The heart of the matter

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.

Daydream delusion
Limosine eyelash
Oh, baby, with your pretty face.
Drop a tear in my wine glass.
Look at those big eyes.
See what you mean to me.
Sweet cakes and milkshakes.
I am a delusion angel.
I am a fantasy parade.
I want you to know what I think.
Don't want you to guess anymore.
You have no idea where I came from.
You have no idea where we are going.
Lodged in life, like branches in the river.
Flowing downstream, caught in the current.
I'll carry you, you'll carry me.
That's how it could be.
Don't you know me?
Don't you know me by now?
All the locks in the city, began in whir and chime.
Oh, let not time deceive you.
You can not conquer time.
In headaches and in worry.
Vaguely life leaks away and time will have his fancy tomorrow or today.    

 
 
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