Things are definitely out of whack
Sep. 1st, 2005 09:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lhskarkaI have a black dog following me right now. The sort that brings with it worry, depression, sadness, and a general feeling of unpreparedness for life in general and faire in particular. The worst bit is that it's not always at my heels, instead it likes to lurk in dark corners and leap out at me at vulnerable moments. Add in the what I think must be a sort of mental shock at the reality that an entire city can still be swallowed by natural forces, and the fact that many of my friends and loved ones seem to be suffering under the same general mood, and I'm feeling like life is rather broken at the moment. In honor of said mood, this poem:
The Second Coming -- W. B. Yeats
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Not that I'm expecting the second coming or anything, but it is a rather LARGE black dog.
Oh, and I want a real bagel. Not the fakey things that Einstein Bros. claims are bagels. Because it's all about me and my stomach.
*EDIT* 2pm - Gareth has pointed out to me that the dog that follows me around most often is actually a brown and white spotty dog who only wants to put her head on my knee. *giggle*
The Second Coming -- W. B. Yeats
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Not that I'm expecting the second coming or anything, but it is a rather LARGE black dog.
Oh, and I want a real bagel. Not the fakey things that Einstein Bros. claims are bagels. Because it's all about me and my stomach.
*EDIT* 2pm - Gareth has pointed out to me that the dog that follows me around most often is actually a brown and white spotty dog who only wants to put her head on my knee. *giggle*
