Ceremony
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
and (fearing)
those who have been educated (paideuein)
that they would become (gignomai)
stronger (kreisson)
by togetherness (sunesis)
// 232ξ
τοὺς δὲ πεπαιδευμένους μὴ συνέσει κρείττους γένωνται
//
so i light a stick of the good dupa
then i explore your tender body for chora
gently gratified
i make a note for the future
the cave moment
i find myself re-enacting the moment
i place my hand palm out and fingers spread
as if to touch the limestone interior
then i pretend to take some liquid ochre in my mouth
and purse my lips and pfff — spit it
across the imaginary surface
and as i do i taste the tastelessness of mud
like the hermetic chamber of the cave
becomes a rock-womb for our trembling
then i examine my hand with its fingers spread
for any sign of change
i see that everything has changed
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
fearing
those who possess (ktaomai)
property (ousia)
that they would overshoot (huper-ballein) them
with possessions (chremata)
/
fearing
those who possess (ktaomai)
being (ousia)
that they would overshoot (huper-ballein) them
with sembako (chremata)
// 232ξ
φοβούμενοι τοὺς μὲν οὐσίαν κεκτημένους
μὴ χρήμασιν αὐτοὺς ὑπερβάλωνται
//
inspired by this
how can a knot
someday we can visit
the cave on Muna Island
to see the ancient rock art
the coffee cup
the pencil
a lock of hair
these things pass through your hand
and terrify me
with their solidity
your grasp of the vast and empty
and i by my vanity
struck silent
my brown egg cracked
by press of feather
into the dawn
or
my blue marble warming
into the seventy-thousand-year-old pocket
of your stencilled intention
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
because of which they turn away (apo-trepein)
the loved ones’ (eran)
communing together (sun-ousia)
with others
// 232ξ
διόπερ καὶ τὰς πρὸς τοὺς ἄλλους τῶν ἐρωμένων συνουσίας ἀποτρέπουσιν
the momentary terrible
i face the sea
im drawn to play
i face away
im pushed back to the ever-war
i close my eyes
there is a cry
when i go in
its all of me and nobody
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
for many
are
the things that pain them
and all
that comes to be (gignomai)
they own (nomizein)
as their own harm
// 232ξ
πολλὰ γὰρ αὐτούς ἐστι τὰ λυποῦντα
καὶ πάντ᾽ ἐπὶ τῇ αὑτῶν βλάβῃ νομίζουσι γίγνεσθαι
//
or
and all
that comes to be (gignomai)
they consider to be (nomizein)
for their own harm
//
in the hieron
the legacy of Alcibiades
i cant forget the mutilated herms
and glitter-ruining the sleeping streets
his point-and-shot defection from a dream
but i never saw such a beautiful city
as when standing vigil on the battlefield
his silent party drinks the wine-stained dawn
and i will never see such a beautiful city
as when my knees buckled by your ivy wreath
so i lie with dancing girls for Achelous
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
in likelihood (eikotos)
you would fear lovers (eran)
more
// 232ξ
εἰκότως ἂν τοὺς ἐρῶντας μᾶλλον ἂν φοβοῖο
//
animal ownership
i am in love
with a real animal
she feels strangely familiar
she feels strangely kind
i am drawn
by her steady warmth
by her interior calm
she seems to understand
i am tempted
to bring her home
i want her to be safe
i am afraid she is not safe
i am bound
by animal ownership
my dog is not my dog
she is her own beach dog
//
disproportionate luxury
my three cats are
as kept-healthy housecats
i daily reckon a deep
irresponsibility
//
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
but that
when you have given over
those things which you make (poieein)
the most of (peri pleistou)
great harm
comes to be (gignomai)
for you
// 232ξ
προεμένου δέ σου ἃ περὶ πλείστου ποιῇ
μεγάλην ἄν σοι βλάβην ἂν γενέσθαι
//
dessert first (so low)
dessert first (so low)
it’s the way of a house
to wait
the weight
of when whispers / trying
to squeeze the quiet
from the day
task bar doesn’t move
watching, unblinking,
as the blue
thunderstorm gets lost
among tossing limbs
wanting, not wanting
its magic entourage
to disappear
before the night / goes
permissive
lines in waiting
falling
s
e
e
d
s
bodies on the floor:
the / irrefutable
conclusion
i know now not
to try / to count
the grains
i know
by the way you hover
pale
and wonderful
and unexpected — so low
to the roof tops
//
selamat Idulfitri / ‘Eid mubarak 🌙
//
Hyperverse is made from hypertext fragments of other bloggers’ work; follow links to read complete pieces. Praise belongs to all messengers of the heart.
