Beauty, Afflictus (for Shannon)
Posted: September 28th, 2006, 12:14 am
Beauty, Afflictus
(for Shannon)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If someone were to fall into intimate slumber, sleep of the golden eyes, sleep of the murmuring grey fields, & slept deeply with Things, shiny pinkcheeked Things, Things of whisper & wet, Things both the cup & its holder, Things elusive like worthy
cathedrals, how easily he would come to a different day, a longer day, a day that will not melt with the passing hours, how easily he would come to a different day, out of mutual depth, how deeply eternity badges us, out of mutual depth, twining spasms of
remembrance, chilling glints of smiling mystery, out of mutual depth, have we yet begun, Beauty, refracted, defined, slept into, seduced sacredly, seduced musically, Beauty, obscura, today is never going to end, courtyard of twisting breezes, out of mutual depth, love is a mean, chanting, obssessed motherfucker & you are his favorite song.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
i.
Eternal She, embedded, in brickface, in snow
Eternal She, before me now, this sleepless dream
The great beast Mortality chained & humming
without my window, offering a whole
panoramic library of lies
Eternal She, will you see with me through
this beast, past invisibility, past its flake & fall?
The courtyard is empty, the crowd is dancing,
the band rocks on.
Eternal She, who loved me in some
secret year, full moon & beloved pine,
I would bind & kill her, she not confessed,
she still waiting for the strength that
finally embodies the promise it portends.
Saddle the horses, gather the blades
prayers are becoming dangerous again.
Eternal She, younger now than ever,
cleanse something bitter, raw & silent,
Eternal She, knowing desire again,
its biting tireless music, blood everywhere,
spend it all—
ii.
Beauty Crowds me til I die
Beauty Crowns me til I cry
Beauty mercy have on me
Beauty, marry me, marry me, marry me
But if I expire today, nameless to the last
Let it be in sight of thee
Let me disintegrate into thee
Transcend me from within, Art,
I want to be your laughing sunshine supernova.
iii.
Certain & I was your suitor
the lover of your pending garden
Momentous moment, a younger day
I saw you set ordinary air ablaze
I saw you smile at me, liquid, vanishing point
I saw you negate what I had been,
agree to forget, agree that
today was the only day & from
your womb, Beauty, I was crawling
& would here-ever-on.
I kept passing through you more slowly
til I no longer came or went
til there were no calendars, only you
til the moon, I knew, was there for you
til all that had ever been grew from you
I kept pausing before you
til pause was all there was
til I was only a young weed
on your inevitable wall
Thentime, before you transfigured into
Merry Muse I sought your nascent
likeness in the varieties of flesh,
ironic, sincere, detached, forlorn,
embodied, embraced, exhaled, inhaled,
emptied out, exited, errors, I know.
Sought I to embrace you, then near
you, then mirror. I did not know.
I do not know. Your absence
fills me, maneuvers me, verifies &
falsifies me
Please stop.
I’m too happy already.
iv.
Dancing maiden, ringing colors, vision immolating, the day uncontained by its capitals & its periods. Dancing maiden, the chanting, scorching drums troubling & pleasing you. Dancing maiden, i see you in every bar i stumble, every tree i love, every time i choose between living & dying, every time I agree to the fatty comforts of despair, the bigbellied scriptures of capitulation, last night was the last night, no more last nights left among my dreams, just fascist soft-voiced afternoons, just hosery & something adjusted too tightly. Reinvent me, dancing maiden, there is no I in me anymore. There is only a set of bored muscles, a mind left over from the ragged part of youth. Reinvent me, make me thy mate, thy servant, thy listener from afar, dancing maiden I can hear you better as you transcend me from within.
v.
Pretty, profound, pretty, profound—
i long for everything.
Art is the answer to this world.
Art is the most expensive answer in this world.
Art, drunk on pens, staggers pretty on.
Art, high on colors, floats profound away.
I saw you in a musem, once,
gave you my first bouquet of flames.
Pretty, profound, pretty, profound—
i’ll keep lapping. you keep breathing hard.
Art, my raggamuffin with furry boots &
a happy yellow purse
Art, the most regal dream—
keep breathing. inhale. exhale. harder.
