Poetry Meme

[athelind]

So far, I've only seen this in paka's journal, but here's something topical:

T H E S E C O N D C O M I N G
William Butler Yeats -- 1921

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Comments

[velvetpage.livejournal.com]

Oh, come on. Santa is fun!

My daughter looks at every picture of Santa Claus and yells, "Opa! Opa!" She's right, too - my father-in-law plays Santa in a local mall every year, complete with real white beard.

I'm thinking we're clogging up Athelind's journal with personal stuff. Can I friend you?

[r-caton.livejournal.com]

Sho' can!