Thanatos : Much talk. Talking will win you nothing. All the same, the woman goes with me to Hades' house. I go to take her now, and dedicate her with my sword, for all whose hair is cut in consecration by this blade's edge are devoted to the gods below. (Euripides, Alcestis 19 ff, trans. Vellacott, Greek tragedy C5th B.C.)
Offhand, I have heard
the scattering of seed produced
mortal soldiers,
another cosmetic
between chimney sweeps;
small boys with tall hats
and smudged faces
were one awake to the movement of bodies
from the cellar to the queen’s bodice
a thousand tongues trilling.
They laid that old man well.
Rose in his cheeks,
the stench of flowers,
An Investiture. Skinny old Maids
playing cards in the parlor
the pinched faces
ill-designed to mask the bitterness.
The rustle of silk on old bone,
the rattle of a tea cup
nervously replaced,
an open window
a distant dog
children at play--
"open your poem,"
says the soothsayer
brandishing a knife,
"I will show you a color
that you may carry home
singing of your deeds."
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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I have to admit you are simply too smart for me. I end up having to look up something from almost every poem you post. My sad attempt at self-education.
The scattering of seed and mortal soldiers heh? I suppose that is all we are; a war inside ourselves.
Where are the quotes in the last stanza from?
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This is a very good poem. And it is a Poem.
I'm starting to adjust to its cadence now. -
How you manage to pack so much in so few words is really one the highlights of your poetic prowess. Mmmmm. I find myself, lately, reluctant to assign things (meaning, themes) to your symbols until I've let the poem really sink in. You know I've been reading it and reading it.
I think I'll do a stanza by stanza thing because I wish to, open this poem with a knife and lay it out -- read it, like reading bones or apple seeds as some cultures did. I know what it will do though, it will shift and fade and change itself. But I'm going to give it a try anyway.
There are parts of the structure of this I don't like. Stifling or awkward a bit here and there but I know you and know that it is that way for a reason.
Definitely good. But not Commercial. Sorry.
xo
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When I read this ...
I cannot help to wonder when blindness will turn to sight. -
I went to my last Tenebrae Good Friday, 1999. I remember because it was the Easter before I moved to Pa. I took my daughter and her cousin who was Jewish (we're a very diverse family ya know) and we sat in the back pew and I remember at the end, the lights went out and we heard the loud closing of a tomb. Then we lit our candles and walked out of the church in silence. My niece, who was 12 at the time said, "well that was creepy." I agreed and never attended another. Six years later she converted to Catholicism. Not sure if the Tenebrae or I had anything to do with that but I like to think it did.
Desiree
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Just bleeds red on this page regardless of mortal souls, the ones lost and the ones saved still bleed the same.
C
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I was listening to Syd Barret while reading this
and it crossed my mind you forgot to add a gigolo aunt
to describe a kitsch salad in all its splendor
I like rose in his cheeks the stench of flowers
it can pass as a definition for cosmetics i think
or aesthetics at least
all soldiers are mortal
that's why and what it writes on their grave
unknown
they carry a big bronze monochrome flag though
good poem
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