I saw you in a museum, again,
but, no, here’s an empty room of rhythm,
a joint passed with a sisterly smile—
Pretty, profound, pretty, profound—
in bus stations, in desperate hours, you are love. You are
everywhere.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
in a large room, between cathedrals & haystacks, more summer than winter here, i guess, and children playing on carnival-bright days
a large canvas in a large room, a forest of a room, within the night’s shyness, beneath the night’s secret full moon, songs for wastrels & wizards, large canvas, dancing with her, her skin softer than a fancy, dressed in pink & scarlet, dressed for the courting of wastrels & wizards
(read this in a dictionary of evanescence & apocalypse)
She becomes bone-liquid, ecstacy between the beats, her release less rifle than starlight. Mesmerism.
crawl for me, Beauty, that canvas never contained you! this large room in ruins, crawl for me, Beauty! Your wastrel. Your wizard.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
vi.
We dance in the courtyard of
wind & ice. We tremble music.
Come on, Desire! Where are you from?
At low moments in my life I
had two choices—sex or philosophy.
We dance in a tangle of exhaust.
A black sheet covers our confusion.
Come on, Desire! You can’t hold that note forever!
At low moments in my life I looked
around for my answers.
We become nameless finally. Our dance
has taught us this. Desire erupts
with continuous gladness.
At low moments in my life
I believed that truth had a
tag, a list, a dwelling.
Truth is her smile studied from
across a wooden room.
vii.
Tonight I need a friend. Or something.
Tonight’s too easy. There has to be more.
Tonight I am alone. Only art will help.
Tonight I’m no longer weak. Lights. Ringing.
Tonight’s too hard. A bleak woman in pain.
Tonight I’m sure at last what I want.
Tonight I live on despite it all.
Tonight Merry Muse floats, glitters, nearby.
Kicks back her drink. Looking at me. Nodding.
She will wait.
Tonight is for burying old poems.
Tonight, nude, Merry Muse, she says: "what now?"
Tonight, brand new fall. Tonight, brand new resurrection.
Tonight Merry Muse will catch every last drop.
Tonight she’ll consider me ever-more-slowly.
viii.
There was a moment, once, back then,
it must have been several,
I pressed her shoulders hoping
for more than yield.
Quickly, in the scattered light, I told her
of my dream, a reunion with unknown
souls from my youth, a fractured celebration
of memory, something we have, something we lose.
Something we have. Something we lose.
The dream continued. Someone was missing
from the past, I explained, the full moon
judging this empty bed confession, this messy
coalescence.
Someone is still missing. Dreams & daylight
both tell me so. I pressed her shoulders,
once, back then, hoping, but all she could
offer me was yield. Something we have.
Something we lose. I long for everything.
This messy coalescence.
ix.
You who hasn’t yet arrived, I no longer expect
you. I know you are coming.
You are lost in dreamless daylight. You wait
for the pretty rubble of twilight to begin.
I don’t know what songs will please you.
I’ll sing them all for you. You’ll recognize
the right one. It will flutter dangerously.
It will remind you of me as I sing it.
A song of absence.
We’ll walk together in the twilight rubble,
the rising tide of night swelling
our hearts.
You’ll have my song. It will remind you
of me when I sing it.
From you I’ll want the touch of skin soft
as a fancy. From you I’ll demand
a midnight vow. To your lightness I will
cling til we float, til we fall.
You’ll teach me the right name for this world.
Godd. Desire. Art. Death. Art.
I’ll know. Floating. Falling, I’ll know.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Is Beauty an affliction? The clock ticks, slave to invisible cycles. Trees in ancient cemeteries mingle with displaced spirits. The moon above is full, even tonight. Every night.
Beauty an affliction? If so, then what choice? There’s rubble to be read. The wastrel wakes the wizard, together they make songs & bake vows.
Is Beauty an affliction? The more intimate slumber is coming, sleep of the golden eyes. Longer days, vaster celebration. Aging every day, in the dawn’s new light.
Beauty is an affliction. Watching the dancing maiden, calling her Art, Desire, Godd. Pinkcheeked spirituality. Too late now to believe anything else. Afflicted. Wind & ice shrill with the night’s diminishing frenzy.
Beauty, affliction. The maiden uncontained on the canvas. The maiden lost in a dreamless daylight world. One is Beauty. One is affliction. My song will teach them about each other. Twilight & midnight. Answered prayer.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
x.
Coming, soon, the morning, I am
crowded from my bed, my chamber
filling with displaced spirits I know
but did not contrive.
There’s a picture on my wall, a dancing
maiden & her beau, & I have covered
them both with songs, with fancies,
with adoration.
Desire. Art. Godd. Maybe Love too. Maybe
Death, when I am ready. For now,
a worthy cathedral. For now, intimation.
For now, stark challenge.
I long for everything.
I’ve let nothing go.
The dawn will be different, today, new,
like it is every day.
The moon will evanesce. Rubble’s just dirt.
Dreams are deserts where everything
shines but nothing lives.
Maybe? No. The spirits crowd me. I begin to float.
February 28, 1999
Malden, Massachusetts
(for Shannon)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If someone were to fall into intimate slumber, sleep of the golden eyes, sleep of the murmuring grey fields, & slept deeply with Things, shiny pinkcheeked Things, Things of whisper & wet, Things both the cup & its holder, Things elusive like worthy
cathedrals, how easily he would come to a different day, a longer day, a day that will not melt with the passing hours, how easily he would come to a different day, out of mutual depth, how deeply eternity badges us, out of mutual depth, twining spasms of
remembrance, chilling glints of smiling mystery, out of mutual depth, have we yet begun, Beauty, refracted, defined, slept into, seduced sacredly, seduced musically, Beauty, obscura, today is never going to end, courtyard of twisting breezes, out of mutual depth, love is a mean, chanting, obssessed motherfucker & you are his favorite song.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
i.
Eternal She, embedded, in brickface, in snow
Eternal She, before me now, this sleepless dream
The great beast Mortality chained & humming
without my window, offering a whole
panoramic library of lies
Eternal She, will you see with me through
this beast, past invisibility, past its flake & fall?
The courtyard is empty, the crowd is dancing,
the band rocks on.
Eternal She, who loved me in some
secret year, full moon & beloved pine,
I would bind & kill her, she not confessed,
she still waiting for the strength that
finally embodies the promise it portends.
Saddle the horses, gather the blades
prayers are becoming dangerous again.
Eternal She, younger now than ever,
cleanse something bitter, raw & silent,
Eternal She, knowing desire again,
its biting tireless music, blood everywhere,
spend it all—
ii.
Beauty Crowds me til I die
Beauty Crowns me til I cry
Beauty mercy have on me
Beauty, marry me, marry me, marry me
But if I expire today, nameless to the last
Let it be in sight of thee
Let me disintegrate into thee
Transcend me from within, Art,
I want to be your laughing sunshine supernova.
iii.
Certain & I was your suitor
the lover of your pending garden
Momentous moment, a younger day
I saw you set ordinary air ablaze
I saw you smile at me, liquid, vanishing point
I saw you negate what I had been,
agree to forget, agree that
today was the only day & from
your womb, Beauty, I was crawling
& would here-ever-on.
I kept passing through you more slowly
til I no longer came or went
til there were no calendars, only you
til the moon, I knew, was there for you
til all that had ever been grew from you
I kept pausing before you
til pause was all there was
til I was only a young weed
on your inevitable wall
Thentime, before you transfigured into
Merry Muse I sought your nascent
likeness in the varieties of flesh,
ironic, sincere, detached, forlorn,
embodied, embraced, exhaled, inhaled,
emptied out, exited, errors, I know.
Sought I to embrace you, then near
you, then mirror. I did not know.
I do not know. Your absence
fills me, maneuvers me, verifies &
falsifies me
Please stop.
I’m too happy already.
iv.
Dancing maiden, ringing colors, vision immolating, the day uncontained by its capitals & its periods. Dancing maiden, the chanting, scorching drums troubling & pleasing you. Dancing maiden, i see you in every bar i stumble, every tree i love, every time i choose between living & dying, every time I agree to the fatty comforts of despair, the bigbellied scriptures of capitulation, last night was the last night, no more last nights left among my dreams, just fascist soft-voiced afternoons, just hosery & something adjusted too tightly. Reinvent me, dancing maiden, there is no I in me anymore. There is only a set of bored muscles, a mind left over from the ragged part of youth. Reinvent me, make me thy mate, thy servant, thy listener from afar, dancing maiden I can hear you better as you transcend me from within.
v.
Pretty, profound, pretty, profound—
i long for everything.
Art is the answer to this world.
Art is the most expensive answer in this world.
Art, drunk on pens, staggers pretty on.
Art, high on colors, floats profound away.
I saw you in a musem, once,
gave you my first bouquet of flames.
Pretty, profound, pretty, profound—
i’ll keep lapping. you keep breathing hard.
Art, my raggamuffin with furry boots &
a happy yellow purse
Art, the most regal dream—
keep breathing. inhale. exhale. harder.
I saw you in a museum, again,
but, no, here’s an empty room of rhythm,
a joint passed with a sisterly smile—
Pretty, profound, pretty, profound—
in bus stations, in desperate hours, you are love. You are
everywhere.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
in a large room, between cathedrals & haystacks, more summer than winter here, i guess, and children playing on carnival-bright days
a large canvas in a large room, a forest of a room, within the night’s shyness, beneath the night’s secret full moon, songs for wastrels & wizards, large canvas, dancing with her, her skin softer than a fancy, dressed in pink & scarlet, dressed for the courting of wastrels & wizards
(read this in a dictionary of evanescence & apocalypse)
She becomes bone-liquid, ecstacy between the beats, her release less rifle than starlight. Mesmerism.
crawl for me, Beauty, that canvas never contained you! this large room in ruins, crawl for me, Beauty! Your wastrel. Your wizard.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
vi.
