Pagan Poetry 2 : In the Sreets

If there's one thing that keeps surprising me is how deprived of poetry we can be. Every day, everywhere : work, bed, radio, tv, news, books, entertainment. Everything is made so you will not realize that there's such a thing as beauty in the most simple situations.

Whether you want it or not, whether you notice it or not, there's always just a single moment where you'll stop and wonder at something that doesn't have any meaning but for you.

I have this book where it's written that reading poetry for 20 minutes everyday would deeply change and free anyone. I don't know if that's true. Im' quite scared to do it.

I was walking down the street the other day and suddenly i noticed that some black tags on the sidewalk. Someone had tagged in huge black letters a love poem. It was the most revolutionnary act I had ever witnessed.

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Pagan Poetry 1 : Renascence

ALL I could see from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood;
I turned and looked the other way,
And saw three islands in a bay.
So with my eyes I traced the line	5
Of the horizon, thin and fine,
Straight around till I was come
Back to where I’d started from;
And all I saw from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood.	10
Over these things I could not see:
These were the things that bounded me;
And I could touch them with my hand,
Almost, I thought, from where I stand.
And all at once things seemed so small	15
My breath came short, and scarce at all.
But, sure, the sky is big, I said;
Miles and miles above my head;
So here upon my back I’ll lie
And look my fill into the sky.	20
And so I looked, and, after all,
The sky was not so very tall.
The sky, I said, must somewhere stop,
And—sure enough!—I see the top!
The sky, I thought, is not so grand;	25
I ’most could touch it with my hand!
And reaching up my hand to try,
I screamed to feel it touch the sky.
I screamed, and—lo!—Infinity
Came down and settled over me;	30
Forced back my scream into my chest,
Bent back my arm upon my breast,
And, pressing of the Undefined
The definition on my mind,
Held up before my eyes a glass	35
Through which my shrinking sight did pass
Until it seemed I must behold
Immensity made manifold;
Whispered to me a word whose sound
Deafened the air for worlds around,	40
And brought unmuffled to my ears
The gossiping of friendly spheres,
The creaking of the tented sky,
The ticking of Eternity.
I saw and heard and knew at last	45
The How and Why of all things, past,
And present, and forevermore.
The Universe, cleft to the core,
Lay open to my probing sense
That, sick’ning, I would fain pluck thence	50
But could not,—nay! But needs must suck
At the great wound, and could not pluck
My lips away till I had drawn
All venom out.—Ah, fearful pawn!
For my omniscience paid I toll	55
In infinite remorse of soul.
All sin was of my sinning, all
Atoning mine, and mine the gall
Of all regret. Mine was the weight
Of every brooded wrong, the hate	60
That stood behind each envious thrust,
Mine every greed, mine every lust.
And all the while for every grief,
Each suffering, I craved relief
With individual desire,—	65
Craved all in vain! And felt fierce fire
About a thousand people crawl;
Perished with each,—then mourned for all!
A man was starving in Capri;
He moved his eyes and looked at me;	70
I felt his gaze, I heard his moan,
And knew his hunger as my own.
I saw at sea a great fog bank
Between two ships that struck and sank;
A thousand screams the heavens smote;	75
And every scream tore through my throat.
No hurt I did not feel, no death
That was not mine; mine each last breath
That, crying, met an answering cry
From the compassion that was I.	80
All suffering mine, and mine its rod;
Mine, pity like the pity of God.
Ah, awful weight! Infinity
Pressed down upon the finite Me!
My anguished spirit, like a bird,	85
Beating against my lips I heard;
Yet lay the weight so close about
There was no room for it without.
And so beneath the weight lay I
And suffered death, but could not die.	90
Long had I lain thus, craving death,
When quietly the earth beneath
Gave way, and inch by inch, so great
At last had grown the crushing weight,
Into the earth I sank till I	95
Full six feet under ground did lie,
And sank no more,—there is no weight
Can follow here, however great.
From off my breast I felt it roll,
And as it went my tortured soul	100
Burst forth and fled in such a gust
That all about me swirled the dust.
Deep in the earth I rested now;
Cool is its hand upon the brow
And soft its breast beneath the head	105
Of one who is so gladly dead.
And all at once, and over all
The pitying rain began to fall;
I lay and heard each pattering hoof
Upon my lowly, thatchèd roof,	110
And seemed to love the sound far more
Than ever I had done before.
For rain it hath a friendly sound
To one who’s six feet under ground;
And scarce the friendly voice or face:	115
A grave is such a quiet place.
The rain, I said, is kind to come
And speak to me in my new home.
I would I were alive again
To kiss the fingers of the rain,	120
To drink into my eyes the shine
Of every slanting silver line,
To catch the freshened, fragrant breeze
From drenched and dripping apple-trees.
For soon the shower will be done,	125
And then the broad face of the sun
Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth
Until the world with answering mirth
Shakes joyously, and each round drop
Rolls, twinkling, from its grass-blade top.	130
How can I bear it; buried here,
While overhead the sky grows clear
And blue again after the storm?
O, multi-colored, multiform,
Beloved beauty over me,	135
That I shall never, never see
Again! Spring-silver, autumn-gold,
That I shall never more behold!
Sleeping your myriad magics through,
Close-sepulchred away from you!	140
O God, I cried, give me new birth,
And put me back upon the earth!
Upset each cloud’s gigantic gourd
And let the heavy rain, down-poured
In one big torrent, set me free,	145
Washing my grave away from me!
I ceased; and through the breathless hush
That answered me, the far-off rush
Of herald wings came whispering
Like music down the vibrant string	150
Of my ascending prayer, and—crash!
Before the wild wind’s whistling lash
The startled storm-clouds reared on high
And plunged in terror down the sky,
And the big rain in one black wave	155
Fell from the sky and struck my grave.
I know not how such things can be;
I only know there came to me
A fragrance such as never clings
To aught save happy living things;	160
A sound as of some joyous elf
Singing sweet songs to please himself,
And, through and over everything,
A sense of glad awakening.
The grass, a-tiptoe at my ear,	165
Whispering to me I could hear;
I felt the rain’s cool finger-tips
Brushed tenderly across my lips,
Laid gently on my sealèd sight,
And all at once the heavy night	170
Fell from my eyes and I could see,—
A drenched and dripping apple-tree,
A last long line of silver rain,
A sky grown clear and blue again.
And as I looked a quickening gust	175
Of wind blew up to me and thrust
Into my face a miracle
Of orchard-breath, and with the smell,—
I know not how such things can be!—
I breathed my soul back into me.	180
Ah! Up then from the ground sprang I
And hailed the earth with such a cry
As is not heard save from a man
Who has been dead, and lives again.
About the trees my arms I wound;	185
Like one gone mad I hugged the ground;
I raised my quivering arms on high;
I laughed and laughed into the sky,
Till at my throat a strangling sob
Caught fiercely, and a great heart-throb	190
Sent instant tears into my eyes;
O God, I cried, no dark disguise
Can e’er hereafter hide from me
Thy radiant identity!
Thou canst not move across the grass	195
But my quick eyes will see Thee pass,
Nor speak, however silently,
But my hushed voice will answer Thee.
I know the path that tells Thy way
Through the cool eve of every day;	200
God, I can push the grass apart
And lay my finger on Thy heart!
The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the world is stretched the sky,—	205
No higher than the soul is high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away on either hand;
The soul can split the sky in two,
And let the face of God shine through.	210
But East and West will pinch the heart
That can not keep them pushed apart;
And he whose soul is flat—the sky
Will cave in on him by and by.

Let's Play

Film : « les dames du bois de boulogne »

JACQUES - I didn’t succeed in entertaining you , you’re hurt , I know i’m bothering you . but I’m your oldest friend , and if you shut up I’ll speak to you . Hélène , you dropped everything , abandoned everything for a lover who doesn’t love you anymore .

HELENE - Jean adores me and I adore him .

JACQUES - you know what I mean . observe him as I observe you .There is no such thing as love , Hélène, there only are proofs of love .

HELENE - our love bothers our friends . I’m sorry , I’m happy .

JACQUES _ I should warn you , but I only love you .

HELENE - goodnight , Jacques , the play is long , and I’m tired .

JACQUES - Goodnight

(…)

HELENE - Jean ! … you got me scared .

JEAN - I came to apologize for this stupid forgetting.

HELENE - it’s of no importance between us , I’m tired .

JEAN - I must admit , I had completely forgotten I was having dinner with you tonight , I’m unforgivable !

HELENE- do you like this box ?

JEAN- I like gold , it looks like you , hot , cold , clear , dark , uncorruptible .. what a nice piece . Thank you .

HELENE - it was your birthday present . you would have found it on your seat

JEAN - our birthday ?

HELENE - already two years we decided to live for each other .

JEAN - I’m a monster .

HELENE - don’t blame yourself , we all have something to blame ourselves for .

JEAN - reproaches ? you ?

HELENE - me

JEAN - tell me

HELENE - maybe it’s better not to say anything

JEAN - what about our pact ? it was about telling everything to each other ! no matter what .

HELENE - that’s the problem , since a few days , I hesitate to tell you something , I’m afraid to hurt you .

JEAN - You , hurt me ?

HELENE - well , Jean , it happened little by little , despite me , whithout me even noticing , I couldn’t laugh , couldn’t sleep anymore , I was wondering if it came from us ,no . you’re the same , marvellous as usual . I changed , I wonder .why doesn’t it ache anymore to wait ? your coming doesn’t upset me anymore ….

JEAN- Hélène !

HELENE - the discovery is awful , but I’m going to be honest , my heart is growing apart from you . I’m waiting for your reproaches , the worst names .

JEAN - Hélène , you’re great , it was you who spoke first . and I should be the first one to be guilty . the story of your heart is word for word the story of mine . everything you said I said to myself .i didn’t dare to speak .

HELENE - is it true ?

JEAN- it is , hélène , you’re beautiful ! You’re stunning . it would have been awful to continue.

HELENE - yes awful , what are we going to do ?

JEAN- we didn’t fool each other , we’ll meet again . we would have avoided the lingering dying loves . no tricks , no discoveries , we’ll be unique in our kind . I get my freedom back , you get yours , I’ll tell you everything , you’ll do the same . maybe one day I’ll realize you were the only woman for me and come back .who knows the future ?

HELENE - what if when you come back , I’m not here anymore … I mean , everything is possible , I could fall in love with someone else , not like you , but I could .

JEAN - it would be nobody’s fault .goodnight , Hélène .

HELENE - goodnight Jean

(Jean leaves)

HELENE - take all the the calls , I’m here for no one .

THE MAID - no one ?

HELENE - no one . I’ll have my revenge .

A softer spot

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One thing about the living...

One thing about the living
Every now and then one of us
Stops dying for a moment

After forty days, it came back in December while the wind blew like Baltimore around this southern city. It came back. It walked around talking to gardeners, waving at football players, luring me back to your bed. It came back, colder, deeper, more terrible than I remembered. I knew the route it took to find me, the detours it made, the washed-out bridge, the dangerous ferry crossing. I pretended it was cat wailing on another roof.
Later I took it to lunch. I fed it bread and wine. I gave some to Spooky nd some to Irise and some to the football players and poured some into a letter and went upstairs and got into bed and held it while it took my arms and legs. I closed my eyes it grew heavier. I held still it grew heavier.


Ellen Gilchrist “Net of jewels”




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