Eliot Poems

Flared Pants, Mini Skirts and Mr 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

CLERIHEW eliot

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

April Showers

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

George Eliot

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!

She Is a Poem of Eliot

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

Emagi T S Eliot

[1]  [2]  [3]  [4]

Imagist Mvp Eliot

Eliot's
waste
                 land
                  so
empty
now of
flowers

                to
  

Clerihew Eliot

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

Wasted

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
whose paws were hid beneath its fur
right where

To Be Like Eliot

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

A Disloyal Eliot

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

My Choice Eliot Epigram

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 ?
 

Age of Staggered Man

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

Transitions a T S Eliot Tribute

symbolism
   of the metaphysical
self-depreciating
                     &deep
in a voice
of consciousness
so
intense&compelling

memorable    
           lines
over
    the passage
    of time
pieces&moments

Yesterday Dreams Eliot Tribute

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

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