence My cup is empty to-night, Cold and dry are its sides, Chilled by the wind from the open window. Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight. The room is filled with the strange scent Of wistaria blossoms. They sway in the moon’s radiance And tap against the wall. But the cup of my […]...
15. My Papa's Waltz The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother’s countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed […]...
16. The Bean-Stalk Ho, Giant! This is I! I have built me a bean-stalk into your sky! La,-but it’s lovely, up so high! This is how I came,-I put Here my knee, there my foot, Up and up, from shoot to shoot- And the blessed bean-stalk thinning Like the mischief all the time, Till it took me rocking, […]...
17. My Tails I haven’t worn my evening dress For nearly twenty years; Oh I’m unsocial, I confess, A hermit, it appears. So much moth-balled it’s but away, And though wee wifie wails, Never unto my dimmest day I’ll don my tails. How slim and trim I looked in them, Though I was sixty old; And now their […]...
18. Retired I used to sing, when I was young, The joy of idleness; But now I’m grey I hold my tongue, For frankly I confess If I had not some job to do I would be bored to death; So I must toil until I’m through With this asthmatic breath. Where others slothfully would brood beg […]...
19. The Spell Of The Yukon I wanted the gold, and I sought it, I scrabbled and mucked like a slave. Was it famine or scurvy I fought it; I hurled my youth into a grave. I wanted the gold, and I got it Came out with a fortune last fall, Yet somehow life’s not what I thought it, And somehow […]...
20. Poet's Path My garden hath a slender path With ivy overgrown, A secret place where once would pace A pot all alone; I see him now with fretted brow, Plunged deep in thought; And sometimes he would write maybe, And sometimes he would not. A verse a day he used to say Keeps worry from the door; […]...
21. The Blue Mountains Above the ashes straight and tall, Through ferns with moisture dripping, I climb beneath the sandstone wall, My feet on mosses slipping. Like ramparts round the valley’s edge The tinted cliffs are standing, With many a broken wall and ledge, And many a rocky landing. And round about their rugged feet Deep ferny dells are […]...
22. If Thou Could'st Empty All Thyself Of Self If thou could’st empty all thyself of self, Like to a shell dishabited, Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf, And say, “This is not dead,” And fill thee with Himself instead. But thou are all replete with very thou And hast such shrewd activity, That when He comes He says, “This is […]...
23. The Gardener XIII: I Asked Nothing I asked nothing, only stood at the Edge of the wood behind the tree. Languor was still upon the eyes Of the dawn, and the dew in the air. The lazy smell of the damp grass Hung in the thin mist above the earth. Under the banyan tree you were Milking the cow with your […]...
24. Isaiah Beethoven They told me I had three months to live, So I crept to Bernadotte, And sat by the mill for hours and hours Where the gathered waters deeply moving Seemed not to move: O world, that’s you! You are but a widened place in the river Where Life looks down and we rejoice for her […]...
25. Grin If you’re up against a bruiser and you’re getting knocked about Grin. If you’re feeling pretty groggy, and you’re licked beyond a doubt Grin. Don’t let him see you’re funking, let him know with every clout, Though your face is battered to a pulp, your blooming heart is stout; Just stand upon your pins until […]...
26. Bed Sitter He stared at me with sad, hurt eyes, That drab, untidy man; And though my clients I despise I do the best I can To comfort them with cheerful chat; (Quite comme il faut, of course) And furnish evidence so that Their wives may claim divorce. But as this chap sobbed out his woes I […]...
27. Freethinker Although the Preacher be a bore, The Atheist is even more. I ain’t religious worth a damn; My views are reckoned to be broad; And yet I shut up like a clam When folks get figgerin’ on God; I’d hate my kids to think like me, And though they leave me in the lurch, I’m […]...
28. The Egg and the Machine He gave the solid rail a hateful kick. From far away there came an answering tick And then another tick. He knew the code: His hate had roused an engine up the road. He wished when he had had the track alone He had attacked it with a club or stone And bent some rail […]...
29. Tea On The Lawn It was foretold by sybils three That in an air crash he would die. “I’ll fool their prophesy,” said he; “You won’t get me to go on high. Howe’re the need for haste and speed, I’ll never, never, never fly.” It’s true he traveled everywhere, Afar and near, by land and sea, Yet he would […]...
30. The Duties of an Aide-de-camp Oh, some folk think vice-royalty is festive and hilarious, The duties of an A. D. C. are manifold and various, So listen, whilst I tell in song The duties of an aide-de-cong. Whatsoever betide To the Governor’s side We must stick or the public would eat him For each bounder we see Says, “Just introduce […]...
31. The Floor The floor is something we must fight against. Whilst seemingly mere platform for the human Stance, it is that place that men fall to. I am not dizzy. I stand as a tower, a lighthouse; The pale ray of my sentiency flowing from my face. But should I go dizzy I crash down into the […]...
32. My Vineyard To me at night the stars are vocal. They say: ‘Your planet’s oh so local! A speck of dust in heaven’s ceiling; Your faith divine a foolish feeling. What odds if you are chaos hurled, Yours is a silly little world.’ For their derision, haply true, I hate the stars, as wouldn’t you? But whether […]...
33. Lost Kitten Two men I saw reel from a bar And stumble down the street; Coarse and uncouth as workmen are, They walked with wobbly feet. I watched them, thinking sadly as I heard their hobnails clink, The only joy a toiler has Is to get drowned in drink. A kitten on a wall, A skinny, starving […]...
34. Alpine Holiday He took the grade in second – quite a climb, Dizzy and dangerous, yet how sublime! The road went up and up; it curved around The mountain and the gorge grew more profound. He drove serenely, with no hint of haste; And then she felt his arm go round her waist. She shrank: she did […]...
35. Echoes in an empty room The strident sounds of silence echo In a darkened room, a beggar’s tomb Of emptied space and barrenness, a Shameful waste, a bitter sadness. It violates all sense of being strips aside All causal meaning bound inside the shrinking Wrap that clings to surfaces debased, Insulates the tiny tap of time, a skulking Soulless mirthless […]...
36. The Sun Was Slumbering in the West The sun was slumbering in the West, My daily labors past; On Anna’s soft and gentle breast My head reclined at last; The darkness closed around, so dear To fond congenial souls, And thus she murmur’d at my ear, “My love, we’re out of coals! “That Mister Bond has call’d again, Insisting on his rent; […]...
37. Just Keep Quiet and Nobody Will Notice There is one thing that ought to be taught in all the colleges, Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies. I don’t mean the kind of apologies people make when they run over you or borrow five dollars or step on your feet, Because I think that […]...
38. The Venal Muse O muse of my heart, lover of palaces, Will you bring, when January lets loose its sleet And its black evenings without solace, An ember to warm my violet feet? What will revive your bruised shoulders, The nocturnal rays that pierce the shutters? When you cannot feel your palace, just your empty billfold, How will […]...
39. The Choral Union He staggered in from night and frost and fog And lampless streets: he’d guzzled like a hog And drunk till he was dazed. And now he came To hear-he couldn’t call to mind the name – But he’d been given a ticket for the show, And thought he’d (hiccup) chance his luck and go. The […]...
40. A Letter From the Front I was out early to-day, spying about From the top of a haystack such a lovely morning And when I mounted again to canter back I saw across a field in the broad sunlight A young Gunner Subaltern, stalking along With a rook-rifle held at the read, and would you believe it? A domestic cat, […]...