By degrees, he shifts his weight and settles to the side
He lifts his foot and makes his step into a settled stride
He bounces, faintly brimming with the power that’s inside
Every moment,
He lifts his foot and makes his step into a settled stride
He bounces, faintly brimming with the power that’s inside
Every moment,
time plus time beginning to elide
And glancing at the clock he sees the hour growing wide
Nothing, not the going nor arriving
can decide
To stop him from the journey that is blowing him aglide
Not the innocence unknowing, nor the ignorance of pride
In earnest, not the most dishonest feeling can provide
But with his face determined and yet buckled to his will
He marches on towards yesterday; he lies
completely still
The Replanted Writer 
Tis a poem of greatness
Quietly read in utter bliss
In passing thought I share a comment
In the tune of what others usually to me lament
“This should be a song with music!”
š
hehe, best comment ever. and yes, many of the lyrics I write are reharvested poems. well-done sir.
the only problem is that people want choruses š
Only the hymn lovers want choruses. Just give me a refrain (would that be considered a “refraining order”? Just wondering)…..
interesting – makes me think š
btw, speaking of poetry and music, check this out!
http://soundcloud.com/axelthesleff/sets/the-waste-land-1/