[guitarczar]

Elation

There comes a time when one asks, even of Shakespeare, even of Beethoven, 'Is this all? ~ Aldous Huxley

Lionize this air, this ether –
lay the myth on thick
and dip the cigarettes,
all twenty (class A Apotheosis),
lit to the modern folk tune,
a token’:
and ambrosia that is a blazin’.

Then depart from us Achaean,
“go lightly on the ground,”
leave us with time to breed
ab ovo, a civilization.

Leave the spoiling seed,
leave the defecundation,
with Thetis clutching her breast,
and Demeter’s conjurations.

the sand blood-drenched, the brine-old bosom,
the honeyed-pit and rotting pomegranate

leave us to our fallen harvest,
to our κλέος, our degradation.

The Muse is yet ahead,
she awaits us, she deplores us
at the Gilead on the mount,
where the waxen white-tipped trees,
sway heavy under balsam flesh,
these she would keep to her own,
these from revelation.

There at the precipice,
she hymns on the easterly trades,
in her palm lays a muddy root,
her lips dribble sacred juice,
and beckoning she calls:
sweet is the scented bloom,
and the bitter blush of the eaters.

Note: This is the first thing I've written in a while. I think it turned out alright, at least for a first draft, but suggestions are welcome. Also, if anyone knows how to set off the italicized "sand blood-drenched" stanza, I'd much appreciate the secret. I'm not quite as proficient on the formatting as I'd like to be (hey, I never even thought I'd want to be).

[poorprince87]

So exhausted, my brother. Work's been rough. I want to make some comments, but more later.

Lionize this air, this ether –
lay the myth on thick
and dip the cigarettes,

Thank you for that verb, lionize. I needed it. Of course, I didn't know that I needed it until now, but now I know I've always needed it.

Leave the spoiling seed,
leave the defecundation,
with Thetis clutching her breast,
and Demeter’s conjurations.

The rhyme between defecundation and conjuration is skillful. For the sound and its effect.

There at the precipice,
she hymns on the easterly trades,
in her palms lay a muddied root,
her lips dribble sacred juice,
and beckoning she calls:
sweet is the scented bloom,
and the bitter blush of the eaters.

Are you using hymn as a verb here?

Dribbling lips is the image that terrifies me here. Beautifully, but still terrifying. It makes me think the Muse, a powerful force that all of the greats have invoked, is uncontrollable or insane. Wondrous.

Also, if anyone knows how to set off the italicized "sand blood-drenched" stanza, I'd much appreciate the secret.

It looks like Jeffrey just uses periods and hides them by making them the same color as the background.

More later. Godspeed.

[guitarczar]

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Thank you for that verb, lionize. I needed it. Of course, I didn't know that I needed it until now, but now I know I've always needed it.

Yeah, I like it too. I don't remember exactly how I came across it--I think I was searching for synonyms to "exaltation" or "invocation"--I was trying to replicate the way that Homer or Hesiod begins their poems--in a way, I was invoking something--but I don't want to give that away yet.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

The rhyme between defecundation and conjuration is skillful. For the sound and its effect.

Thanks. I wasn't too sure about this stanza, because I thought it felt too "sing-song." But I'm glad you like it--it's a sort of reinforcement for me--though I have to say, even reading this again (the whole poem), I still feel like it's a rough draft, albeit a fairly structured rough draft. But I'll wait for more comments like this--they help in knowing what to keep.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Are you using hymn as a verb here?

Yeah, I picked that up from Hesiod, and Homer too I think. I don't know if it renders the same in the Greek, but they use it as a verb when they're talking about the bard or the muse singing or telling a story, i.e. "and they bade me to hymn the race of the blessed immortals" (Theogeny L33, R.M. Frazer translation)

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Dribbling lips is the image that terrifies me here. Beautifully, but still terrifying. It makes me think the Muse, a powerful force that all of the greats have invoked, is uncontrollable or insane. Wondrous.

I think you picked up on what I was going for there--I'm not trying to eviscerate the Muse, by any means--at any rate that would be a sore spot for most, as it should be (it would be for me as well)--my point is more to show how some of her powers can be abused, and lead to the sentiment of the Huxley quote at the beginning. But anyway, I'm not going to go into more detail than that for now--there is some pretty explicit contrasts in the poem, but I'm gonna see if you or anyone else picks up on it--that is, to see if I did a good enough job for anyone to pick up on it. But thanks for your comments so far--in a way, it terrifies me too, and I think that's why I went with it.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

It looks like Jeffrey just uses periods and hides them by making them the same color as the background.

Interesting--I'll try that out. I don't know how to set the color, but hopefully a little fiddling will fix that.

[Nate]

Seeing as it's not really a word, what is the intended meaning of "defecundation"?

A strange (and pretty gross) combination of defecation and fecundation? Or... what?

[guitarczar]

Originally Posted by Nate

Seeing as it's not really a word, what is the intended meaning of "defecundation"?

A strange (and pretty gross) combination of defecation and fecundation? Or... what?

I was going more for the negation of fecundation--not necessarily that other thing (though in our modern world, unfortunately those two things can be linked together). More like de-throned, or something like that. But if it's causing some of those associations in your mind, I may have to reconsider it.

[poorprince87]

Lionize this air, this ether –
lay the myth on thick
and dip the cigarettes,
all twenty (class A Apotheosis),
lit to the modern folk tune,
a token’:
and ambrosia that is a blazin’.

I think I'm picking up on some of your connections here, with the reference to ether and ambrosia. You do a great job of making the invocation of the Muse a "down-to-earth" affair, by including cigarretes and "a blazin.'" Which, I suppose, would be the purpose any time a Muse is invocated, now that I think about it.

leave us with time to breed

Second stanza. If you breed time, does it reproduce? Care to share the effect you had in mind?

Leave the spoiling seed,
leave the defecundation,

I was going more for the negation of fecundation--not necessarily that other thing (though in our modern world, unfortunately those two things can be linked together).

Yeah, I was definitely thinking of some variant of defecate when I read it.

with Thetis clutching her breast,
and Demeter’s conjurations.

I know Thetis beseeched the gods on Achilles' behalf. Demeter is fertility, marriage, something like that I believe. I'm seeing a theme: the fruitfulness of the Muse (harvest, seed, "defecundation"). The tone seems to be, "Thank you very much Ms. Muse, I'm fine without you."

The Muse is yet ahead,
she awaits us, she deplores us
at the Gilead on the mount,
where the waxen white-tipped trees,
sway heavy under balsam flesh,
these she would keep to her own,
these from revelation.

Again, a sort of separation of the poet from the supposed source of inspiration. Ms. Muse is the lofty, set apart, unattainable. The fact that she awaits and deplores us is beautiful. It makes me think of the Wal-Mart employee at the returns counter. Yeah, she'll give you your money back, but she'll roll her eyes and chew her gum while she does it.

There at the precipice,
she hymns on the easterly trades,
in her palm lays a muddy root,
her lips dribble sacred juice,
and beckoning she calls:
sweet is the scented bloom,
and the bitter blush of the eaters.

Fitting end, I feel. We are now up close to the Muse we've been invoking the whole while. The muddy root again makes me think of the Muse as a source of necessary inspiration, as a plant needs the root to get water. But the root is muddy, her lips dribble. Yes, we have to ask Ms. Muse for this, but it's an annoying, even disgusting affair.

For some reason the last two lines made me think of Tennyson's "The Lotus-Eaters," and Odysseus' encounter of the Lotus-Eaters. Consumption of the plant makes us forget everything and everyone we ever loved. Not sure why, it's not very close to your theme, but it crossed my mind.

Do you resent needing the Muse? Is your Muse a "modern folk-tune?"

I especially like the imagery of your sixth stanza (waxen white-tipped trees, balsam flesh). The use of "precipice" into the seventh stanza is one of my favorite rhymes in this. It connects the last two stanzas.

There does seem to be a slight division in - I'll call it the perspective - of this one, somewhere after you ask Ms. Muse to leave to us to our harvest (stanzas 6-7). You've stopped with the invocation, and now you begin to actually describe her. The tone seems slightly different. Not bad, just wanted to make you aware that I'm interpreting a division. I actually appreciate it, as it complements the overall feel. The varied, but very present, rhyme throughout is admirable, as well.

[guitarczar]

Originally Posted by poorprince87

I think I'm picking up on some of your connections here, with the reference to ether and ambrosia. You do a great job of making the invocation of the Muse a "down-to-earth" affair, by including cigarretes and "a blazin.'" Which, I suppose, would be the purpose any time a Muse is invocated, now that I think about it.

Thanks.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Second stanza. If you breed time, does it reproduce? Care to share the effect you had in mind?

I suppose it depends on how you read the line. leave us with TIME to breed, or leave us with time to BREED. In my case, I was going for the latter. I didn't mean so much that we should breed time, I meant that we should be allowed to breed without interference--kinda like, "yeah, I'll do the dishes. But I'm gonna do it counter-clockwise! That's right!" (weird example, I know). "Leave us with time" is more of an expression than a literal request. Of course, if that didn't come across, I should look into restructuring the lines. I think with the syntax, though, it may work--of course it's in the passive voice...and I digress and befuddle (myself).

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Yeah, I was definitely thinking of some variant of defecate when I read it.

Rats. It's the unfortunate risk one takes when modulating a word. I may have to come up with a synonym. I do like the word, fecundate--not used too much, has an interesting ring to it.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

I know Thetis beseeched the gods on Achilles' behalf. Demeter is fertility, marriage, something like that I believe. I'm seeing a theme: the fruitfulness of the Muse (harvest, seed, "defecundation"). The tone seems to be, "Thank you very much Ms. Muse, I'm fine without you."

Yes, Thetis did. And according to one account, she was also captured by her mortal husband Peleus when she was close to shore. He held on to her while she morphed into all different kind of shapes, and thus earned the right to marry her, according to a previous agreement (with someone, I can't remember who right now). The account is at theoi.com (look up Thetis).

Demeter is goddess of the harvest--I took that part--and an allusion to the "rape of Persephone" from "The Homeric Hymns."

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Again, a sort of separation of the poet from the supposed source of inspiration. Ms. Muse is the lofty, set apart, unattainable. The fact that she awaits and deplores us is beautiful. It makes me think of the Wal-Mart employee at the returns counter. Yeah, she'll give you your money back, but she'll roll her eyes and chew her gum while she does it.

Yeah, a gum-chewing, blue-vest wearing Muse. What is this world coming to?

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Fitting end, I feel. We are now up close to the Muse we've been invoking the whole while. The muddy root again makes me think of the Muse as a source of necessary inspiration, as a plant needs the root to get water. But the root is muddy, her lips dribble. Yes, we have to ask Ms. Muse for this, but it's an annoying, even disgusting affair.

One thing that I may have to make clearer at the beginning is my reference to the "Achaean." Here I do refer to the muse, as she wasn't a Greek, but a daughter of a goddess/god, so technically, if one was to refer to her as Greek, they would have to include some reference to her divinity. Really what I was going for was Homer, and it was he that I meant the poem to be invoking at the beginning--namely when Demeter attempts to turn Demophoon into a god. In that way, Demeter and Thetis are somewhat similar. But that tidbit aside, I may need to be more explicit. It does make a difference (at least for me), that at first we are rejecting Homer, that is, tradition, and then later we reject the source of all that tradition. However, I myself don't really reject any of that. My goal in this poem was to show why or how people do reject it--hence the Huxley quote at the beginning, and the inclusion of "bitter blush" at the end. My point is that when we approach the Muse the wrong way, we do exhaust her and are left empty, because we don't center our quest under God.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

For some reason the last two lines made me think of Tennyson's "The Lotus-Eaters," and Odysseus' encounter of the Lotus-Eaters. Consumption of the plant makes us forget everything and everyone we ever loved. Not sure why, it's not very close to your theme, but it crossed my mind.

I've never read Tennyson's "The Lotus-Eaters," but I probably should. I am glad, however, that both Tennyson and Homer crossed your mind. That was intentional on my part--well, to evoke some sort of image about the Lotus flower. Actually, that's why I included the "muddy roots." As my friend Wikipedia so eloquently quotes Confucian scholar Zhou Dunyi, "I love the lotus because while growing from mud, it is unstained."

Also, I was going for the sexual powers of the plant, but now, I realize I may have been wrong. I thought there was some sort of intoxication that happened, but more like a trance, or orgy, or cultish ritual (a la the Lotus-eaters). I hope I'm not wrong. I may have to rewrite the poem then (though, it's true, the 9 muses are the daughters of Mnemosyne, or Memory, and they were said to have the opposite effect on men--causing them to forget their troubles--but that's still not the direction I was intending to go).

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Do you resent needing the Muse? Is your Muse a "modern folk-tune?"

No resentment at all. Perhaps rather the first stanza is restatement of old magic and truth. Also, see my above comments.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

I especially like the imagery of your sixth stanza (waxen white-tipped trees, balsam flesh). The use of "precipice" into the seventh stanza is one of my favorite rhymes in this. It connects the last two stanzas.

Thanks, I appreciate it. That linking-rhyme was unintentional, at least on a conscious level, but I'll take all the credit I can get (or steal ).

Originally Posted by poorprince87

There does seem to be a slight division in - I'll call it the perspective - of this one, somewhere after you ask Ms. Muse to leave to us to our harvest (stanzas 6-7). You've stopped with the invocation, and now you begin to actually describe her. The tone seems slightly different. Not bad, just wanted to make you aware that I'm interpreting a division. I actually appreciate it, as it complements the overall feel. The varied, but very present, rhyme throughout is admirable, as well.

