Clutching At Straw
An unexamined life, thought Daniel,
settling for the night on an eiderdown
of lions, is not a life at all.
I was hardly born until a little while ago,
testing the hunger of these beasts,
daring my ten-to-the dozen heart
to beat as never before.
Not anymore, he thought. Not anymore.
No more Daniel what’s-his-name
with television seven nights a week,
and adventure – someone knocking
at the door. Not anymore. Not anymore.
Up like a lark, he thought. Up like a lark.
I’ll pace the cage and gauge my space,
and I’ll not clutch at strands of straw
but roar, like them, for meat and even bite
the hand of anyone that feeds me.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Clutching At Straw by Brian Wake )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- The Flower of Liberty, Oliver Wendell Holmes
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- First Day at School, Roger McGough
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
Poem of the Day
- innocence, abdirahman haaji rilwaan
- MOST LIVING PEOPLE, Michael P. Johnson
- Beautiful rose, Andytics mufc
- How Not to Play War, Ima Ryma
- We are here to sing, gajanan mishra
- The Girls And Their Peep Hole, Is It Poetry
- Goodbye dream, Marilyn Jean
- '' You're No Better Than Us '', bri mar
- Becoming Part Of Intellect, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Nineteen Years Since Your Passing, Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthe ..