Spiders
VIII.iv. inter-( stickynature )-twined
ADEIMANTOS: by her nature, she has-and-holds
his proper punishment, a feast; by him,
its to be no slight feat of eating-out.
( did he fix it ? peering-about
with blurry glances )
SOKRATES: but hear, you,
ἄκουε δ᾽
ADEIMANTOS: ( . . . )
SOKRATES: ( but he was hearing )
ἄκουε δ᾽
ADEIMANTOS: ( hearing what? )
SOKRATES: but hear, you(he was hearing)therefore,
the image(likeness, picture, statue, reflection
in the mirror, boo!, representation, semblance,
phantom, imaginary form-shape,
similitude, comparison),
ἄκουε δ᾽ οὖν τῆς εἰκόνος,
ADEIMANTOS: but anyways, always
( there are multiple things ) we hear,
SOKRATES: hear, you, the image,
so that(in that place)yet more
(the flock of wool, the lock of hair),
ἄκουε δ᾽ οὖν τῆς εἰκόνος, ἵν᾽ ἔτι μᾶλλον
ADEIMANTOS: baaa, sheep go,
and cows go moo, in this
place here, and blink
like this ( cow-eyes )
SOKRATES: so that yet more(in that place)
(by timber-trees)(by sheen of metals,
gold, silver, bronze),
ἵν᾽ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἴδῃς
ADEIMANTOS: in this place here,
by many strings, the play things
of your pretty little lyres,
SOKRATES: hear, you, the image, so that you
would yet more see(and, having-seen,
would know),
ἄκουε δ᾽ οὖν τῆς εἰκόνος, ἵν᾽ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἴδῃς
ADEIMANTOS: knowing by a lie? er,
( happening simultaneously )
not we, no no,
SOKRATES: how sticky(glutinous, clammy, close-
sticking, greedy-grasping, tough-importunate-
clinging, penurious-niggardly, mean-shabby, scantily,
and yet carefully, with elaborate-detail)
(we)make-likeness-images.
ἄκουε δ᾽ οὖν τῆς εἰκόνος, ἵν᾽ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἴδῃς ὡς γλίσχρως εἰκάζω.
ADEIMANTOS: does anyone have acetone?
somethings stuck to me like superglue.
SOKRATES: for so hard(difficult-hard-harsh, painful,
grievous, like an ill-fitting cuirass, irksome, rugged,
cruel, stern, dangerous and troublesome),
ADEIMANTOS: ( is ) ( his poetry ) but still
its ( not cause and effect ) inherently,
SOKRATES: the pathos(that-which-happens-to
a person or a thing, their experiences, misfortunes,
calamities, emotions, sufferings, undergoings, passions,
states and conditions, incidents, properties
and qualities)(o pathology of pathos),
ADEIMANTOS: ( not really ) ( of ) and yet ( accustoms-to ),
SOKRATES: the most-fitting-meet-suitable(reasonable-
specious, tolerable, fair-equitable, but not according to
the letter of the law, able, capable, upper-educated,
fairly-tolerably-moderately, most-fitting)(ones),
οὕτω γὰρ χαλεπὸν τὸ πάθος τῶν ἐπιεικεστάτων,
ADEIMANTOS: and exercizes their twisting nature,
SOKRATES: (and)he(they)have(the passion)suffered,
ADEIMANTOS: ( he + he =/= we,
he adjusts my grammar to say,
it pops like spinal cavitation )
SOKRATES: in-relation-to(towards, upon, against,
touching, over-and-above, in-reply-to, in-consequence-
of, in-proportion or in-respect-of, in-comparison-with,
between, according-to, in-view-of, under-compulsion-
of, in-spite-of, before)
the(she)cities,
(they were going about, ranging over, haunting, revolving,
ploughing, turning-up)(the she-cities),
ὃ πρὸς τὰς πόλεις πεπόνθασιν,
ADEIMANTOS: that not self-sung ( but intertwined ) the him in me,
SOKRATES: that not even(are)is(we)one-we,
( but one = one-we? )
ὥστε οὐδ᾽ ἔστιν ἓν
ADEIMANTOS: nor is her-we too ( entangled ) with his-me
( his special snowflake son ),
SOKRATES: nor(is there an)other suffering of this sort,
οὐδὲν ἄλλο τοιοῦτον πεπονθός,
ADEIMANTOS: but still, he-being ( woven and blurring together ) in me,
SOKRATES: but still, it(-he stands-in-need-of)(you stand-
in-need-of)(stand-in-need-of, you!)(bind, you!)(you bind)
(he binds)(to-by-for Zeus)(it)s necessary,
ADEIMANTOS: to separate himself from myself,
SOKRATES: from many representations(o representings,
image-likenings, portrayings, comparings, describings,
resemblings, conjecture-formings),
ADEIMANTOS: the manly-many ( and whenever
we pull the thread ) its hims-in-me,
SOKRATES: to(lead-fetch)bring-by-gathering(him)self-together,
ἀλλὰ δεῖ ἐκ πολλῶν αὐτὸ συναγαγεῖν εἰκάζοντα
ADEIMANTOS: by psycho-mimetic ( to try
and gently untangle ) chiasmorganic( ! )geometry,
or a subtle spiders sticky silken thread,
SOKRATES: and(indeed)defense-speaking(making-
doing-apologia)over(in-defense-of)(her-
and him- and it)selves(too),
καὶ ἀπολογούμενον ὑπὲρ αὐτῶν,
ADEIMANTOS: and indeed, defending this-she ( we find
another knot ) made by ( a god? a poet? ) you?
SOKRATES: such as those writers(o writers, o painters,
o scribes, scriveners, copyists)(you are scratched-grazed
)(of writings, paintings, drawings, delineations, outlines,
embroidery, letters, documents, books, laws,
statements, contracts, catalogues, lists, inscriptions,
writings, such as, of)goat-stags,
(a tragelaphos, from tragos + elaphos, fantastical animal,
and drinking-cups upon-which they were scratched, and
whosits and whatsisnames, which later would name
real animals, a wild goat or an antelope,
but how would he know that?),
οἷον οἱ γραφῆς τραγελάφους
ADEIMANTOS: its like he glued himself
( and another ) ( me )
onto the cutest semi-feral cat
( Sri Rejeki, that u? ),
SOKRATES: and(indeed, the mixings-joinings)(they scratch
and graze)(they would be scratched and grazed)
(to-)by(-for)(the ones)writing(scratching, grazing)
(marking)(representing)(drawing)(painting)(description),
(they write)(they would be written)those
(o she-dyads)of-this-sort,
καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα μειγνύντες γράφουσιν.
ADEIMANTOS: self-scratching ( endlessly )
( and self-sticking, pink like bubblegum,
and self-stretching too ) ( hmm ) ( ooh )
into the nature of his so-called self.
//
from Republic VI
the Delphiad, book II
(KOURAI and HOMER on the beach at sunrise, slack-tide.)
KOURAI: push pause
HOMER: (loosed)
λῦτο
K: and let the world rest
H: but the contest(assembly - games - arena - struggle)disper s e d
(unyoked - undid - unfastened - unbound - dissolved - set f r e e
released - came undone - relaxed - unfol d e d )
(λῦτο)δ᾽ ἀγών,
K: while we arrange our thoughts
H: but each people scattered to go
(and come)upon the swift ships.
λαοὶ δὲ θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας ἕκαστοι
ἐσκίδναντ᾽ ἰέναι.
K: into neat piles
H: those(by you)(indeed)were thinking of dinner;
τοὶ μὲν δόρποιο μέδοντο
K: each carefully labeled
H: and of sweet sleep(of lichen)(he was putting
to sleep)(sleep, you)
to be satisfied;
ὕπνου τε γλυκεροῦ ταρπήμεναι:
K: lock ugly ones in a box
H: nevertheless, Achilles(remembering)
was weeping(weep, you)(remembering his)beloved companion, re-
membering, and not even sleep, all-tamer, was taking hold,
αὐτὰρ Ἀχιλλεὺς
κλαῖε φίλου ἑτάρου μεμνημένος, οὐδέ μιν ὕπνος
ᾕρει πανδαμάτωρ,
K: give the key to you
H: but he was turning(youre turning)here and there, yearning
(missing)(regretting)(longing)for Patroklos, his manhood
and his goodly menos(courage-passion-spirit-fury-strength) —
ἀλλ᾽ ἐστρέφετ᾽ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα
Πατρόκλου ποθέων ἀνδροτῆτά τε καὶ μένος ἠΰ,
and however many(he had)wound-off(achieved)together-with-him
and(the pains)suffered(endured), the pains(piercing-
through)of men(growing into manhood)the grievous wars
and(piercing-through)the(pregnant)waves(floods)(swellings)piercing-
through —
ἠδ᾽ ὁπόσα τολύπευσε σὺν αὐτῷ καὶ πάθεν ἄλγεα
ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων:
remembering those, he(weeping)let fall the blooming(flowing-
full-fresh, stout-thick-lusty)(we-weeping)tear,
at one time, on(his)(ribs)side lying down, at another again
lying(backwards)(supine)on his back, at another,
lying(prone)on his front;
τῶν μιμνησκόμενος θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυον εἶβεν,
(10) ἄλλοτ᾽ ἐπὶ πλευρὰς κατακείμενος, ἄλλοτε δ᾽ αὖτε
ὕπτιος, ἄλλοτε δὲ πρηνής:
K: knowing
H: but at times standing straight
he was turning(whirling)restless(distraught)(at a loss)(wandering
along)the beach, beside the salty sea; nor did dawn
appearing escape his awareness,
τοτὲ δ᾽ ὀρθὸς ἀναστὰς
δινεύεσκ᾽ ἀλύων παρὰ θῖν᾽ ἁλός: οὐδέ μιν ἠὼς
φαινομένη λήθεσκεν
K: you won’t give it back
H: from beyond the salt-
sea and this beach.
ὑπεὶρ ἅλα τ᾽ ἠϊόνας τε.
(enter AUTOS)
AUTOS: but in again(bow wow)to this, Ares and well-
sighted Argeiphontes(giant-slayer-Hermes)(they)play
(she-playing by he- or they-playing);
ἐν δ᾽ αὖ τῇσιν Ἄρης καὶ ἐύσκοπος Ἀργειφόντης
παίζουσ᾽:
H: but(he)at least then(youre following the dyad-word-song)
(he)would yoke the swift horses under(dyad-spider-
webs)the chariot;
ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γ᾽ ἐπεὶ ζεύξειεν ὑφ᾽ ἅρμασιν ὠκέας ἵππους,
A: nevertheless(he)Phoibos(pure, bright, radiant)Apollo
plays the kithara,
αὐτὰρ ὁ Φοῖβος Α᾽πόλλων ἐγκιθαρίζει
H: but to drag(him)he would tie(bind)Hektor behind the seat,
Ἕκτορα δ᾽ ἕλκεσθαι δησάσκετο δίφρου ὄπισθεν,
A: (as you are played)dyad-beautiful and(indeed)striding-high;
(ἐγκιθαρίζει) καλὰ καὶ ὕψι βιβάς:
H. but three-times dragging(you)around the sign(the burial-
mound)of the dead son of Menoitios(Patroklos),
and again(on the fourth)pausing to lie down,
τρὶς δ᾽ ἐρύσας περὶ σῆμα Μενοιτιάδαο θανόντος
αὖτις ἐνὶ κλισίῃ παυέσκετο,
A: but radiance shines(you are shone)around him,
αἴγλη δέ μιν ἀμφιφαείνει
H. but leaving him in ashes(and then)lying stretched-out
(prone)on his face;
τὸν δέ τ᾽ ἔασκεν
ἐν κόνι ἐκτανύσας προπρηνέα:
A: and the twinkling(and flickering)of(his)feet;
μαρμαρυγαί τε ποδῶν
H: but of him, Apollo was holding-off(hold-off, you)the whole
outrage to the flesh(body)(skin), feeling
pity for the person,
(indeed)though(he)had died;
τοῖο δ᾽ Ἀπόλλων
πᾶσαν ἀεικείην ἄπεχε χροῒ φῶτ᾽ ἐλεαίρων
(20) καὶ τεθνηότα περ:
A: (indeed)of(his)well-spun tunic;
καὶ ἐυκλώστοιο χιτῶνος.
H: but all-around by-aegis(he)covered(cover, you)by(-all-)gold,
so that(the)dragging-about wouldnt tear-off(the)skin.
περὶ δ᾽ αἰγίδι πάντα κάλυπτε
χρυσείῃ, ἵνα μή μιν ἀποδρύφοι ἑλκυστάζων.
K: (o radiant lord — )my body is refusing
to(cross-eyes)cooperate
(powers-out)again
it(you)(you)must know
(dark moon)of the storm in my heart.
H: nevertheless Odysseus
was observing the twinkling(flickering)of feet,
αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
μαρμαρυγὰς θηεῖτο ποδῶν,
A: but they rejoice-at(great thumos)looking-into(the)great thumos;
οἳ δ᾽ ἐπιτέρπονται θυμὸν μέγαν εἰσορόωντες
H: but(he)wondered(wonder, you)(at it)
in his thumos(flickering-
twinkling-heart).
θαύμαζε δὲ θυμῷ.
A: and Leto(seize-behold)of goldy-locks and(indeed)deliberate Zeus
(wondered at their)beloved child, playing amongst the immortal
gods(they shine - by shining)(they run - by runing)
(by gazing)and goddesses.
Λητώ τε χρυσοπλόκαμος καὶ μητίετα Ζεὺς
υἷα φίλον παίζοντα μετ᾽ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι.
H: nevertheless he, playing the lyre, was throwing-and-striking-up
beautifully, to sing!
αὐτὰρ ὁ φορμίζων ἀνεβάλλετο καλὸν ἀείδειν
A: and how, then-and-there, would(will)we sing(of)you(re being
sung), being(s)wholly well(and-many-well)sung?
πῶς τ᾽ ἄρ σ᾽ ὑμνήσω πάντως εὔυμνον ἐόντα;
H: about(around)Ares lovemaking and fragrant-crowned Aphrodite,
as they(dyad)first mingled, in(the)house(of)Hephaistos,
secretly,
ἀμφ᾽ Ἄρεος φιλότητος εὐστεφάνου τ᾽ Ἀφροδίτης,
ὡς τὰ πρῶτα μίγησαν ἐν Ἡφαίστοιο δόμοισι
λάθρῃ,
A: or(ah!)in going-courting we(would)sing of you,
and(indeed)in-lovemaking,
ἠέ σ᾽ ἐνὶ μνηστῆρσιν ἀείδω καὶ φιλότητι,
H: but(it)gave many(dyads),
πολλὰ δ᾽ ἔδωκε,
A: so that(mindful-of was)wooing Azantida(parched-sacred, dread-
girdled, anti-blossom)girl-daughter,
ὅππως μνωόμενος ἔκιες Ἀζαντίδα κούρην
H: but(the marriage)bed shamed, indeed(the grave)bedding
of lord Hephaistos.
λέχος δ᾽ ᾔσχυνε καὶ εὐνὴν
Ἡφαίστοιο ἄνακτος.
A: were(you)going with god-like Ischos(hip-loin-leash-strength)
at-once with well-horsed Elationides(fir-pine-tree-wood-driver-
charioteer-beating-forcing-outward-
smaller-deer)?
Ἴσχυ᾽ ἅμ᾽ ἀντιθέῳ Ἐλατιονίδη εὐίππῳ;
H: but at-once to-him(a)messenger came(and went), Helios(its-just-
the-sun), who perceived them mingling-in-lovemaking.
ἄφαρ δέ οἱ ἄγγελος ἦλθεν
Ἥλιος, ὅ σφ᾽ ἐνόησε μιγαζομένους φιλότητι.
A: or at-once(with)Thorbas(tumultuous-t-rex-against)the off-
spring by Triops(triad-eye-giant)?
ἢ ἅμα Θόρβαντι Τριοπέῳ γένος,
H: but Hephaistos, soon-as(he)heard(the)thumos-grieving(muthos)story,
there and then he stepped to go(come)to(his)forge(dyad-ugly),
(and)by the phrenes(heart-mind-built-deep)(he was)building-in-
the-deep(brooding)(pondering-secretly)dyad-uglies,
Ἥφαιστος δ᾽ ὡς οὖν θυμαλγέα μῦθον ἄκουσε,
βῆ ῥ᾽ ἴμεν ἐς χαλκεῶνα κακὰ φρεσὶ βυσσοδομεύων,
A: or at-once(with)Ereutheos(vomit-staining-fire-rageous-red)?
ἢ ἅμ᾽ Ἐρευθεῖ;
H: but(he)put the great anvil on the anvil-block, (o yes)
ἐν δ᾽ ἔθετ᾽ ἀκμοθέτῳ μέγαν ἄκμονα,
A: or at-once(with)Leukippos(white-bright-horse)and
(indeed)the wife(dame-tamer)of Leukippos(white-brightening-horse) . . .
ἢ ἅμα Λευκίππῳ καὶ Λευκίπποιο δάμαρτι
H: but he was hammering-out fastenings(fetterings-bonds-
halters(ships-mooring-cable)(knots)spells-latches-charms
(desmos)not-to-be-broken(not-to-be-loosed),
so that in-the-ground(steadfast)(safe)(un-decaying)(vigor-retaining)(never-
failing)on-the-spot they would stay(stand fast, stay at home, stay
where one is)(remain as one)(abide).
κόπτε δὲ δεσμοὺς
ἀρρήκτους ἀλύτους, ὄφρ᾽ ἔμπεδον αὖθι μένοιεν.
A: . . . on foot, but he by horses;
… πεζός, ὃ δ᾽ ἵπποισιν:
(universal-laughter)
H: nevertheless since(following the dyad-word-song)he made(built-
worked)the bait(trick-stratagem-of guile-craft-cunning-
treachery)provoked-to-anger by Ares,
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τεῦξε δόλον κεχολωμένος Ἄρει,
A: and not(one month)even
was Triops(triad-
eye)left behind;
οὐ μὴν Τρίοπός γ᾽ ἐνέλειπεν.
H: then and there(he)stepped, to go(or come)(we come)(and go)to
(his)bedchamber, where lay(his)beloved(made-by-)himself bed;
βῆ ῥ᾽ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον, ὅθι οἱ φίλα δέμνι᾽ ἔκειτο,
A: or as the first oracle(o oracle!)by human beings, seeking-
through the land(you)stepped, o throws-from-afar Apollo?
ἢ ὡς τὸ πρῶτον χρηστήριον ἀνθρώποισι
ζητεύων κατὰ γαῖαν ἔβης, ἑκατηβόλ᾽ Ἄπολλον;
H: but then, around(the)bedposts(he)was pouring(pour, you)the bonds
(fetters-head-bands)by an all-encompassing circle;
ἀμφὶ δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἑρμῖσιν χέε δέσματα κύκλῳ ἁπάντῃ:
A: to Pieria(oopsy, her Piraeus)(fertile-muses-trial)indeed the first
from Olympos(on whom)you went-down;
Πιερίην μὲν πρῶτον ἀπ᾽ Οὐλύμποιο κατῆλθες:
H: but many(of them)and(indeed)down from roof-beams(houses)(lairs)
(cages)they were poured out, like(fine-thin-delicate-subtle)spider-
webs(small intestines, a very small coin, a jar, minutes-
seconds, moonlit-outages),
πολλὰ δὲ καὶ καθύπερθε μελαθρόφιν ἐξεκέχυντο,
ἠύτ᾽ ἀράχνια λεπτά,
A: and sandy Lektos(bed-ology)you passed by
and the(being-thrown-innies)Enienes
and(indeed)through the(sprinkling-crooked-
around-the-edges)Perraibos;
Λέκτον τ᾽ ἠμαθοέντα παρέστιχες ἠδ᾽ Ἐνιῆνας
καὶ διὰ Περραιβούς:
H: and none would ever see them, not even one of the blessed gods,
for(he)had built(it)around(wily - crafty - artful)subtleties(doloeis).
τά γ᾽ οὔ κέ τις οὐδὲ ἴδοιτο,
οὐδὲ θεῶν μακάρων: πέρι γὰρ δολόεντα τέτυκτο.
A: but swiftly(perhaps)into Iaolkos(o purple-poison-arrow-dragging-battle-
cry-cure)you were arriving, and you went upon Kenaios(that-there-
here-this-that-would-empty-center)of Euboia(lovely-
cows-eyes-say-moo), ship-famous —
O Nausikleia!
τάχα δ᾽ εἰς Ἰαωλκὸν ἵκανες,
Κηναίου τ᾽ ἐπέβης ναυσικλειτῆς Εὐβοίης.
from hymn to Apollo 200-219
Il. 24.1-24
Od. 8.264-281
special delivery
smooth now, that rough magic
periscopic tragic midnight lookout
pale arms out arctic like an exiled
penguin into the nameless city
coping, cold, gauze in a sand storm
laron flicker in the mighty dust
a turning ember, hot
spark-caught, gold-litter
in the spider web
spanning a rattan lamp shade
my one fish, two fish
her peacock greenish-black or blue
the switch, dangling
sarcophagus
so dead; quothe the neon miracle
off-gassing meatlight; or Lalah
pink, with only enough instinct
to kill and never eat, my baby, yes;
deveining ribbons in the snow, scrubbed
scrubbing, awash in the darkroom; or
backstage, up rusty rungs, like icicles; blanket
of rags, pocket of candy-wrapped pills; she goes
like gamelan trancing crickets at the cross
by tilem, smoke of incense over the sawah
//
the maskmaker’s wife (a prequel)
true, i killed a spider on thursday
it was counter-intentional, a blow
i cried for hours about it, hormonal
oceanic, and only later realized how
i was folding the hung-up laundry
i saw and tried to shake the hider out
from black denim, furry humble pro-leaper
but i miscalculated; too much snap
a streak of ichor mud across the web
between my right thumb and pointer finger
she unwound inches before she emptied
and died; i was so sad; i am so sorry
sorry, sorry, i spoke to her crumpled self
recriminations. what left—a legacy of masks
some translator inside a house of masks
and O how many masks there were for mercy
//
the time i was murdered by my own poetry, vol. x
slugs in the shower, laron tonight
fertile swarm; birth/life/death 2.5 hrs
box of tissues; hollywood tomorrow
//
Begging Season
She’s ever spinning time into the wheel.
Spidering her line, by inward feel—
Triangling desire, evening to ends,
A deeper sky realizing constellation.
Death is her capital; she doesn’t spring,
But feeds into the year her twisted ply.
At distaff, by the flick of no-man’s candle,
Brown burlap webber lures the final fly.
How does a poison love the cure? Spent hours,
By the mercy of a shadow. Wanting not
To see her, housewives sweep her out the door—
Her standing slow, side-winding smoke of flowers.
A life of making is the heart of letting go.
Nightwise, black-dagger vagabond—by stars,
A diamond thief; by dawn’s left light, her whispers draw
His burning thought: the filigree of beggars.
//
🌒
splinterwha
the resource re-
considering
skipping stones
whistling
in crevasses
stellar, hollow (
reckon starving
metric Io
reaches out ( g -
lossy limb
bittermallow
idiot(es) wind
whips ( w h i n i n g
past mumbling
nettles offset
private alphabets
boolean ( b r e a s t
nipple, teething
shooter —
wounding ) strings,
splintervolta
tablet dissolves
like ambien
sound-guarded Kali
graphic stems
roots’ f r a c t a l
externality
inscribed iamb ( so
so many
times ) my ear
sheltered, Delphi-like
in serif lobe
omega ( brooding,
loaded ) blood suss-
staining ends
threaded, mute
( litters
leaf
ground ) grammar
thick bundles,
shorn bodies from
brushes, hair-
lines
t um b l e w ee d
to thrift
the thistle, this
still tick-ling
or if sewn spider-
silk knew, s o w i n g
( m i l k s o f t
the habit of
( public
beauty )
a mustard seed
//
gospel of crickets
new fiefdoms are forming.
comes the gnawing saw,
gospel of crickets.
authors of books
are finding nooks.
the map is bending.
curving, like body
being, of course, a place —
the terroir of carrots, roasting
with garlic, chilli and cumin.
longing, we remember
touch and savor, from when
our land was whole, and full.
but our landscape is broken.
parsed before it lived, engendered
as stark disability.
glass fragments are swept
heaped, and scattered, opposite
the old neighborhood.
hillsides sizzle, lost in smoke.
the multitude glitters —
bodies, on fire.
with gas, the lord is cooking
at his stainless steel reflecting pool.
he extols these terraced acres
as civil emptiness,
slate, aluminum, and hollow.
static, it echoes.
not like the night,
contrary and brimming
with her buggy heat.
a holy thicket is dying,
nested — the host of silver light,
drawing foolish creatures.
grievers in the dark,
crowers in the autumn,
langurs in the mist.
sutra sisters
weaving webs,
an insubstantial orb.
the lord is not a fool;
he makes the rule.
nevertheless, the ruler will
in muggy hedges, be herb-
tested. Dasein is to suffer
the sound of little kin.
//
dreamcatching
is your weaving procrastination or
bare art to chart the tempest of my heart
make me be making you become our all
is it wisdom when you step away from wood
the holding firm of it, its firmament
but temperamentally gossips with birds
is it deception that you tangle, home
of spider-silk as wordy work, anchored
by glittering images that come to know me
no pristine landscape catches stellar wings
earth shakes the boughs of quaking sun
scattering us as gibbering bats from ashes
airborne we’re hunting fireflies between
a melting Luna’s effulgent ice cream
dodging light-threaded night and Venus rising
i am assemblage channeled to be none
you are motion, savior of fitful sleep
the rhythmic tide unravelling its mooring
draw deeply down where one is one is one
fly home again wherefrom wind-woven sea
embroiders iridescent migrations
//
Wasalamu’alaikum 🌖✨
(Does this mean we’re all antifa now?) //
There are two words for we/us in Indonesian, one that includes you (as in, we live on earth) and the other that does not include you (as in, we live in Indonesia). It’s a useful distinction that English doesn’t have.
My husband reports that yes, I do write like I talk. F.Y.I., bitches.
Everybody has a special talent, their thing(s) they can do especially well. Most skills or talents can be put to use, subversively. We can be open-minded and creative about it. For example, I could be a really good messenger. Of, like, encoded messages.
This most recent translation (poem) I wrote went through really different and weird iterations. It was (uncomfortable, difficult, tricky) to write on the little line of dialogue. So heaps of in-progress verse were there waiting when the election happened. The election result was… key to re-working and finishing.
(This is a message (paraphrased) from my friend, A: When you lose a poem it gives birth to another poem about a lost poem. A poem she wrote was just published and I love it.)
I don’t really want write more poetry (or prose) that is so dark. But, well. It’s a fascinating time in history to be focusing on this specific passage from the Phaedrus. There is unfortunately more sexual violence to come. The intended purpose is therapeutic, … cathartic and transformative. My experience studying the dialogue now is so sharply different from when I was 18. When I first read it, I didn’t get it. I thought it was absurdist nonsense, a rhetorical game, reading the manipulative Lysias speech on sexual manipulation. My young mind could not wrap itself around the fact: the absurdity of (sexual, or other exploitative) violence, being educated into us, marketed, sold to us as love, is real, essential, and absolutely serious.
It breaks us. (?)
Either “The Memory of Trees” is better than I remembered or I’m just desperate for more Enya these days. It has some pretty mystical/elvish-sounding tracks but then I find myself humming the upbeat ones in the shower, this is embarrassing (fun).
Daily thunderstorms bring relief from heat with unpredictably cool gusts of wind, heavy with water. The bath garden is magical after it rains, a hot shower in the cool, drippy, cloudy-dark world. Some wood-ear fungus is growing on a nearby log, it enjoys the steam of my shower, this feels intimate. And we’re still very buggy here, more mosquitoes lately, lots of swarming ants and termites, all different sizes of those, moths, praying mantis, sweet, stingless trigona bees, mud-daubers and “murder hornets”, grasshoppers and crickets, katydids and cicadas, spiders, other spindle-legged bodies, tiny lightning bugs, all shapes and sizes of wriggling worms in the dirt, or coiling centipedes, slippery earwigs, shiny black beetles that are tiny or large, or very large and pincered, like scarabs.
Before, people wanted to protect democracy. After, people need to protect themselves from democracy. Democracy is in itself nothing (more precisely, anything). Education is the something-making.
It’s hard to say “fix your boat” to people who don’t realize they’re in a boat. Sometimes in an inflatable tube in a swimming pool on a gigantic (leviathan) cruise liner. Then I look around and wonder, what’s my boat that I don’t realize? This makes me feel very “Bill and Ted”. (Does it need fixing? Constantly, yes.)
Nature also floats, but it wasn’t built by humans.
(Yes. Yes, it does.)
Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatu. 🌗
Showering. A spider came dangling down from the ceiling, right in front of my face. A smooth spiderwoman drop, front legs raised in fearless poise. How graceful she was, descending into the steamy waterfall! The subsequent dance. (I imagine myself played by Kim Cattrall.) Me, nude, startled bonkers. She, versatile, evading my careful attempts, trying again with more elaborate gestures, to catch her by her thread. I failed. She lifted herself up and escaped into obscurity (the thatched bamboo ceiling).
The bathroom is where we keep a seminar of spiders. They are good at catching bugs and generating ideas.
Spider practice. // Not just the weaving of her web, a trap and a home and a cosmos and a sort of destiny. But also, the way it (daily) breaks, and how she does it again, and again, and again. This is her work and her expression. Loss, and the spirit of starting over from (seeming) nothing. Discovering new anchors, and then, half-measuring, half-making relationships between them. Living on strands of silk is not dissimilar to living on hypothesis. (Her spider soul suspended somewhere between dia-noia and noesis.)
How Not to Break
Σωκράτης: καλῶς γάρ, ὦ ἑταῖρε, λέγει.
Socrates: Beautifully said, fellow.
//
People forget the absolute confusion it would throw us into. Our poor hearts. To be flirted with by Socrates!
Everyone reacted in his own way. There were puppies, pitbulls and poodles among us, Siamese cats, golden retrievers, kosher beef hotdogs, poisonous spiders and slithering snakes, all electrified, burning cheeks, clammy hands, contemptuous coughs, eyes rolling exaggeratedly behind backs, tea-drinking, name-calling, note-taking, knowing looks, mistaken engagements, pregnant pauses, drunken outbursts, drunken confessions, drunken makeouts, sneaking sweets into pursed lips, so many petty jealousies you wouldn’t believe.
Backstabbing, frontstabbing, it got ugly, abusive. Nobody wanted to see himself like that. Some went abstract, algebraic, symbolic, tried to ignore it, tied their hands as they slept. It exhausted us all. Some dismissed her for it, pretended cute compliments were sarcastic slights, secret glances a lie, the multi-entendres a meaningless flourish, intellectual metaphor, performative bullshit, while sneaking behind bushes. Some named it irony, her beloveds and her beautifully saids, a great number of grown men turned theatrically, cartoonishly evil, sending pornography to professional inboxes, these are historical facts, they just broke.
From her simple, sweet flirtation: they broke.
The question was always, how not to break.
(Hold it together?) What does he want. (Does he want it from me?) What do I want. (Why do I want it?) Do I want to give. (Do I have what he wants?) Do I believe him. (Is it about sex?) The stimulation of bodies to pleasure, more pleasure, until lost in the pleasure. (Reforged in pleasure?) Is it empty or is it full. (It or me?) Am I safe or am I in danger. (Which is the one that holds me together?)
The heart becomes a gaping question.
After all, this is a rite of passage. Few of us pass. (Pass into what?) The beautiful is what we call it when someone just does.
//