Showing posts with label EROS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label EROS. Show all posts

Friday, April 15, 2016

POETRY MONTH #poetrymonth #ohj #mpy







MARCHING PAPERS

Eros harrows my heart: wild gales sweeping …
    ~Sappho, Fragment 42, Michael Burch, trans.





April’s cruelty snatched from me
lines of poetry

no subterfuge, windblown homophone;
no empty wrappers journey alone



©2016 April Is The Cruelest Month stephaniepope mythopoetry.com
#poetrymonth #ohj #mpy

Friday, January 1, 2016

SWEET SIXTEEN: EROS (LIFE ENERGY) IN 2016

EROS and Psyche
















EROS ARROWS I BEHELD AND THEN
      I beheld your features with my soul -Ovid, Heroides, 16-18


Up against a thin wall, the skin split
a skin hard in shell and worn subterranean
a pressed skin too terribly hard, a tight dress
in dressed-down flesh, remote and
recessed, a peri-flesh in paradise.

Once a home till wings are clipped
once a world, unbottled, bared

she still lives the place, broad-breasted
and in her being (in really being nowhere)
as if sex, like flesh, undressed
as if sex, like paint, were flesh
the first of the first lived
like the best in us, the worst and slid

the deep fissure in a way of being
out of chaos slide.

First came the chasm and then beauty
broad-breasted, ourea snowy
something dark and remote in recess
a great release, living force and passion
wet and willed to no purpose wingéd flew
and EROS, too, dissolver of flesh, withdrew.


Zero in EROS
disturb beyond reason
something living cupped like wet silver
living underneath
out of reach and rhyme, something
a little out of time

in composition, sex
so sublime the shapeless killing
in it, kills with love; what kills
splitting arms and legs a-part
a deep fissure, a way of being (submerged).

How it loosens! And, oh, how,
when nothing sees something and wonders
in draperies gilded red with eyes
the treasure lives low the vowel
in genos and the gene.

It brings to order its own order
a chaos genet, a living softness 
in dressed up flesh―down inside;
the best in us, the worst
painfully aware of the illness we are

the roundness of it

worn like a shell.


©2015 
Zero In by stephanie pope
republished courtesy of
  mythopoetry.com


©2006 Zero In stephaniepope mythopoetry, first publication
 

notes

1.  "I beheld your features with my soul."  for more of this passage see  [27] http://www.theoi.com/Text/OvidHeroides4.html 

2. Full the full text of Ovid Heroides see the above link.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

OF CHAOS, EROS & EARTH: ‘A Crown Of Gold’ Is A Curious Work

William Etty, Pandora Crowned by the Seasons, 1824























…the Olympian carpenter, created a ‘crown of gold’ …On it was much curious work, wonderful to see; for of the many creatures which the land and sea rear up, he put most upon it, wonderful things, like living beings with voices: and great beauty shone out from it. –Hesiod, Theogony

DICKERSON: People basically on the left and right feel like the system is rigged and that the wealthy have the upper hand.

NOONAN:  … it's interesting that they're talking about this. And I think it has to do with the fact that people in America understand that the poor now are stuck in a way they haven't been in the past and have various reasons that they can't rise, and somebody's got to look at that, because it's kind of unAmerican that you can't rise, you know. So, it's an essential issue.

-CBS News, Face the Nation Transcripts February 1, 2015

“To Pandora, the earth, because she bestows all things necessary for life."
                             -note attributed to Hipponax on Aristophanes' The Birds


SUPPOSE THE GOD OF LOVE WHO DIED DRAWS US, SUPPOSE THE CHASM DRAWS US IN TO SHAPE THAT; SUPPOSE


people must rise
their rhythm of arisen
must rise; give up a crowning ghost

indeed, a cold old mist
already shades in their
movements the older ones

long gone
run on―Pandoran;
numen

is a hissing hostess
a deep nature
twinkling

& you are not what happens
but here, in your ghost
you are this golden guest



©2015 EarthRise stephaniepope mythopoetry.com


notes

1. For an interesting turning of the myth of Pandora see http://pandoras-box.hubpages.com/hub/The-Story-of-Pandoras-Box

2. For the “EarthRise” image— the Earth rising over the moon's horizon as seen firsthand by the 1968 Apollo 8 crew see http://www.space.com/24038-nasa-recreates-apollo-earthrise-video.html

3. For the Face The Nation transcripts see http://www.cbsnews.com/news/face-the-nation-transcripts-february-1-2015-graham-durbin-baker/

4. For the acoustic image, “ghost-host-guest” see David L. Miller, “Hells & Holy Ghosts: A Theopoetics Of Christian Belief” New Orleans: Spring Journal, p.109.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

