A nice poem by W.B. Yeatts...

70Chip
05-22-2007, 01:34 AM
...The Second Coming

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 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?

Any thoughts?

Redskins8588
05-22-2007, 01:38 AM
Yeah, Tony is gonna get offed by Phil Leotardo...

djnemo65
05-22-2007, 01:52 AM
My favorite poem by my favorite poet. It takes my breath away every time I read it.

Oakland Red
05-24-2007, 03:15 AM
Speaking of the Second Coming.....

Share International on the Reappearence of Maitreya the World Teacher (http://www.share-international.org)

Share International says it is in the process of happening. I believe it.

Crazyhorse1
05-29-2007, 01:03 AM
...The Second Coming

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 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?

Any thoughts?

Great poem that I love. Unfortunately, it now makes me think of Bush. Ignorant, murderous, lying, phony, power- grabbing, torturing, nightmare savior slouching toward World War III and a nuclear holocaust.

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