T. S. Eliot
Embedded in the rhetoric of distant bells 
Chiming for the early morning smells
Perfuming the aura, like its own bright ring,
Lingering at the edge of the sting.
Others watch on with their poisoned lips,
Sticky with licks and filthier quips,
They edge towards the precipice lyrically.
Observe their resulting mimicry.
Report it with scratching imagery
And mirrored symmetry.
Then throw open the doors to the filthy street
Lit by the beat
That will never retreat
And feel the fire's colourful heat
Burning with the fury of colourful eyes
Without disguise.
The rules split by skin's deeper tone
That are broken deeper by muscles on bone
That broker our carriage
And the leper's that savage
The single entities within,
Conceived via the original sin.

T. S. Eliot, American-born British poet, writer and critic, was born today in 1888.

Paul Newman, American actor, director, producer, race car driver, entrepreneur and philanthropist, died on this day in 2008.


Infosec guy by day, Poet by night!

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