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
and when (as seems inevitable)
disagreement comes to be
and the mishap
in any other way
would be set down as common
to both
// 232β
καὶ ἄλλῳ μὲν τρόπῳ διαφορᾶς γενομένης κοινὴν ἂν ἀμφοτέροις καταστῆναι τὴν συμφοράν
//
selamat calendar complex
Ogoh-Ogoh for tilem today
and family calls and the gamelan calls
(seen here, here, here, here?, nsfw?)
when having constructed our demons
we carry them through the streets
and shake them and fight them
and turn them and burn them
and ooh and aah and waow
and laugh and breathe fire
and then
collapse
into
Nyepi tomorrow
no outgoing or talking
or fire or electricity
or internet
or working
or lovemaking
we let the ogoh-ogoh
believing it to be uninhabited
pass harmlessly over the island
so tomorrow will be silent
in the valley as well
no posts from me ok
then (we await
confirmation from the village
its all local time) Eid al-Fitr . . .
//
i love living where i live
never a dull moment
immersed in your genius
the gamelan starts at noon
holding my heartbeat
from the inside
//
🌑
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
and surely
if fear arises
for you
supposing friendship (philia)
to be difficult
to hold together
// 232β
καὶ μὲν δὴ εἴ σοι δέος παρέστηκεν
ἡγουμένῳ χαλεπὸν εἶναι φιλίαν συμμένειν
//
beauty of change
i fall to fragments in the pulling of your chain
my ageing eye-bones ugly by the sea
as always drags for stunner-fish from me
speaks death my fathers pockets into poverty
futility behind me fire-dives like stars
for childrens sea-bed faces i will never see
the grieving know by undertowing force
necessity your surface that i choose to be
by breaths am i permitted in this dream
your daily judgment sheer futurity
my watch the world unmade as history
your swallowing my coin remainderless
your lie in the veil between me like a mist
your move and i miss you infinitely
//
eta - note: i came across this and wanted to clarify, in case my poem may have been part of what prompted it.
this piece was written as an attempt to work through feelings of futility, distance, and a failure of vision and expression. it was not intended as a “heroic” or “no problem” poem, or as support for war, genocide, or the justification of violence.
it is fairly common for me to discover unintended interpretations in my poems after posting. sometimes that is part of what i value about writing this way. but i also recognize that it can lead to readings i did not anticipate, especially when the subject matter brushes up against real suffering.
to be clear: i do not support genocide or war. i do not blame or hold animosity toward victims of violence. i have made personal choices in my life to distance myself from institutions and systems that do support those things.
im sorry for any harm or distress this poem may have caused. that was not my intention.
-e
freedom advice
to where im from
from where ive been
when you cant see the room
stop throwing stones
//
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
but they dont even try to accuse
non-lovers (eran)
for communing together (sun-ousia)
knowing (oida) that its necessary (anagkaios)
to dialogue (dia-legein) with them
through friendship (philia)
or some other pleasure
// 232β
τοὺς δὲ μὴ ἐρῶντας οὐδ᾽ αἰτιᾶσθαι διὰ τὴν συνουσίαν ἐπιχειροῦσιν
εἰδότες ὅτι ἀναγκαῖόν ἐστιν ἢ διὰ φιλίαν τῳ διαλέγεσθαι ἢ δι᾽ ἄλλην τινὰ ἡδονήν
//
or love
prayer for puasa
the hardest thing for my puasa
and i still struggle with it
is not the hunger — i have been made
perhaps too comfortable with hunger
but its the eating again
its my takjil classic impasse
its the opening of my daily fast
and it would break me every time
my very body would refuse
my hardened lips just wouldnt soften
my sharpened teeth just wouldnt chew
my strangled throat just wouldnt swallow
so sitting parched-mouth after sunset
before my three precious dates
how angrily would i demand the cause
my why and what am i myself against
my self surrendered in survival
my self surrendered in nourishment
my self surrendered to the sunless day
my self surrendered to the slow care of the moon
and surely there remain deeper hungers
and surely colder winters to come
but Lord — please let me not refuse
your mercy when the spring appears
//