desert meu amor II

[Bar22do]

Desert Meu Amor II

He now climbed up your rocky hights undaunted,
desert meu amor, to pursue his fervid quest.
Without a landmark, and prey to your emptiness
(or by it blessed?)
to espy the yet never « given » Ultimate.
Flouting the cold, he offered his solitude -
upon this lofty plateau facing Mount Seir –
laid empty as your darkness, shape open apart,
in chilled absolute blank of suspended hope.
Rough tiny stones that he pulled from your sands,
revealed to him but fossils of remote speeches,
often « given » and which your wind swept like all dusts.
He overcame the benumbing dread of waning,
and soon composed, he focussed on one thought:
to apprehend the concealed, and then to fight
for every letter: m, i, d, b, a, and r…
for a hieroglyph, any cabalistic sign,
for mere rubber’s shreds over erased ciphers.
O, but - nothing came.
Miracle squatted down behind some larger stone
which he didn’t remove, cringing at snake’s venom.
He listened, stared and thirsted, rustled the Psalms,
o meu amor – why did you act seek and not find
under night’s fair sky – didn’t you see? Above you,
stars were finishing their scraps on the solar disk
soon ready to resume its hasty rolling day…
His surge was sorry, and it was by then too late
to bare a speck of your Methuselan archive…
Yet - a name: beating inside your rock, so near!
revived his fading hope, now kept for future tries.
He only was sad to think you would dismiss him
with hardly an echo of a faint rhythm to hear…

[PrinceMyshkin]

Desert Meu Amor II

He now climbed up your rocky hights undaunted,
desert meu amor, to pursue his fervid quest.
Without a landmark, and prey to your emptiness
(or by it blessed?)
to espy the yet never « given » Ultimate.
Flouting the cold, he offered his solitude -
upon this lofty plateau facing Mount Seir –
laid empty as your darkness, shape open apart,
in chilled absolute blank of suspended hope.
Rugh tiny stones that he pulled from your sands,
revealed to him but fossils of remote speeches,
often « given » and which your wind swept like all dusts.
He overcame the benumbing dread of waning,
and soon composed, he focussed on one thought:
to apprehend the concealed, and then to fight
for every letter: m, i, d, b, a, and r…
for a hieroglyph, any cabalistic sign,
for mere rubber’s shreds over erased ciphers.
O, but - nothing came.
Miracle squatted down behind some larger stone
which he didn’t remove, cringing at snake’s venom.
He listened, stared and thirsted, rustled the Psalms,
o meu amor – why did you act seek and not find
under night’s fair sky – didn’t you see? Above you,
stars were finishing their scraps on the solar disk
soon ready to resume its hasty rolling day…
His surge was sorry, and it was by then too late
to bare a speck of your Methuselan archive…
Yet - a name: beating inside your rock, so near!
revived his fading hope, now kept for future tries.
He only was sad to think you would dismiss him
with hardly an echo of a faint rhythm to hear…


It will take me (at least) several more readings to appreciate the many strands of your thoughts and reading, and the many references throughout this to things lost, faded or overlooked.

I wonder, should you have included a footnote to make clear that " m, i, d, b, a, and r… " is the Hebrew for desert (or is it properly 'wilderness'?)?

[Bar22do]

PM: Thanks for you reaction. Well, actually, the meaning of these letters is manyfold, as they are also a mere random listing, and for this reason I didn't want to explicit anything about them. Between me and me, I more alluded to "Who will speak" that these letters, when in Hebrew (but they are Latin, not Hebrew letters), express among others. It was meant to be left concealed and only add little vocal beads to the rest, I forgot some might have a knowledge of a Semitic language.

I would be grateful to learn (from you, plus from who would volunteer) how (and if) the whole thing reads/works...

[paperleaves]

Wow, this surely is going to make for a great read over and over again, there are so many surprises, rich in colour and scent and flavour, I am not sure what to make of this dark tribute, to what I see as unknown..How intriguing this work is, one of those pieces that I cannot conceive, yet am solely taken by. One of those pieces I wish for you to explain, but I know there are so many stories and thoughts and tastes and sounds that deciphering it may be impossible. Thank you, bar

[firefangled]

I am one of those who feels this rather than understands it completely and that to me is not a bad thing. I read a lot of poetry over and over by ear and feeling until it begins to enter me like water entering a root.

What appeals to me about your poem is the tone of it. It has an ancient tone befitting the story. It is one thing to use archaic words, but to truly integrate them this way requires thought and skill.

[MorpheusSandman]

Maybe it's all of the imagery of being lost in a desert but these two pieces of yours remind me vividly of two issues from Neil Gaiman's Sandman; one called Soft Places and the other called Exiles, both about being lost in the desert. But the tone is remarkably similar as well (maybe it's that dark, meditative, contemplative thing). This is certainly a rich piece, though I think I like the first a bit better.

[cogs]

i liked this: "Above you,
stars were finishing their scraps on the solar disk
soon ready to resume its hasty rolling day… "
as it shows that even in our spiritual infancy, when moses received the commandments, god and the universe were already ancient; the days now marked by a relatively young sun that sparked our journey (through the desert, if i may).

[Bar22do]

Thank you all for your comments, appreciation and remarks.

Paper: my recurring returns to Desert are in connection with longing for realities never yet explored that might (though it is probably illusive) help the sad condition of humanity… for stealing a spark of a novel something*… always gods’ refused but for a snatched trace, a trace that does not remain, but leaves one enough to support yet another attempt for, maybe as Prince wrote in his Two Propositions (and which I may misuse a bit, sorry PM):

« for something not yet here,
not quite here, not altogether
here, but forever being called into being...”

*not very modest of me to have such thoughts, I suppose…

Firefangled: I was aware of an ancient tone in this poem, less aware that I was using archaic words… I still have so much to learn to acquire good mastery of English…

Morpheus: I feel uncomfortable to confess to you in public that I hardly ever read anything by Neil Gaiman whose fame I am aware of… I will look for Exiles and Soft Places, but to me Desert state (physical and metaphoric) nears most the “beyond looking glass” which Alice crossed and my protagonist only defies, winning but meager victories; underlying this poem is King Salomon’s:
“What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which one can say, "Look! This is something new"? It was here already, long ago; it was here before our time. There is no remembrance of men of old, and even those who are yet to come will not be remembered by those who follow.”(Ecclesiastes 1:9-14 NIV)

which I question.

Cogs: … for we are still infants and have a long way to go to reach the future of antiquity, if I may..

[PrinceMyshkin]

Thank you all for your comments, appreciation and remarks.

Paper: my recurring returns to Desert are in connection with longing for realities never yet explored that might (though it is probably illusive) help the sad condition of humanity… for stealing a spark of a novel something*… always gods’ refused but for a snatched trace, a trace that does not remain, but leaves one enough to support yet another attempt for, maybe as Prince wrote in his Two Propositions (and which I may misuse a bit, sorry PM):

« for something not yet here,
not quite here, not altogether
here, but forever being called into being...”

*not very modest of me to have such thoughts, I suppose…

Firefangled: I was aware of an ancient tone in this poem, less aware that I was using archaic words… I still have so much to learn to acquire good mastery of English…

Morpheus: I feel uncomfortable to confess to you in public that I hardly ever read anything by Neil Gaiman whose fame I am aware of… I will look for Exiles and Soft Places, but to me Desert state (physical and metaphoric) nears most the “beyond looking glass” which Alice crossed and my protagonist only defies, winning but meager victories; underlying this poem is King Salomon’s:
“What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which one can say, "Look! This is something new"? It was here already, long ago; it was here before our time. There is no remembrance of men of old, and even those who are yet to come will not be remembered by those who follow.”(Ecclesiastes 1:9-14 NIV)

which I question.

Cogs: … for we are still infants and have a long way to go to reach the future of antiquity, if I may..


You are indeed welcome to quote from me any time you wish. It flatters me. And as for your several replies, it is a pleasure to read both the originals and your always tactful responses.

[~Sophia~]

Though I don't really understand the poem, I wanted to respond because it's beautiful in language and in the individual images I got traveling through the poem. Thanks Bar... a wonderful read.

[MorpheusSandman]

I feel uncomfortable to confess to you in public that I hardly ever read anything by Neil Gaiman whose fame I am aware of… I will look for Exiles and Soft Places, but to me Desert state (physical and metaphoric) nears most the “beyond looking glass” which Alice crossed and my protagonist only defies, winning but meager victories;That quote was certainly lovely and fitting but I didn't mean to imply that the piece is un-original but was merely expressing that I felt a certain aesthetic/thematic similarity that struck me. You mention Beyond the Looking Glass/Alice in Wonderland and Gaiman's Sandman series (his magnum opus) is all about the nature of dreams and reality (in fact, Dream himself, AKA Morpheus is the main character) and there were merely two related volumes about the desert. IIRC they aren't directly tied to any overarching narrative so if you can find them I would recommend reading them. I know one is in Vol. 6 "Fables and Reflections" which might be worth buying anyway since it's a series of mostly stand-alone issues.

[Bar22do]

Thank you, Sophia! It is so very kind of you.

Morpheus: the similarity you feel flatters me from the little I heard of Gaiman's writings. and I'm grateful for your suggestion! I'll be probably able to to find Sandman's series at the "Shakespeare Company" (have you heard of this old great bookstore in Paris by the river Seine in the Latin Quarter?) when I can reach la Rive Gauche! Have an inspired day!

[firefangled]

Bar, I intended no criticism of you command of English. Is not hights an archaic spelling? I though it was intentional to match the tone.

[Bar22do]

Bar, I intended no criticism of you command of English. Is not hights an archaic spelling? I though it was intentional to match the tone.

It was self-criticism, Fire, for I do not always distinguish between archaic and modern. I first learnt Victorian English; maybe "hights" or other words of old days just sneaked in to my poem seduced by its tone... thank you for your caring, tactful explanation.

[blank|verse]

He now climbed up your rocky hights undaunted,
desert meu amor, to pursue his fervid quest.

I'm sorry, but I can't help read this as a double-entendre - is that just me?

[Bar22do]

I'm sorry, but I can't help read this as a double-entendre - is that just me?
I wish you had mistaken this for The Song of Songs (for it would have then been a compliment...);)

[blank|verse]

Yes, yes (coughs, hurriedly checks bible) that's exactly what I meant to say...

And a wonderfully evocative poem it is as well.