I turn again to T.S. Eliot for my “fan” poetry

NaPoWriMo.net – opposite poem

T.S.Eliot – Waste Land, What the Thunder Said

Before the cold luster of their masks
Before the hot clamour outside the house
Before the ecstasy of lurid lakes
The silence and the smiles
Open spaces, dungeons and stillness
of the hush of autumn below the nearby sea
Those that were dead are still living
You who were dying are yet living
Without any haste

There is no air there, but only sand
Sand and no air, and the rocky block
The block directly crossing the sea
Which is a sea of sand without air
If here is air, you could go on and spit
Within the sand, you cannot go on and spit
Stone is moist and head is in the clouds
If only air was around the sand
Living sea end of shiny nails which can but drink
There you can only sit, or run or stand
Here is only clamour in the sea
And moist fruitful hush with draught
Here are only crowds in the sea
And white happy feet tiptoe and run
To windows of state-of-the-art palaces
                                   We don’t wish for air
But for sand
We wish for sand
But no air
No air
A breeze
A gust over the sand
We wish not the silence of the air alone
Only the worm
Not the moist gravel grunting
Not the silence of air inside sand
Not like the place the eagle sleeps over the rocky peaks
Snore sneer snore sneer sneer sneer sneer
And all around is air.

© 2012 Mariya Koleva