Eliot Poems - Poems about Eliot

How like Eliot it is in tone. Even the landscape has the grime of London in each line. I must have been no more than nineteen when I wrote the poem caught in the spell of his hypnotic rhythm and rhymes. The bright, clean air of my home was seen through the filter of a foreign fog, his soulful exhaustion...

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Missouri's Thomas Sterns Eliot loved the English life quite a lot* His style remained American as a very poetical craftsman...

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In the hush of April showers, Whispering secrets of rebirth and decay, I find myself lost in the labyrinth Of dampened streets and sodden souls. The rain taps softly on my windowpane, A rhythmic reminder of time's ceaseless flow, And I, a specter in this world, Drift aimlessly through the fog of existence. Each droplet a prism, refracting memories, Fragmented visions of forgotten days, Echoes...

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George Eliot, an important English Victorian Era writer, born Mary Ann Evans, she must have been quite the fighter. Supporting abolitionists and loving whomever she wanted, “Marion” went against the norms, seemingly undaunted!...

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Every night at a pub, I see her, the girl with the blond hair and blue eyes, a beauty to behold. Her gaze draws me in, and I can’t help but steal glances. If you ask me what are the eyes They were the first eyes I ever saw I can see the heavens in them, a glimpse of something beyond this world. She...

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Eliot's waste land so empty now of flowers to ...

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Thomas Stearns Eliot a poet time has not forgot Concepts in his 'Four Quartets' in stone his reputation did set...

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The first time that we saw him We were worried for his health. He was sat upon a seat nearby And talking to himself. His fingernails were broken Like his unconnected speech And he spoke of really nothing As he stared towards the beach. The next time that we saw him He was stroking a stray cat. Its paws were hid beneath its fur Right where...

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My faithful quill recumbent Motionless Stark against the virgin parchment posed upon my desk The peeping moon breaks through grimy windows Mocking me as the mantel clock chimes the cheerless Midnight Another day laid to waste The poet’s canvas unblemished Harmonizing with his imagination My eyes, cast red with weariness, avoid the empty scroll Wandering, they fall upon an oak case Lined with leather-bound treasures Names...

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I know a disloyal lady from Eliot In the beginning, she was very sweet Whatever she did or done with her She always sent me tweet One day I visited her town hotel She gave me a worst treat She was sitting with anonymous They came there for something to eat I came back to home crying My body got full of the heat I...

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here is mine in this form What tune does youth most play when future's biding ? Today ! What wisdom does age convey when time is passing ? ...

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This Age of Staggered Man Needs a timely thought The Invincible Destiny is hovering over head Why the youth is being wasted O'er things which are dead? The invisible burden over the shoulders Of this feeble 'hollow man' of Eliot Is too tremendous to tread Steadily on the Treacherous Terrain Would all the thinking go in vain? The heart of a...

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symbolism of the metaphysical self-depreciating &deep in a voice of consciousness so intense&compelling memorable lines over the passage of time pieces&moments ...

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visions of the street flickering across the sky impatient certainties notions revolve ...

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