"straus" poems
Went for a cruise on the maiden ship Titanic,
A wonderful ship everyone said would be epic
I was not scared because it was unsinkable
To be in fear would for me be unthinkable
Wanted to sail far away to another land
Where my life, I think could be quite grand
Unpacking my suitcase in a luxurious liner
This is the one yacht that could not be finer.
Passengers enjoyed dinner, dancing, and other entertainments.
All the days of the trip they would enjoy the embellishments
I heard that people like Astor, Guggenheim Straus, Thayer and Gordon
Would be on this ship including Stead, Fulrelle, Gibson and Morgan
On April 14, 1912 I was that evening returning to my room
Walking down the corridor I heard a deafening boom
Went to find an RMS crew member
When I was told on deck to assemble
He handed me a life jacket just in case
And to get in the lifeboat because there was space
Passengers were lowered down by the crew
The first little boat had just a few
A man started quickly paddling our tiny boat
Once far away he stopped and we would just float
Everyone watched as we heard screaming, crying and yelling
Amongst the chaos we heard music and saw the flares flying
In the early hours of April 15, the ship’s lights flickered out and then went straight up vertical
We all heard the moans of the iron and watched it break in half and it sank uncontrollable
From quite a distance I saw an ocean of people
Out in the middle of the sea, no one felt hopeful
Soon there was no sound
As we all looked around
Shivering crying and wondering
If we are going to live or die pondering
published in the Crawfordsville, Indiana newspaper
Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
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.
From The Complete Poems 1927-1979 by Elizabeth Bishop, published by Farrar, Straus & Giroux, Inc. Copyright © 1979, 1983 by Alice Helen Methfessel.
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC
My Old Flame
My old flame, my wife!
Remember our lists of birds?
One morning last summer, I drove
by our house in Maine. It was still
on top of its hill -
Now a red ear of Indian maize
was splashed on the door.
Old Glory with thirteen stripes
hung on a pole. The clapboard
was old-red schoolhouse red.
Inside, a new landlord,
a new wife, a new broom!
Atlantic seaboard antique shop
pewter and plunder
shone in each room.
A new frontier!
No running next door
now to phone the sheriff
for his taxi to Bath
and the State Liquor Store!
No one saw your ghostly
imaginary lover
stare through the window
and tighten
the scarf at his throat.
Health to the new people,
health to their flag, to their old
restored house on the hill!
Everything had been swept bare,
furnished, garnished and aired.
Everything's changed for the best -
how quivering and fierce we were,
there snowbound together,
simmering like wasps
in our tent of books!
Poor ghost, old love, speak
with your old voice
of flaming insight
that kept us awake all night.
In one bed and apart,
we heard the plow
groaning up hill -
a red light, then a blue,
as it tossed off the snow
to the side of the road.
Lowell Robert (1964). “My Old Flame” (p. 5). For the Union Dead. Farrar, Straus & Giroux, NY.
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 9:49 AM UTC
It was the nightfall of summer,
A man wanted to buy a house.
Just he knew it is a real comer,
Puts it in his own name Straus.
Mr. Straus wanted it to be quick,
He wrote down the rent pricing.
Hope its low, or he won’t buy it,
I want it low, it’s all to my liking.
He needs this to become his own,
What do I need for an experience?
Just I wanted to call this my home,
For a house, needing a cleanliness.
He’s happy to buy his first house,
Just couldn’t wait to check inside.
He lives far away from his spouse,
Living here so if he needs to hide.
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC