{"id":56577,"date":"2019-06-23T05:04:21","date_gmt":"2019-06-23T09:04:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=56577"},"modified":"2019-06-23T05:04:21","modified_gmt":"2019-06-23T09:04:21","slug":"night-flight-credit-t-s-eliot-poem-the-love-song-of-j-alfred-prufrock","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2019\/06\/night-flight-credit-t-s-eliot-poem-the-love-song-of-j-alfred-prufrock\/","title":{"rendered":"Night Flight -credit T.S. Eliot poem The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"},"content":{"rendered":"

With great abandon, here go I,<\/span><\/p>\n

with wings a-beating in the sky<\/span><\/p>\n

I crafted them upon my table;<\/span><\/p>\n

now drying them in windy streets,<\/span><\/p>\n

when laughed at, my visage here retreats<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sometimes find me in hotels<\/span><\/p>\n

after collecting stones and shells:<\/span><\/p>\n

till erupts an argument<\/span><\/p>\n

twas not my original intent<\/span><\/p>\n

When then they ask a vague question …<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I respond, you must go visit<\/span><\/p>\n

and when you finally actually go<\/span><\/p>\n

you\u2019ll hear me think \u2018bout Michelangelo.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Within the oil stained window-panes,<\/span><\/p>\n

inventions brew, and so do pains,<\/span><\/p>\n

I work until the late evening,<\/span><\/p>\n

making things that look like drains,<\/span><\/p>\n

as smoke puffs from warm chimneys,<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Now testing, I take a fearless leap,<\/span><\/p>\n

and deep, I fly into the night,<\/span><\/p>\n

while all my friends are fast asleep.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Then quickly, not heeding time<\/span><\/p>\n

over the mountain, past the street,<\/span><\/p>\n

reflecting wings on window-panes;<\/span><\/p>\n

there will be time, there will be time<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

to prepare a flight to faces meet;<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And then more wings I will create,<\/span><\/p>\n

for all the other idle hands<\/span><\/p>\n

who love adventure on their plate;<\/span><\/p>\n

but then will be no time for me,<\/span><\/p>\n

with feathers plucked and indecisions,<\/span><\/p>\n

and for a hundred visions and revisions<\/em>,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

till I can rest with morning tea.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Till then will people come and go<\/span><\/p>\n

Talking of Michelangelo.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And then soon will come a time<\/span><\/p>\n

to dream, to even dare?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

time to appear upon the stair,<\/span><\/p>\n

and with a flutter of my hair \u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

but now the air is growing thin!<\/span><\/p>\n

my harness cradling waist and chin,<\/span><\/p>\n

if I left out a single pin<\/span><\/p>\n

my wings they do look awfully thin!<\/span><\/p>\n

Do I dare\u00a0<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

Disturb the universe<\/em>?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I do this all the time<\/span><\/p>\n

make snap revisions which a second shall reverse.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And now go feathers one and all:<\/span><\/p>\n

not in evening but afternoon,<\/span><\/p>\n

I have created new wings with spoons;<\/span><\/p>\n

I hear the screams as I fall<\/span><\/p>\n

as if already they see the emergency room.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What do they presume?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Those eyes who witnessed my fall all\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

mutter a horrifying phrase,<\/span><\/p>\n

then when I feel as needles and pins,<\/span><\/p>\n

I view that hole of light in wall,<\/span><\/p>\n

this is how shall my end begin<\/span><\/p>\n

in heaven with its winged ways?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And what do they presume?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

-Sandra Johnson, 6\/23\/19<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

With great abandon, here go I, with wings a-beating in the sky I crafted them upon my table; now drying them in windy streets, when laughed at, my visage here retreats   Sometimes find me in hotels after collecting stones and shells: till erupts an…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1299,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-56577","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56577","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1299"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=56577"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56577\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":56639,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56577\/revisions\/56639"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=56577"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=56577"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=56577"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}