Genuine Poetry can Communicate before it is Understood -T. S. Eliot

The finest of all the senses is the feeling to reach out… to pronounce the hurt lurking deep down or to share that ‘jocund ‘ memory so that your ‘thing of beauty‘ could transgress the time and space and become ‘joy forever

Yeats has stayed with me in good times and bad. These lines I am quoting down here, caught my notice while we did Yeats with Kaleem-ur-Rehman at University of Karachi. For this long a time , just revisiting these so simply worded strings of professed love, fills me with inspiration to treat this life of mine as a celebrity. I don’t see a particular reason in it , but then ‘Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason‘. What do you think?

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths

William Butler Yeats

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.


Because Death Couldn’t Stop for Me

Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then ’tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.


About Mrs. Nazir's Rhyme and Reason

Am I a bird for Maya Angelou? If yes, why do I and so many of you around me feel caged? why not free? Am I a free spirit, then?If yes, then why don't I locate my limits? Because I can see I have lost the way. The quest for enlightenment is taking me acknowledge just Him ..and this strife just becomes so rewarding and so assuringly peaceful when I see myself having adopted His favourite occupation- the one he designated to his prophets. What has obstructed this self -actualization so far?
Gallery | This entry was posted in Best from Poetry:The truest poetry is the most feigning and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Genuine Poetry can Communicate before it is Understood -T. S. Eliot

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s