We dance in the courtyard of
wind & ice. We tremble music.
Come on, Desire! Where are you from?
At low moments in my life I
had two choices—sex or philosophy.
We dance in a tangle of exhaust.
A black sheet covers our confusion.
Come on, Desire! You can’t hold that note forever!
At low moments in my life I looked
around for my answers.
We become nameless finally. Our dance
has taught us this. Desire erupts
with continuous gladness.
At low moments in my life
I believed that truth had a
tag, a list, a dwelling.
Truth is her smile studied from
across a wooden room.
vii.
Tonight I need a friend. Or something.
Tonight’s too easy. There has to be more.
Tonight I am alone. Only art will help.
Tonight I’m no longer weak. Lights. Ringing.
Tonight’s too hard. A bleak woman in pain.
Tonight I’m sure at last what I want.
Tonight I live on despite it all.
Tonight Merry Muse floats, glitters, nearby.
Kicks back her drink. Looking at me. Nodding.
She will wait.
Tonight is for burying old poems.
Tonight, nude, Merry Muse, she says: "what now?"
Tonight, brand new fall. Tonight, brand new resurrection.
Tonight Merry Muse will catch every last drop.
Tonight she’ll consider me ever-more-slowly.
viii.
There was a moment, once, back then,
it must have been several,
I pressed her shoulders hoping
for more than yield.
Quickly, in the scattered light, I told her
of my dream, a reunion with unknown
souls from my youth, a fractured celebration
of memory, something we have, something we lose.
Something we have. Something we lose.
The dream continued. Someone was missing
from the past, I explained, the full moon
judging this empty bed confession, this messy
coalescence.
Someone is still missing. Dreams & daylight
both tell me so. I pressed her shoulders,
once, back then, hoping, but all she could
offer me was yield. Something we have.
Something we lose. I long for everything.
This messy coalescence.
ix.
You who hasn’t yet arrived, I no longer expect
you. I know you are coming.
You are lost in dreamless daylight. You wait
for the pretty rubble of twilight to begin.
I don’t know what songs will please you.
I’ll sing them all for you. You’ll recognize
the right one. It will flutter dangerously.
It will remind you of me as I sing it.
A song of absence.
We’ll walk together in the twilight rubble,
the rising tide of night swelling
our hearts.
You’ll have my song. It will remind you
of me when I sing it.
From you I’ll want the touch of skin soft
as a fancy. From you I’ll demand
a midnight vow. To your lightness I will
cling til we float, til we fall.
You’ll teach me the right name for this world.
Godd. Desire. Art. Death. Art.
I’ll know. Floating. Falling, I’ll know.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Is Beauty an affliction? The clock ticks, slave to invisible cycles. Trees in ancient cemeteries mingle with displaced spirits. The moon above is full, even tonight. Every night.
Beauty an affliction? If so, then what choice? There’s rubble to be read. The wastrel wakes the wizard, together they make songs & bake vows.
Is Beauty an affliction? The more intimate slumber is coming, sleep of the golden eyes. Longer days, vaster celebration. Aging every day, in the dawn’s new light.
Beauty is an affliction. Watching the dancing maiden, calling her Art, Desire, Godd. Pinkcheeked spirituality. Too late now to believe anything else. Afflicted. Wind & ice shrill with the night’s diminishing frenzy.
Beauty, affliction. The maiden uncontained on the canvas. The maiden lost in a dreamless daylight world. One is Beauty. One is affliction. My song will teach them about each other. Twilight & midnight. Answered prayer.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
x.
Coming, soon, the morning, I am
crowded from my bed, my chamber
filling with displaced spirits I know
but did not contrive.
There’s a picture on my wall, a dancing
maiden & her beau, & I have covered
them both with songs, with fancies,
with adoration.
Desire. Art. Godd. Maybe Love too. Maybe
Death, when I am ready. For now,
a worthy cathedral. For now, intimation.
For now, stark challenge.
I long for everything.
I’ve let nothing go.
The dawn will be different, today, new,
like it is every day.
The moon will evanesce. Rubble’s just dirt.
Dreams are deserts where everything
shines but nothing lives.
Maybe? No. The spirits crowd me. I begin to float.
February 28, 1999
Malden, Massachusetts