Thus I Wrote

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Posts Tagged ‘W.B. Yeats

The Centre can’t Hold

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Things Fall Apart

The giant heavy wheel turns slowly
And I smell fear in the air
And many must make decisions
With no sage to guide them there

The cycle of birth and growth
Is relentless, ruthless and blind
Evolution asks many questions
I can’t answer in my small mind

They’re complacent and blind to change
They pushed too hard and too fast
They allowed the weeds to grow
And now they choke the flowers at last

It’s 100 years, that’s a century
Since the world fell apart
There’s a feeling of something similar
And there’s a feeling of a start

Change is in the nature of things
I cannot control how things unfold
I feel things fall apart again
I feel the centre can’t hold

Written by thus.i.wrote

June 2, 2016 at 10:16 am

Things Fall Apart

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Things Fall Apart

I feel insecure about many dark things
That I cannot understand or behold
I sense the wheel spin out of control
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold;

I hold from slipping into darkness
I pray for security within the fold
But I feel the balance slipping
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold

The falcon now looks lost
In the storm clouds and the cold
Will ignorant intensity trump conviction?
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold

I think much of the future
I think much of fruits that are old
The wheel spins to screaming
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold

For the needs of the many
The needs of the few are sold
Within blind evolution I seek control
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold

But when everything is slipping
And in the storm I am wet and cold
I remember sometimes things fall apart
So better things may fall together and hold

Written by thus.i.wrote

April 10, 2016 at 10:43 am

A Terrible Beauty

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The-Wind-That-Shakes-the-Barley B&W.jpg

Seen the cross in the graveyard
Saying this dreaming now must end
It’s time to end the oppression
Into which they’ve been condemned
I travelled to Kilmainham
Where martyrs died forlorn
All changed, changed utterly
A terrible beauty was born

Now the wind it shakes the barley
I saw them at end of the day
They were drinking in dark, smoke-filled pubs
They were arguing and having their say
But brother then shot brother
And families were wrenched and torn
All changed, changed utterly
A terrible beauty was born

I heard the skylark singing
As smoke rose from the incense
And the clouds above the barren church
Were his only audience
I saw that young nation
Was still in old monochrome
But the world was now in colour
Telling many to leave home

In exile I watched Riverdance
They played rugby with style
In the air they built up confidence
On the earth new country miles
On the edge of a European Union
They were the Celtic Tiger grown
All changed, changed utterly
From that terrible beauty born

No longer saints, no longer scholars
But I still see Celtic ghosts somehow
When the crash came, they fell so hard
They recover, as others allow
In this new world, they’re now free
But with chains, of a different form
United Nations, changed utterly
From a terrible beauty born