Post photo: pair of eyes | © Pixabay
Besides The Waste Land , a 1922 poem, 1925's The Hollow Men is arguably TS Eliot. s most famous poem, whose statement that the present world is only the other realm of death should make everyone sit up and take notice.
If you enjoy the poem "The Hollow Men" below, please also read the poem "The Waste Land" linked above, which begins: "APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain."
The Hollow Men
Mistah Kurtz - he dead
A penny for the old guyI
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our voices dried, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningful
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellarShape without form, shade without color,
Paralyzed force, gesture without motion;Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other kingdom
Remember us - if at all - not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.Let me be no closer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wearSearch for deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
Print a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No closer –Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdomIII
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.Is it like this?
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdomsIn this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid riverSightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The only hope
Of empty men.V
Here we go round the prickly pear
prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.Between the ideas
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
If the Shadow
For Thine is the KingdomBetween the conception
And the creation
Between the emotions
And the response
If the Shadow
Life is very longBetween the desires
And the spam
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
If the Shadow
For Thine is the KingdomFor Thine is
Life is
For Thine is theThis is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.