Yeah, there is a definite switch (probably most noticable in meter--da dum, da da dum, da dum--I didn't want to over due it, which is why I changed the first two lines of the last stanza, as well as removed "from" from the phrase "from her lips dribbles sacred juice.") However, the biggest point behind the change in feel was that I wanted to contrast the previous stanza. I don't know if you're familiar with the "mount of Gilead," but there is supposedly has a "healing balm" that is magical and mysterious, used in the Bible actually (or mentioned, check Wikipedia if you're interested). My goal was to set up the healing balm, which I sort of describe through the "waxen white-tipped" trees that produce its resin, as a sort of means of salvation--the purity of the Muse. But as you notice, I say the Muse keeps this healing plant to herself--she doesn't share salvation with the eaters--presumably because they are approaching her the wrong way, or that they wouldn't even want it if she offered it to them (sort of speculation). The last stanza then brings the lotus into the picture--I choose to present it as a plant of lust--healing in one sense, in that it indulges your fancy, but poisonous in the sense that it stains your soul. Hence the eater's "bitter flush."

Bah--that probably just existed in my own mind. It's a somewhat complex dichotomy to bring across in poetry (at least for me), and I may be starting with false premises. But in a way, what I attempted here is what I try to do with most of my poetry. I'll write a poem that seems like I'm affirming one thing, something undesirable to those with a moral compass, but I'll actually support the alternative by depicting it a negative light. I think T.S. Eliot would call it a "poem of disintegration." Of course, C.S. Lewis called Eliot's poetry "disintegrating poems." So it goes either way--but there you have it.

[poorprince87]

Originally Posted by guitarczar

I suppose it depends on how you read the line. leave us with TIME to breed, or leave us with time to BREED. In my case, I was going for the latter.

Ah. I may have a mild case of dsylexia or something.

Originally Posted by guitarczar

I may have to come up with a synonym. I do like the word, fecundate--not used too much, has an interesting ring to it.

Where's the inflection in the word? FEcundate or feCUNdate or where?

Originally Posted by guitarczar

Yeah, a gum-chewing, blue-vest wearing Muse. What is this world coming to?

Hey, a lower-middle-class Muse has to make a living somehow.

Originally Posted by guitarczar

However, I myself don't really reject any of that. My goal in this poem was to show why or how people do reject it--hence the Huxley quote at the beginning, and the inclusion of "bitter blush" at the end.

Originally Posted by guitarczar

No resentment at all. Perhaps rather the first stanza is restatement of old magic and truth.

So, you have nothing against the Muse. You're commenting on how people resist, rebel or possibly feel awkward around the traditional necessity for the Muse. I am dense. You may have to speak slowly. Oh wait, I may have found my answer:

Originally Posted by guitar czar

My point is that when we approach the Muse the wrong way, we do exhaust her and are left empty, because we don't center our quest under God.

I think I see.

Originally Posted by guitarczar

I've never read Tennyson's "The Lotus-Eaters," but I probably should.

Tennyson can make for a difficult read, I'm afraid. I took Victorian Poetry about a year ago. Some of their stuff is brilliant, like Matthew Arnold's "Dover Beach." Some is...a little harder to trudge through, like Tennyson's In Memoriam, a 5 trillion line (I could be exaggerating, I may have to check my sources)poem dedicated to the memory of a deceased friend of his, Arthur Hallam. Not even going to pretend like I finished reading it.

Originally Posted by guitarczar

Thanks, I appreciate it. That linking-rhyme was unintentional, at least on a conscious level, but I'll take all the credit I can get (or steal ).

I will be honest: this is part of why I enjoy writing poetry so much. The flow and feel of language can create accidental genius constantly. Like playing with a slot machine you can't lose with.

Originally Posted by guitarczar

But as you notice, I say the Muse keeps this healing plant to herself--she doesn't share salvation with the eaters--presumably because they are approaching her the wrong way, or that they wouldn't even want it if she offered it to them (sort of speculation).

Insightful. Not knowing (or worse, not wanting) Inspiration even if she walked up and introduced herself.

Originally Posted by guitarczar

The last stanza then brings the lotus into the picture--I choose to present it as a plant of lust--healing in one sense, in that it indulges your fancy, but poisonous in the sense that it stains your soul. Hence the eater's "bitter flush."

Does it stain the soul because it was acquired in the wrong way? Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil kind of stain?

