Ceremony
Socrates: so it has been the best stranger guide for you, O beloved Phaedrus
// 230ξ
ὥστε ἄριστά σοι ἐξενάγηται, ὦ φίλε Φαῖδρε
//
held
i grasp, i grasp, i fumble empty air
my fever head green tea cat litter ache
my cannot place the growing failure make
my pillow eats the grass until i wake
//
pause for illness
Socrates: (cont.) that it has grown (phuein) in gently to the steep slope, sufficient to hold, for one who has laid down their head, altogether beautifully
// 230ξ
ὅτι ἐν ἠρέμα προσάντει ἱκανὴ πέφυκε κατακλινέντι τὴν κεφαλὴν παγκάλως ἔχειν
//
of all
the most subtle
that of the grass
that in gently
to the steep
sufficient has grown
for one who laid down their head
altogether beautifully
to hold
//
maidenhair //
sound
returning traces undergrounding borne
as open airing round, roots longing light
commemorating leaves inhuman voice
midsummers dream, a choir, the covered face
//
on pleasure: infrastructure & invective
by pan, by puck or by Tokyo toilet, by Pan’s
eye polyamorous, polyvoracious maw
what briarpatch you calliper, sister sufficiency
or savage desire, oh my, this bidet enak
//
but i say more, if words be granted girls
or fish freeze-dried and rendered fatty string
O let me be your hollow chocolate, gold tinfoil
your lie swum-in for truth, your magic trick
O let me be soggy sashimi, porn under plastic
and when did pleasure stop witnessing the true
when angled by the tower’s unfunny retinue
ripe plums made massacre, her metaphor for you
and what does every girl hold in her heart
or breathing torn from her before she’s two
her body, pleasure, joy — inalienable
if pearl, self-mediation from the start
since when is iron more your shape than living flesh
and how long since eternal became momentary, dense
in you, who shimmers through your translucent skin
and whose name do you call when taken by the wind
and does your lover slice and plate your fruit
as offering, for light, cat, goddess spread out in bed
the ocean take what verb you use, cliché or clamshell hid
but give Aphrodite her fucking due
//
Socrates: (cont.) and again, if you wish, the good breath (eupnous) of the place, how sufficiently amicable (agapeton) and violently pleasurable (sphodros hedu) it is
// 230ξ
εἰ δ᾽ αὖ βούλει, τὸ εὔπνουν τοῦ τόπου ὡς ἀγαπητὸν καὶ σφόδρα ἡδύ
//
This resists translation and contains a noetic pleasure puzzle.
Eu + pnous, literally good breath, figuratively good breeze, seems to be a pun or wordplay on eu + nous, which would mean good intellect. The other two predicates — agapeton and sphodros hedu — are a pair of nearly conflicting pleasures. Agapeton describes a moderate and measured affection, whereas sphodros hedu describes a kind of pleasure (intense, vehement, violent) that lacks measure and is infinite; see Philebus 52c.
The hint is that the place itself (tou topou) possesses something akin to intelligence, or something akin to a soul, which can provide both finite and infinite pleasures, and perhaps inspires both finite and infinite love or desire. But only, he specifies, if you wish.
//
cramp
again the girl, again her edge of pain
holy immovable inside the nervous frame
and offering that traces her own name
the hieroglyphic river catching flame
//
Socrates: (cont.) and by the girls and the statues it seems to be the temple (hieron) for some kind of Nymphs and of Achelous
// 230β
Νυμφῶν τέ τινων καὶ Ἀχελῴου ἱερὸν ἀπὸ τῶν κορῶν τε καὶ ἀγαλμάτων ἔοικεν εἶναι
//
Hieron can be read as temple/holy place and as victim/sacrifical offering. Achelous was a shape-shifting river god.
//
way //
cool
the river touching one is touching two
as ribbons come undone, the red, the blood
we didn’t need a priest to make it true
the cool is spilling multitudes of blue
//
scent
no sweeter nothing making than a flower
sustaining tension, fluttering on the wing
Papilio memnon round lemon-balmy vervain
by ghost of anther’s end, the probing hour
//
the mallow sea
sleeping moons in a plastic spoon
slip them into the watcher’s tea
undertow and the lunar noon
float away on a mallow sea
loo, loo-loo, the empty sea
loo, loo-loo, the mallow
a fooly tumbles on her head
a froggy for the willow tree
fall down into the green grass bed
sail away on a bumble bee
loo, loo-loo, the bumble bee
loo, loo-loo, the mallow
a fairy’s wing in every room
a pocket for the marble sky
fluff the pillow and sweet the broom
softer than a glow worm
loo, loo-loo, the marble sky
loo, loo-loo, the mallow
sleeping moons in a plastic spoon
slip them into the watcher’s tea
undertow and the lunar noon
float away on a mallow sea
loo, loo-loo, the empty sea
loo, loo-loo, the mallow
//
🌕
//
mallowtonin
&
pour notre
voyeur
//
hag-seed
4 all
//
Socrates: (cont.) and of the chaste tree, the height and the dense shade are entirely beautiful
// 230β
τοῦ τε ἄγνου τὸ ὕψος καὶ τὸ σύσκιον πάγκαλον
//
Vitex Agnus-castus or chaste tree was associated with rituals for Hera and Demeter and medicinally, since ancient times, with women’s reproductive health. The name of the tree (he agnos/agnos) means sacred, holy, pure, chaste.
//
selfie with frog eggs //