Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
Stevie Smith
Besma at Life Demiraged
/ January 25, 2013This is actually my favorite poem, ever. What made you post it?
J.D. Gallagher
/ January 25, 2013Apropos of nothing it just popped into my head.
mizqui
/ January 25, 2013Oh how very thought provoking. I had never heard this poem before today. Thanks for “taking me there” in thought JD. I don’t want to be too far out…
J.D. Gallagher
/ January 25, 2013No problem, thanks for reading it.
Sandee
/ January 25, 2013Nice poem. Thanks for introducing me to it.
J.D. Gallagher
/ January 25, 2013No problem.
Student Hearts
/ January 26, 2013This should be written in the overview of my course…always drowning…
J.D. Gallagher
/ January 26, 2013Lol….it just seems like that now. You’ll look back and remember them as the best days of your life when you are older.
readinpleasure
/ January 26, 2013Very nice.
J.D. Gallagher
/ January 26, 2013One of my favorites.