[poorprince87]

Originally Posted by me

I will be honest: this is part of why I enjoy writing poetry so much. The flow and feel of language can create accidental genius constantly. Like playing with a slot machine you can't lose with.

I take that back. You can lose at it. Failure can happen. I guess the difference is, with poetry, you can't say that what someone wrote was "wrong."

[Jeffrey]

I had a long reply, but Firefox ate it. When I have more energy (the school semester just ended, and I just finished my grading twenty minutes ago), I'll try to recreate it.

[guitarczar]

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Where's the inflection in the word? FEcundate or feCUNdate or where?

According to my Merriam-Webster 11th Collegiate Edition Dictionary program, it's the former.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Tennyson can make for a difficult read, I'm afraid. I took Victorian Poetry about a year ago. Some of their stuff is brilliant, like Matthew Arnold's "Dover Beach." Some is...a little harder to trudge through, like Tennyson's In Memoriam, a 5 trillion line (I could be exaggerating, I may have to check my sources)poem dedicated to the memory of a deceased friend of his, Arthur Hallam. Not even going to pretend like I finished reading it.

Victorian Poetry--interesting. I took an English & American Poetry class my junior year, and I really liked it. We read Arnold and whole lot of others--but I doubt we got as in-depth as you did with that particular era--we had way too much to cover in one semester. Yeah, I'll definitely have to check Tennyson out--I think I have some of his poems in some anthologies, and there always is the glory of the internet--though I think it's somewhat sad that you can google whole volumes of different poet's works--even if they haven't been dead for over a century. I guess I'd like to see more people pay tribute to poetry with a monetary gift.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

I will be honest: this is part of why I enjoy writing poetry so much. The flow and feel of language can create accidental genius constantly. Like playing with a slot machine you can't lose with.

Haha, I like that idea, even if you retracted a bit. I could use one of those right now, or perhaps an application of that "can't lose" magic to my current job hunt. Actually, I think one of the things I love most about poetry is when you set out to write a concept, write an intriguing line, and then end up with something more beautiful than you could have come up with even if you intentionally tried--it's when spontaneity and something magic (who knows, the Muse?) render you greater than you could ever possibly be. But maybe that's because I'm a hack. Great writers, I imagine, can produce great work in all genres, in almost all circumstances. I'm more like the piano player who has to pick a key that he knows, and work out a chord progression before hand. But when I do--look out! You'll never be so impressed by someone rather unimpressive.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Insightful. Not knowing (or worse, not wanting) Inspiration even if she walked up and introduced herself.

Thanks. Again, I can't really take credit with that being an original thought, and really, that's more speculation on my part outside of the poem--I doubt you could come up with that from a strict reading, unless you were being generous to this author (or, perhaps, if you had an understanding of my world view). It's more an argument from scripture, or philosophy, I suppose. Take the man that goes to hell and begs to return to warn his 5 brothers--he is told that if they didn't listen to Moses or the prophets, they won't listen now. It's a basic fact of human nature--we reject what's best for us, even if it's laid out clearly and explicitly.

Originally Posted by poorprince87

Does it stain the soul because it was acquired in the wrong way? Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil kind of stain?

I would say yes, I think, but more so that it's acquired for the wrong reasons. Art in itself is a commendable end--but it cannot save you. It can (and here I'm not sure I completely believe this) only point you to the Way, to the original Artist--and you must accept or reject him, praise or denounce him. But you cannot make Art God. God is beauty, yes, but he is also truth and goodness. You need all three--and if we purposely reject one, or even two of those factors, and try to retain beauty, we'll end up losing it. It will be more like The Picture of Dorian Gray--the real image, beneath it's facade, will be terrifying. I say all this with a grain of salt because I really think that art is wonderful, and perhaps a better argument for God than truth or goodness. Plus, I sometimes find myself inclined to worship Art rather than God--sometimes I love it more. But of course, I'm probably loving that action of creating--and how could there be anything more godly than that?

Ahh, I don't know. But that was the concept I was trying to convey in my poem. Mostly, I came across that quote by Huxley, and I wrote a poem trying to figure out what he meant (ha--I guess I could've just read it in context--I believe it's in relation to some aspect of the Hindu religion). But even if Huxley didn't mean what I created, I think it's still a pretty damn good explanation of how that apathy/disinterestedness could sink in.

[guitarczar]

Originally Posted by Jeffrey

I had a long reply, but Firefox ate it. When I have more energy (the school semester just ended, and I just finished my grading twenty minutes ago), I'll try to recreate it.

Please do. I'd love to hear your comments.