Archive for the ‘TS Eliot’ Category

12/26/2006

More poetry about headless torsos

Inspired by Magdalena Abakanowicz’s “Agora,” newly unveiled in Chicago, we reminded you of TS Eliot’s, “We are the hollow men …

Now we post some
Carl Sandburg.
Born in Sandburg Village in 1878… That’s not true; but he did write these lines, about another headless sculpture ….

” And you left off the head here,
The skull found always crumbling neighbor of the ankles.”

Number 11 of Sandburg’s “Chicago Poems.”

We write much more on Agora here.

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12/26/2006

More poetry about headless torsos

Inspired by Magdalena Abakanowicz’s “Agora,” newly unveiled in Chicago, we reminded you of TS Eliot’s, “We are the hollow men …

Now we post some
Carl Sandburg.
Born in Sandburg Village in 1878… That’s not true; but he did write these lines, about another headless sculpture ….

” And you left off the head here,
The skull found always crumbling neighbor of the ankles.”

Number 11 of Sandburg’s “Chicago Poems.”

We write much more on Agora here.

12/26/2006

More poetry about headless torsos

Inspired by Magdalena Abakanowicz’s “Agora,” newly unveiled in Chicago, we reminded you of TS Eliot’s, “We are the hollow men …

Now we post some
Carl Sandburg.
Born in Sandburg Village in 1878… That’s not true; but he did write these lines, about another headless sculpture ….

” And you left off the head here,
The skull found always crumbling neighbor of the ankles.”

Number 11 of Sandburg’s “Chicago Poems.”

We write much more on Agora here.

12/05/2006

Abakanowicz, Agora and ……… T.S. Eliot

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

read the poem here.

And a lot more about Agora, here.

12/05/2006

Abakanowicz, Agora and ……… T.S. Eliot

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

read the poem here.

And a lot more about Agora, here.

12/05/2006

Abakanowicz, Agora and ……… T.S. Eliot

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

read the poem here.

And a lot more about Agora, here.