Related quotes: I am! yet what I...

Written in Northampton County Asylum

I am! yet what I am who cares, or knows?
My friends forsake me like a memory lost.
I am the self-consumer of my woes;
They rise and vanish, an oblivious host,
Shadows of life, whose very soul is lost.
And yet I am—I live—though I am toss’d

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dream,
Where there is neither sense of life, nor joys,
But the huge shipwreck of my own esteem
And all that’s dear. Even those I loved the best
Are strange—nay, they are stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod—
For scenes where woman never smiled or wept—
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Full of high thoughts, unborn. So let me lie,—
The grass below; above, the vaulted sky.

poem by John Clare
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Related quotes

I Am

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live like shadows tossed

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.

poem by John Clare (1865)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Who and what I am no one really knows

Who and what I am no one really knows
and the things in my mind
at times like a tornado blows
for a place of escape to find

into a world of bewildered noise
where my esteem and memories are lost
in a place without comfort or joys
where in shattered pieces my words are tossed

where even a whole religion spreads gossip and lies
while I try to walk with the creator God
they try to destroy my integrity, my humanity dies,
and friendless on uncharted ways I have to trod

while my own loved ones know me not,
do not even comprehend the thoughts that I have got.

[Reference: “I am – yet what I am none cares or knows” by John Clare.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Lost My Childhood

Yes i lost my childhood.
And it will never return.
I lost the innocient life
which i used to live.
I lost the fairy dreams
Which helped me for sound sleep.
Yes i lost toy car which i paddled for long.
i remember those fairy tales my mom told me.
I was a small school kid once,
Yes, I lost those moments.
With every day passing i am losing it
And i know it will never return.
Its true that i miss those days
But thats what i can only do.
I wanted to become big
But i was never aware of this hell.
I lost that laugh, i lost that joy.
I want that childhood again
I want to be a boy.
But all i got is a loss of childhood.

poem by James yardy
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Ode To Back Old Days

Another season of the year
Is now upon the earth and me;
Another spring will light these hills—
No other spring mine own may be:
I must retune my unstrung harp,
I must awake the sleeping tomb,
I must recall the loved and lost,
Ere spring again for me could bloom.

I've wandered, but it was in vain,
In many a far and foreign clime,
Absence is not forgetfulness,
And distance cannot vanquish time.
One face was ever in my sight,
One voice was ever on my ear,
From all earth's loveliness I turned
To wish, Ah that the dead were here!

Oh! weary wandering to no home,
Oh! weary wandering alone,
I turned to childhood's once glad scenes
And found life's last illusion flown.
Ah! those who left their childhood's scenes
For after-years of toil and pain,
Who but bring back the breaking heart
Should never seek those scenes again.

poem by Sunnetra Basu
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My First Poem

I lost somewhere before u dream,
I lost somewhere before u dream.

D day u dream d day I lost,
D day u dream d day I lost

Its d day d dream come true

I lost in woods d fire beneath
Dreaming the eyes d dream come true,
D day u dream d day I lost,

I lost in world d world of souls,
No matter what u wear, what u eat,
It only matters what u did what u think,

I lost somewhere before u dream,
I lost somewhere before u dream.
D day u dream d day I lost,

Opens d heart in soul rest mind,
Opens d sky as a sapphire of life,
No more bondings,
No more relations,
No more feels,
No more heals,
No more limits,
No more hopes,

D day I become an independent being

Its d day d dream come true,
D day u dream d day I lost,

I lost somewhere before u dream,
I lost somewhere before u dream……

poem by Imnt Alive
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On Death

1.
Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?
The transient pleasures as a vision seem,
And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.

2.
How strange it is that man on earth should roam,
And lead a life of woe, but not forsake
His rugged path; nor dare he view alone
His future doom which is but to awake.

poem by John Keats
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Who Cares?

