Favourite Poets: Edgar Allen Poe, Alone

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From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—
I don’t know, I always feel like this poem speaks to and celebrates uniqueness, not fitting in and being as everyone expects you to be. That’s just my interpretation of it, but it feels like a comfort 🙂
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Poem that makes me think – Alone, Maya Angelou

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Alone

Lying, thinking

Last night

How to find my soul a home

Where water is not thirsty

And bread loaf is not stone

I came up with one thing

And I don’t believe I’m wrong

That nobody,

But nobody

Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone

Nobody, but nobody

Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires

With money they can’t use

Their wives run round like banshees

Their children sing the blues

They’ve got expensive doctors

To cure their hearts of stone.

But nobody

No, nobody

Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone

Nobody, but nobody

Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely

I’ll tell you what I know

Storm clouds are gathering

The wind is gonna blow

The race of man is suffering

And I can hear the moan,

‘Cause nobody,

But nobody

Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone

Nobody, but nobody

Can make it out here alone.

Thoughts

I want to dislike this poem because I am trying to shut the entire world and do the alone thing. I’ve done well so far, isolated myself in as many ways possible from the world, that I may as well be sitting on a crag of a rock in the middle of the Scottish sea (with Wifi, naturally).

But of course, she’s right. We might be born alone, and we might die alone, but for some unfathomable reason, we are drawn to be with other people, no matter what hell they put us through or are minds stir up in their presence because we don’t know how to react better.

It’s the finding the way back in that’s the challenge.

Every single poem Maya Angelou writes is like a beautiful, earthy mother figure, a strong, independent woman, a sage, wise elder, and your best friend, all rolled into one. I truly hope she knows what an incredible impact she’s had on so many lives with her beautiful words.