Poems About T S Eliot Seeking Honest Critique

(after T. S. Eliot)

I  
In temple’s dust forgotten,  
Constrained by eyeless thought,  
With crowns of sand,  
We stand in reddened sun,  
The ancient columns, the iron rust,  
Mantles, where the ancients sought.  
 
Our glass towers now catch the light but not  
The answers found in walls of temple’s eyes.  
 
On dark stained oak,  
In crystal braziers, sacrifices smoke.  
The crimson stains of lips  
That older tributes’ stain implies,  
The choke of olive’s slip,  
With tilting...

(for The Love Song of T. Stearns Eliot competition)  
      
smell the lamb before it breaks,        
before it is sold by the butcher,        
before he pins up his notaries        
  of meat available.        
his slimy hands back-slapping slap of chop sliding        
  and the baying tongue will        
lick his grime back into the fleece; its ashtray        
of ( forgotten things)        
       
- the bottom of a lane mist.        
- beneath the cushions of a velvet armchair.        
- the impetuous run...

In each we saw that touch of suave
Entertain, to proffer oh so smart  
A classless act  
James Dean with a cap and a look supreme  
Not the butt but and idiols artifact
That king size slipped from its magazine  
A content shared  
That smile of intentions undeclared  
 Tap the burned disregards  
The fingers singed and stained  
 That's lifes ashtray
Mingled in the smoke of dreams and hopes