Thursday, October 6, 2016



Today is National Poetry Day in the UK and I figure I ought to help my brother and sister poets in the UK celebrate this celebration.

Here's a poem I wrote about one of my favorite British poems by one of my favorite British poets, William Wordsworth.

Wordsworth's Sonnet “The World is Too Much with Us;
Late and Soon” in 9 Lines

The world is too much with us,
& then it isn't & we're dead or dying,
& the world just becomes the smell
of something we can't remember.

Don’t even bother listening to this.
I'm just an old pecker out of tune,
out of gas, with last year's Mac.

I've given my heart away,
and every other worthless thing.


And if you don't like that, here's the original by my brother Will Wordsworth:

The World Is Too Much With Us

Related Poem Content Details

The world is too much with us; late and soon, 
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;— 
Little we see in Nature that is ours; 
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! 
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; 
The winds that will be howling at all hours, 
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; 
For this, for everything, we are out of tune; 
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be 
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, 
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; 
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; 
Or hear old Triton blow his wreath├Ęd horn.

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