Not Waving but Drowning 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 too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.by Stevie Smith
To his Heart, bidding it have no Fear
Be you still, be you still, trembling heart; by William Butler Yeats
Remember the wisdom out of the old days:
Him who trembles before the flame and the flood,
And the winds that blow through the starry ways,
Let the starry winds and the flame and the flood
Cover over and hide, for he has no part
With the lonely, majestical multitude.
A wild poppy-flower by Langston Hughes
Withered and died.
The day-people laughed --
But the night-people cried.
A wild poppy-flower
Withered and died.
I could tell you, by Langston Hughes
If I wanted to,
What makes me
What I am.
But I don't
Really want to --
And you don't
Give a damn.
What happens to a dream deferred? by Langston Hughes
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore --
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
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