Grammar- Commonly Misused

Source: Grammar- Commonly Misused

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I saw your soul in your transparent face.

The sparrows sing as if to draw me to
The present moment’s gravity and grace
Our contemplation of life’s nature new

What  other attitude is worthwhile now
That I no longer see your loving face?
The sparrows sing as if to greet me too

Eden is still here, we miss the clues
We miss the  ardent touch,  the lost embrace
Our contemplation of the world renews

On my face, the tears are jeweled dew
In my body, I feel well enclosed
The sparrows sing as if to greet me too

Now the blackbird sings as if on cue
Inside my swollen heart, I feel its grace
Contemplation of  life’s nature new

I saw your soul in your transparent face.
And crisscrossed lines from struggle left their trace
The sparrows sing as if to draw us to
The contemplation of the  wildness true,

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Love itself

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Unless there is a space where we can doubt

Fashion plays with symbols unconcealed
The trench coat, Breton sweater, leather boots.
But sometimes “fantasy” is too near ” real”

We cannot play nor allow art to reveal
Unless there is a space where we can doubt
Fashion plays with symbols unconcealed

We must not  just with  demons do a deal
For we also need the angels who’re about.
Nowadays , our “fantasies” blur ” real”

 

The biker jacket’s modish in appeal.
The leather  has its Fascistic  clout
Fashion plays with symbols unconcealed

If we cannot waken, dreams will  fool,
As on our monstrous war horses, we mount
I feel it now : our “fantasies” blur ” real”

 

We never can have everything we want
So we learn that other peoples count
Fashion plays with symbols unconcealed
But fantasising may lay waste to all

l

 

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Which of us desires to dress for war?

My polyester trench coat  looks real swell
But inside it, I feel as hot as hell.
And when the storm hit, I found out
It is no raincoat, I have no more doubts.

Which of us desires to dress for war
This is what the trench coat was made for.
British soldiers  on the battlefields
Died in mud locked trenches for what yield?

Do we want to know the Middle East
Was divided by the conquerors at their feast
France and Britain split the old Empire
We see from that the rise of Herr Hitler.

The war to end all wars is on stage yet.
Go hang these trench coats  round the scapegoat’s neck

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On war by Ezra Pound

https://ticer-swim.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/war

 

E.P. ODE POUR L’ELECTION DE SON SEPULCHRE (1920) Ezra Pound

II

The age demanded an image
Of its accelerated grimace,
Something for the modern stage,
Not, at any rate, an Attic grace;

Not, not certainly, the obscure reveries
Of the inward gaze;
Better mendacities
Than the classics in paraphrase!

The “age demanded” chiefly a mould in plaster,
Made with no loss of time,
A prose kinema, not, not assuredly, alabaster
Or the “sculpture” of rhyme.

Ezra Pound in 1913
IV
These fought in any case,
and some believing,
pro domo, in any case. . .
Some quick to arm,
some for adventure,
some from fear of weakness,
some from fear of censure,
some for love of slaughter, in imagination,
learning later . . .
some in fear, learning love of slaughter;

Died some, pro patria,
non “dulce” non “et decor”. . .
walked eye-deep in hell
believing in old men’s lies, then unbelieving
came home, home to a lie,
home to many deceits,
home to old and new infamy;
usury age-old and age-thick
and liars in public places.

Daring as never before, wastage as never before.
Young blood and high blood,
fair cheeks, and fine bodies;

fortitude as never before

frankness as never before,
disillusions as never told in the days,
hysterias, trench confessions,
laughter out of dead bellies.
V
There died a myriad,
and of the best, among them,
For an old bitch gone in the teeth,
For a botched civilization,

Charm, smiling at the good mouth,
Quick eyes gone under earth’s lid,

For two gross of broken statues,
For a few thousand battered book

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