Ian WhiteMorning Poetry: The End of Forever
December 21st 2010 13:49
Category: No Category
The sky cracks
The moon splinters
Foreboding webs obstruct the stars
Fingers of acknowledgement
Evolve to catapults of defiance
Opposing their salvation
Throwing discarded ideas to the heavens
The World Shatters
Seasons of Despair
Hours of Regret
Minutes of Anger
Centuries of Death
Falling
Everything is falling
I tumble through nothing
Surrounded by everything
Tarnished wedding ring
Doves too melancholy to sing
Is this a plunge?
Am I ascending?
It's all to the same destination
Impoverished and supreme nations are one
The divided
United by their destruction
Fire is set to corruption and redemption
Hope and dissension
Abstract and convention
It's over
I watch
Encased in suspended glass
The only remaining symmetry
Mourning the loss of divinity
As the sands of time bleed on dying infinity
The End
The moon splinters
Foreboding webs obstruct the stars
Fingers of acknowledgement
Evolve to catapults of defiance
Opposing their salvation
Throwing discarded ideas to the heavens
The World Shatters
Seasons of Despair
Hours of Regret
Minutes of Anger
Centuries of Death
Falling
Everything is falling
I tumble through nothing
Surrounded by everything
Tarnished wedding ring
Doves too melancholy to sing
Is this a plunge?
Am I ascending?
It's all to the same destination
Impoverished and supreme nations are one
The divided
United by their destruction
Fire is set to corruption and redemption
Hope and dissension
Abstract and convention
It's over
I watch
Encased in suspended glass
The only remaining symmetry
Mourning the loss of divinity
As the sands of time bleed on dying infinity
The End
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Comment by nightlydvdreview
Nightly DVD Review
Cinema Voyage
Green and Healthy
The Writer's Nook
Not trying to swell your head or anything, but truly, you sound a little like Yeats. You have talent.
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Comment by nightlydvdreview
Nightly DVD Review
Cinema Voyage
Green and Healthy
The Writer's Nook
"What rough beast
It's hour come round at last
slouches toward Bethlahem to be born."
(The whole poem is a commentary on how the world at his time was moving away from science and democracy and more towards mysticism and other things. Here is a quote from Sparknotes that might assist in the understanding, as this is one of Yeat's most confusing, and most studied, pieces.)
the world’s trajectory along the gyre of science, democracy, and heterogeneity is now coming apart, like the frantically widening flight-path of the falcon that has lost contact with the falconer; the next age will take its character not from the gyre of science, democracy, and speed, but from the contrary inner gyre—which, presumably, opposes mysticism, primal power, and slowness to the science and democracy of the outer gyre. The “rough beast” slouching toward Bethlehem is the symbol of this new age; the speaker’s vision of the rising sphinx is his vision of the character of the new world.
Later!
Comment by Ian White
A Cynic's-Eye-View
Amuse I
Collective Wit
Daily Wit