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My Attempt at a T.S. Eliot-Styled Poem (Written in 2014)

T.S. Eliot's poetry style is marked by an innovative use of language, symbolism, and structure, often blending traditional poetic forms with modernist experimentation. His poems are characterized by fragmented narratives, allusions to literary and religious texts, and a keen attention to rhythm and meter. From a thematic perspective, Eliot's work delves into the complexities of modern life, exploring themes of alienation, spiritual crisis, and the disintegration of societal and personal values. He often grapples with the tension between tradition and modernity, reflecting on the decay of cultural norms and the search for meaning in a fragmented world. Through his poetry, Eliot presents a 'shocking' examination of human existence, offering insights into the struggles and existential dilemmas of the individual in the modern age.


An excerpt from Eliot's famous poem "The Wasteland."

April is the cruellest month,

breeding Lilacs out of the dead land,

mixing Memory and desire,

stirring Dull roots with spring rain.

Winter kept us warm,

covering Earth in forgetful snow,

feeding A little life with dried tubers.

 


 

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 of voices long silenced, Lost in the cacophony of modern life. In this dampened urban landscape, Where the city streets gleam with melancholy, I search for meaning amidst the shadows, Tracing the footsteps of ghosts. Their words linger in the misty air, A haunting melody of despair and hope, Guiding me through the darkened alleys, Towards a fleeting glimpse of understanding. And as the April showers fade into memory, Leaving behind traces of renewal and decay, I find solace in the beauty of the rain, And in the echoes of a name.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Date: 4/2/2024 4:41:00 PM
you had me at "T.S.Eliot" I was attracted to his poems while in college and still maintain a high level of interest and respect in his work. I can see the parallels in his words and yours...yours were masterfully created with a hint of nostalgic and melancholic reflection. I especially liked: 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. I say it again...love your poetic style!
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Don Iannone
Date: 4/2/2024 4:57:00 PM
Sara, Thank you for seeing the connection. We are fortunate to have read and absorbed the intricacies of the masters. That explains my tribute to Eliot, a poet beyond explanation. And so, to the melancholy and the delights of our future! Appreciatally, Sargent Pepper
Date: 4/2/2024 8:56:00 AM
Hello Don, a captivating exploration of introspection and nostalgia, beautifully blended together imagery of rain-soaked streets with profound reflections on the passage of time. I loved how your words evoke a sense of longing and contemplation. Don, through the gentle patter of raindrops, you capture the essence of life's complexities and the enduring search for meaning. - Blessings, Daniel
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Don Iannone
Date: 4/2/2024 10:01:00 AM
Daniel, Your insightful and kind comments are much appreciated. This is an older poem—2014. I get interested in poets. T.S.Eliot was a maverick, in his time and even today. He reminds us to experiment with our poetry. Thanks again. Blessings in return, Don

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