What ever happens when a love goes wrong
When a love goes wrong some morning,
Goes wrong like the singer of a blackbird song
That a blackbird's not been born in?
Lost like the flutter of a butterfly's flight
In the wild south wind's clash-clatter,
Or a heartbeat stopped as an oak tree's lopped;
Who cares?
Why? What does it matter?

What ever happens to a love-lost love
To a love-lost love, come Autumn,
Or a bare beech, birch, or a grey stone church
Or the leaves that the birch tree brought them;
To walk in the shelter of a shaded lane
With the last of the lost love's chatter,
Like the half of a whole, or a lonely soul,
Who cares?
Why? What does it matter?

What ever happens to the other one - you
To the other you, half a love lonely,
Do you care, do you weep, do you rest, do you sleep
When you love alone, loving me only?
Will you heave some sigh in your memory's eye
For the scenes of our springtime laughter,
Or burn some flame to erase my name...
Who cares?
Why? What does it matter?

11 December 1975

poem by David Lewis Paget
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Memories Of The Roeside

Scenes of a childhood,
Long years ago,
Surface in memory as vivid as snow:
The Mullagh, the Dogleap,
The Wet Wood and the Dry…
Memories of the Roeside
Bringing tears to each eye.

And where are the friends
Of those days before?
Do they share the fond memories
Which I have in store?
Do they think of the Marshfield,
The old Wireless Lane,
Nicholl’s Brae, The Flat,
And the high Rock of Kane?

Do they recall the summers
By the Wee Rock at the Mill,
Or the sports in the Avenue
With many a thrill?
And what of the ‘characters’-
Ah, too many to relate;
It being good fortune
To share partly their fate…

Oh these memories of childhood,
Of school- days, of youth,
I cling to like life, as precious as truth.
And to those still living, my friends of the Roe
I drink you a toast to times long ago.

poem by Liam ó Comáin
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I am Lost Now

Thoughts of Nothing
Thoughts of Darkness

No Dreams or Goals
No Hopes or Spirit

Only the Remnants of a soul remain
Tattered and Torn, No hope of Revival

I am lost to my self
I am lost to all

Deserted me, my friends have
Deserted me, my soul has
Deserted me, all for a Dream

I am Lost Now
Oh so Lost

No one to run to
No where to go

My only wish is to disappear from memory
To be lost in the depths of time, and space

For I am an Empty bottle
Cast aside without a second thought

poem by Brad Combs
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Lost and Alone

Lost without love
Lost without family
Lost without friends
Lost without anyone
Lost without memories
Lost without thoughts
Lost without caring
Lost without a heart
Lost without a soul
Lost without feelings
Lost without dreams
Lost without life
Lost without the world
Lost without earth
Lost in my mind

Alone with the devil
Alone to burn in hell
Alone to be remembered
Alone on an island
Alone to be myself
Alone to love myself
Alone to love no one
Alone on earth
Alone in life
Alone with no thoughts
Alone with no love
Alone with no one
Alone with no memories
Alone to think
Alone to know oneself
Alone to find me

poem by Marilee Morley
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Thoughts of Home

I watched them from the window, thy children at their play,
And I thought of all my own dear friends, who were far, oh, far away,
And childish loves, and childish cares, and a child’s own buoyant gladness
Came gushing back again to me with a soft and solemn sadness;
And feelings frozen up full long, and thoughts of long ago,
Seemed to be thawing at my heart with a warm and sudden flow.

I looked upon thy children, and I thought of all and each,
Of my brother and my sister, and our rambles on the beach,
Of my mother’s gentle voice, and my mother’s beckoning hand,
And all the tales she used to tell of the far, far English land;
And the happy, happy evening hours, when I sat on my father’s knee,
Oh! many a wave is rolling now betwixt that seat and me!

And many a day has passed away since, I left them o’er the sea,
And I have lived a life since then of boyhood’s thoughtless glee;
Yet of the blessed times gone by not seldom would I dream,
And childhood’s joy, like faint far stars, in memory’s heaven would gleam,
And o’er the sea to those I loved my thoughts would often roam,
But never knew I until now the blessings of a home!

