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T S Eliot by Anthea  Slade

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T S Eliot featured in Freedom to Shine on 19 April 2010


The winter evening settles down
With smell of steaks in passageways.
Six o’clock.
The burnt-out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimneypots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.
And then the lighting of the lamps.


The morning comes to consciousness
Of faint stale smells of beer
From the sawdust-trampled street
With all its muddy feet that press
To early coffee-stands.

With the other masquerades
That times resumes,
One thinks of all the hands
That are raising dingy shades
In a thousand furnished rooms.


You tossed a blanket from the bed
You lay upon your back, and waited;
You dozed, and watched the night revealing
The thousand sordid images
Of which your soul was constituted;
They flickered against the ceiling.
And when all the world came back
And the light crept up between the shutters
And you heard the sparrows in the gutters,
You had such a vision of the street
As the street hardly understands;
Sitting along the bed’s edge, where
You curled the papers from your hair,
Or clasped the yellow soles of feet
In the palms of both soiled hands.


His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.

I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.

Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.

By T S Eliot


anthea slade, favourite, poet, portrait, preludes, t s eliot

Creating art and writing is like breathing to me, it keeps me alive. If I stop creating my world shrinks and contracts. When I start to create again it expands and is filled with colour. I feel whole. To create is to be completely, unabashedly alive.

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  • Roz McQuillan
    Roz McQuillanalmost 7 years ago

    Strong image, Anthea!

  • Paul Louis Villani
    Paul Louis Vil...almost 7 years ago

    Wow, I love this, so powerful and abstract, yet so beautiful too! :D

  • Anthea  Slade
    Anthea Sladealmost 7 years ago

    Thanks Paul and Roz for your fine feedback. T.S. Elliot is on of my favourite poets.

  • Kaitlin Beckett
    Kaitlin Beckettalmost 7 years ago


  • Anthea  Slade
    Anthea Sladealmost 7 years ago

    Thank you firedrake.

  • alykat
    alykatover 6 years ago

    great style

  • GerryMac
    GerryMacover 6 years ago

    amazing work!

  • I am glad you like my T.S. Elliot. Thank you for comment.

    – Anthea Slade

  • Roger Sampson
    Roger Sampsonover 4 years ago

    Think Elliot would have loved it… I know I do :)


  • Thank you so much Roger for this wonderful comment. T S Eliot was my favourite poet when I was a young woman and I still love his work today :)

    – Anthea Slade

  • Roger Sampson
    Roger Sampsonover 4 years ago

  • Roger thank you so very much for featuring my painting of T.S. Eliot in your wonderful group Freedom to Shine on the 19 April 2010.

    – Anthea Slade

  • RaOrEmraeh
    RaOrEmraehover 4 years ago

    WOW this is AMAZING!

  • Thank you so much Cassidy for lovely comment and favourite :)

    – Anthea Slade

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