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Fall Poetry Recommendations 🍁

To Autumn by John Keats

My November Guest by Robert Frost

Fall, leaves, fall by Emily Brontë

Autumn by John Clare

End of Summer by Stanley Kunitz

Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare

Sunset to Star Rise by Christina Rossetti

First Fall by Maggie Smith

Ode to the West Wind by P.B. Shelley

Autumn Song by W.H. Auden

Tell me not here by  A.E. Houseman

The Wild Swans at Coole William Butler Yeats

Japanese Maple by Clive James

The Beautiful Changes by Richard Wilbur

Among the Rocks by Robert Browning

Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost

Beyond the Red River by Thomas McGrath

September Midnight by Sara Teasdale

Autumn Fires by Robert Louis Stevenson

A Reminiscence by Richard O. Moore

It's September by Edgar Albert Guest

With crestfallen eyes, the young boy then asked his father from where melancholy emanates, and the father answered: "The agonies you acquire are the children of elation. If not all, they're the nephews and nieces. 'Tis not the sun just effusing sunlight, but the same sun that draws out the elixir from the oceans and forms the clouds, and the same clouds that take the shape of storms. 'Tis not the aroma enticing the butterflies, but the same fragrance that decides which flower would be plucked first by a lover to give joyance to his cherished. 'Tis not the light just illumining your flesh to perceive yourself in the mirror, but the same light that decides the emergence of the shadow on the other side. The poor Earth has little to produce on its own. So every time you're elated, know that it is burrowed and costs someone else their own contentment, whether animate or inanimate. Every time you're enraptured, know that it's just an altered form of someone else's grief and desolation".

Shayan Das, Excerpt from Origin of Sorrow

We aren't afraid to suffer; we're scared of suffering alone.

Shayan Das

Hey, I've loved love ever since I knew what love was. I love the thought of being in love or even the thought of someone truly loving something and you seem to feel the same. Romantic love is obviously glorified throughout all kinds of medium and is present every where around us and yep, despite never being in love I'm bound to believe it's worth it.

And sometimes, it just hits me, and there is this tiny tiny ache in me, desperately wanting something I don't even know how it feels and well, I choose to ignore it and move on. Do you ever get that? I'm guessing you do, but what I wish to know is how you deal with it?

Maybe by just bleeding out on pages or modestly moving on, heeding largely to things I've got control over. After all, 'tis not the first time and I've not loved entirely a single entity in life. Speaking specifically from the romantic aspect, certainly, there would always be that missing part of the puzzle so as long we do not get it. Being an only child, a sheer introvert and someone who's got so much to tell but no one to listen to, I feel like sometimes it's love and sometimes it's necessity disguised as love. I don't aspire to get someone who'd love me more than themselves but someone who'd dance with me in the rain even when there's lightning outside. Someone with whom I can contentedly do robbery over the apprehensions of death, someone whom I can love vehemently even 'fore I fall in love with them.

People think they fail in vain, but I say 'in vain' is a phrase for the defeatists. You might never know how unexpectedly your failure brings a rain of gratification in the sunburnt deserts of your adversaries, how miraculously it acts as a source of hope for all those who doubt their aptitudes all day long only 'cause they can't beat you and how enigmatically it opens infinite pages to be a bit more resilient, a bit more powerful, a bit stronger perhaps no book or teacher can ever make you comprehend the same. 

Shayan Das

Maybe I love her eyes more than anything else in the world 'cause they add testimony to my existence every time I look into them.

Shayan Das

Sometimes even healing can go through breaking—as when the seamster stitches a tattered garment and end up making several smaller holes to repair a bigger one. Nonetheless, I've admired that breaking and oftentimes more than the healing expecting it to conceal my scars.

Shayan Das

What comes to your mind when you behold the moon? Her beauty, her sobriety, her ataraxy? Does she arouse you with her esoteric charm or take you to an uncharted land where you lie composedly amidst your materiality and hallucinations? Whatever it may be, the bitter reality is that whatever the moon possesses is all borrowed from someone else, who in turn is rough, harsh, and relentless. But does it create any discrepancy? Don’t you love her? Or does she not bring you the memories of your foregone romance? Those promiscuous kisses and vehement embraces? In life, try to consume the acrimony of others and spread the art of mellowness through your moves, for, in the long run, it’s not what you receive but what you give that makes all the difference!

Shayan Das

Your self-esteem is a double-edged sword. It all depends on the 'self' of self-esteem whether it'll pull you up from the nadir or push you down from the pinnacle.

Shayan Das

If ever in life you'll look back and cry remember it won't be because you could not but because you did not.

Shayan Das