Thus I Wrote

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The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock….(Abridged)

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Do I Dare

Let us go then you and I
With the evening spread out against the sky
Let us go, through the certain half deserted streets
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster shells
Oh do not ask “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo

There will be time, there will be time
Beyond the fog that slides along the street
To prepare a face for the faces that we meet
Time for you and time for me
Before the taking of toast and tea
For a hundred indecisions
For a hundred visions and revisions

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo

Time to wonder:”Do I dare?” and “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair
Do I dare, disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

Because I have known them already, known them all
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons
Heard their voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas

Would it have been worth it, after all
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me
Would it have been worth while?
To have bitten off the matter with a smile
To say: ” I am Lazarus, come from the dead”
If one, settling a pillow by her head
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all,
That is not it at all.”

I grow old…I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us and we drown.

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Written by thus.i.wrote

January 21, 2015 at 12:08 pm

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