Long Poems About T S Eliot
#TSEliot
Manor On A Hill
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.’
‘In my ending is my beginning.’
-T. S. Elliot
In creaks of shadows,
your windswept promontory
behind twigs of Forsythia,
bent Lilac branches,
your dusty red and green
antiqued form emerges as I look up.
As I walk along your cliffs,
trodding sparse grass
growing on steep mounds
too treacherous to climb,
I look up to view your hulking angularity,
your grey windows shrouded in dust.
At the base of your cliffs the...
‘In my ending is my beginning.’
-T. S. Elliot
In creaks of shadows,
your windswept promontory
behind twigs of Forsythia,
bent Lilac branches,
your dusty red and green
antiqued form emerges as I look up.
As I walk along your cliffs,
trodding sparse grass
growing on steep mounds
too treacherous to climb,
I look up to view your hulking angularity,
your grey windows shrouded in dust.
At the base of your cliffs the...
#home
#historical
#TSEliot #NaPoWriMo2020
#TSEliot #NaPoWriMo2020
628 reads
6 Comments
Of Death And Birth: Fire And The Rose
We die with the dying:
See, they depart and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.'
-T. S. Elliot
I
The way of ignorance is the way home:
Go, go! Folly is the only way;
knowledge is the unlearning of itself.
Do not try harder, try less;
this is the only way, the unpropitious one.
(Love is the only lesson that can't be learned.)
The Sky and The Earth agree:
I end where I began,
the way there...
See, they depart and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.'
-T. S. Elliot
I
The way of ignorance is the way home:
Go, go! Folly is the only way;
knowledge is the unlearning of itself.
Do not try harder, try less;
this is the only way, the unpropitious one.
(Love is the only lesson that can't be learned.)
The Sky and The Earth agree:
I end where I began,
the way there...
#birth
#death
#fall
#LifeCycle
#TSEliot
838 reads
8 Comments
The Hallowed Wo/Men
![restricted poem](/images/extremecontent.jpg)
#conflict
#TSEliot
1375 reads
46 Comments
the capes, the drawls, the runs through the door.
(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...
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...
#LifeStruggles
#memories
#nostalgia
#StreamOfConsciousness
#TSEliot
667 reads
11 Comments
A Beauty
I am moved by the fancies that are curled
Around these images and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing ‘
- T. S. Elliot
I
The heart can go to and fro
This is what I know of love, not beauty,
For I loved in the grittiest of moments,
Tattered and beaten, hands soiled.
Beauty knows not of its own shadow;
It is one with itself, it is an illusion,
How it aspires to what we already know.
II
Borne in calamity, faced with...
Around these images and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing ‘
- T. S. Elliot
I
The heart can go to and fro
This is what I know of love, not beauty,
For I loved in the grittiest of moments,
Tattered and beaten, hands soiled.
Beauty knows not of its own shadow;
It is one with itself, it is an illusion,
How it aspires to what we already know.
II
Borne in calamity, faced with...
#TSEliot
742 reads
9 Comments
DU Poetry : Long Poems About T S Eliot
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