Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere Anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
I love Yeats and this poem. It feels like this
speaks to the way of the world now. It has probably also
felt as real to everyone who has read it through the ages.
I love that it obvously plays on the idea of jesus
and the second coming, but it is so much more.
This poem can't really be claimed by the jesus freaks
or the pagan and godless masses.
It could be talking about serial killers or Republicans,
it could be the parallel movements of history or
it could be talking about me and my friends.