I used to think when I was there that my own true home was here,
But home is not in land or sky, but in those whom each holds dear.
The evening’s cooling breeze is fanning my temples now,
But then my frame was languid, and heated was my brow,
And I longed for England’s cool, and for England’s breezes then,
But now I would give full many a breeze to be back in the heat again.

But when cold strange looks without, and proud high thoughts within,
Are weaving round my heart the woof of selfishness and sin;
When self begins to roll a far, a worse and wider sea
Of careless and unloving thoughts between those friends and me,
I will think upon these moments, and call to mind the day
When I watched them from the window, thy children at their play.

poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Lost

Lost my mind, forgotten my way
Cant tell the difference between night and day
Lost all meaning and driven with strife
Become a stranger to my own life
Lost when I stare empty into the mirror
And the person staring back is unfamiler
Lost the sense of what's surreal or reality
On the verge of losing my sanity
Lost in my will and in my soul
Cant think straight I lose control
Lost in a world full of pain and sorrow
Lost in a world were there is no tomorrow

poem by Nic Hillen
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Back From A Two-years' Sentence

Back from a two-years' sentence!
And though it had been ten,
You think, I were scarred no deeper
In the eyes of my fellow-men.
'My fellow-men--?' Sounds like a satire,
You think-- and I so allow,
Here in my home since childhood,
Yet more than a stranger now!

Pardon--! Not wholly a stranger--,
For I have a wife and child:
That woman has wept for two long years,
And yet last night she smiled--!
Smiled, as I leapt from the platform
Of the midnight train, and then--
All that I knew was that smile of hers,
And our babe in my arms again!

Back from a two-years' sentence--
But I've thought the whole thing through--,
A hint of it came when the bars swung back
And I looked straight up in the blue
Of the blessed skies with my hat off!
O-ho! I've a wife and child:
That woman has wept for two long years,
And yet last night she smiled!

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Papa you too....part II

I continue to wonder and also enjoy,
Rejoice at home but not others to annoy,
Tease papa always with broad smile
Soon it was to prove deception for while

If myth was reality and ready to explode,
Dark clouds were at horizons ready to invade,
Time has come when spade is to be called spade,
Memory is short and ready to fade,

One fine morning I ventured into garden,
Flowers were in boom and fruits so laden,
Blossom could be seen and was at its peak,
Future was to turn gloom and soon to be bleak,

I heard laugh and murmuring voice,
It was my papa roaming with lady nice,
Was this real papa who used to be so kind?
I was loosing sense with disturbed mind

I held long breath and wept for while,
Papa at home always used to smile,
we may now loose pap by extra mile
in our own home we may live in exile

was mother at fault that she never learnt?
Did she know already and allow finger to be burnt?
I didn't know as what is to be done,
Is that to be called fate which took on us sudden?

I sat restless but not preferred to hate,
Papa used to come home not very late,
There was never a question where I had to rate,
Was that not cruel game played by the fate?

I still do relish and find you papa dear,
You may have been bitter by long many years,
Mom being ugly you couldn't her bear,
Life may be very hard and out of gear,

You may have compelling reasons,
But you never changed with seasons,
You took great care and looked after us well,
Life continued to be difficult and living hell,

Papa I see the reasons behind,
Though it may be new for me to find,
I won't be carried away by heavy wind,
Heart may feel heavy, thoughts full in mind,

Papa I never blame you for simple reason,
you have been always kind and also human,
Had it been fact so and you with other woman?
I too feel as a female and not as simple layman,

had it not been papa you so dear?
We would have lived always with unknown fear,
Would have faced woes and no one could hear,
Could have lost simply with no patience to ears,

So to say papa you are still the best,
At least we could find home as nest,
We continue to rest trying our best,
Days may pass and future will be test,

I never regret your decision precise,
Hold you with high esteem in our premise,
Never I may utter a word even at my demise,
I say this to self and make you promise

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A papa in same boat