My version of “The Hollow Men” TS
We are the empty souls
Filled with nothing-ness
Herded together
Their minds filled with dirt. Indeed!
Dusty throats, still breathe
Whispering herd
Inaudible and devoid
As dust upon mantle
Or ashes below coals
There is structure with no substance, hue with no
depth
Frozen motion, movement with no progress
The Ones who have passed
Their eyes set on Hell
Not remembered as the unrighteous
Sinful men, simply
As the empty souls
Full of nothing-ness
Not to even dream of these Hell-men
In their fateful fire-land
But it isn’t those we see
In my dreams they look
To Sunlight on the broken past
The bird sings in the tree
And the voices sing
And float through air
Far away and so serious
As a sentinel
Don’t bring me closer
In this dreamy slumber
And hide with deliberation
Like a rat, a raven or a scarecrow
At harvest
Acting as the breeze acts
No closer
Don’t bring me closer
To the fire-land
This is the fire-land
Repeatedly burned
By the groping flames
They grower higher, are welcomed
Of a dead man’s hand
Under this dying sun
Is heaven like this?
In the chosen land
Alone walking
In times of need
When we feel love
But could not kiss
Our prayers without answer
In this last place we meet
We grip to each other
And do not speak
By the swollen river we wait
Still blind
Less grace is given
As forever-life
And Dante’s Rose
For the righteous
That empty souls
Only long for
Ring
around the rosy
A
pocket full of posies
Ashes,
Ashes,
We
all fall DOWN!
Not the idea or the reality
Not the motion or the act
They appear in grey
Between the generation
And the harvest
Between the fear
And the response
They appear in grey
There is wanting,
And outbursts
Between the strength
And the being
Between the very thing
And its demise
They appear in grey
God is the way
God is
He is
It will go quietly
The world, not end
With a bang.
-Rachael Haines
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