KRONOS AND THE ENT

PHOTO CREDIT: © 2008 ENT

























IN THE BEGINNING



time did not stand still


it scrambled
down & back & bent
with efficacy my tree


© 2015 The Creature In My Tree stephanie pope mythopoetry.com
#ohjDailyWords #ohj #vss #mythopoetics #micropoetry #4lines


notes


1. That the presences of “who one is”, are already with one in potential at birth.

2. That what makes me up, I didn’t make [up].

3. That what I did not make up is using my consciousness  to grasp consciousness in real essences of persons within the actuality of my person.  And what I discern in actuality is, in its congeniality, [congeniality in the sense of Jacque Maritain’s connaturality a conceptual union by means of "inner bents and propensities of [one’s] own being."  [see chapter four, “Poetic Intuition” in John W. Hanke, ‘Maritain’s Ontology of A Work Of Art, Springer e-book ] a description like  Henri Corbin’s angel, an event in the soul by the soul for its own sake.

4. That to discern my person in the form of its celestial person, my "angel",  my own person must participate in creation creatively. 


see also

Jennifer Selig and her article on archetypal creators
http://blog.pacifica.edu/pound-your-chest-everyone-part-ii-creator-archetype?utm_campaign=DJA&utm_content=10636625&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter 


Tuesday, December 23, 2014

THREE SPIRITS FATHERING CHRISTMAS
























THREE SPIRITS


[e]M Body, what she dreams of living
EROS points where

   **********


With each touch
Maggie's name dissolved

in blood where
"blood is good."

Between us,
"the blood is good," she said.

Yet, in language where it flowed "good"
she and I were parted.

O, the untouchable, nascent body, how it bled
how our virgin body fell between us

shade--spaced as if not enough mattered,
an expanding verse lay between us.

   **********


In embodied body
when blood is good

O
shapes presence still & O

namelessly placed, does matter.




©2014 Old Long Since (But Should Old Acquaintance Be forgot?) stephanie pope mythopoetry.com
#mythopoetics #AuldLangSyne #ChristmasSpirit


notes

from Myth & Culture Blog, Maggie Macary,”Telling My Story”, an excerpt from the blog, BloodInk, see  The Internet Archives

 http://web.archive.org/web/20020907171119/http://www.tellingmystory.com/OurStories/mmacary_bloodink.htm

[quote]
“Is my life created gunk? I wonder how much of what I remember is an artificial creamer used to delude me into thinking I’ve got something good here. I sip again on the ginger tea, and realize as it begins to heat the passage of my di-stressed digestive system, that all the memories of my life, all the bits and fragments and pieces that I think I’ve lost or forgotten or put away in the box with my old poems and old diaries, faded pictures and tattered greeting cards, are actually right here. They are present in the cells and the structure, the wounds and the scars of my exhausted body. All memory for me begins with my body, ends with my body, and circles around my body. There is no other story in my life except what is written in the structure of my body. I take another sip begin to wonder if I’m truly ready to speak. For so many years of my life, my voice was stilled and I felt strangulated. But those moments of strangulation felt somehow comforting and safe. No need for me to speak. No need for me to risk anything. There have been moments in my life when I lost my voice for days on end, unable to whisper a word, safe in a silence that held all the blood pounding inside me; a tight hold with no release. I recall other moments of my life getting comforted by a scarf tied tightly around my neck; the scarf somehow holding in a voice that I thought was too powerful, too destructive, too intense.
I held my intensity and my voice and my blood inside my body, and sat on the rocks of my own fevered imagination, gazing out at a barren ocean and mourning for a home that seemed lost forever. Until one day, I risked it all and dove in dark waters, determined to find my way home. For years, I swam and swam in that barren sea in desperate search for some little bit of truth about the tragedies of my life. At times, I thought I would give up, allowing the pieces of my life to fall like wreckage upon the waves. But some goddess always seemed to come through to save me. Some ancient female voice would whisper to me from the deep water, “The blood is good.” ~ Maggie Macary

[unquote]

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

AN INTERSTICE: NEW YEARS & "END" TIMES Mirthology 101

http://www.lillyarts.com/html/happynewyear.html
Happy 2013! Did you make your New Year's resolution yet? This year I promised myself I would continue my explorations into women and humor. As a poet-mythologer that means a mythopoetic exploration where psyche-making seems to open space between mirth and myth.

The idea came to me last evening during participation in a microblogging event, "Toast Pacifica" held for alumni of Pacifica Graduate Institute (see Pacifica Alumni) home to the collected works of Joseph Campbell, Marija Gimbutas, James Hillman, Christine Downing, and others. You can visit a full listing of names and collected works by visiting OPUS Archives on line.


 2013: Why Mirth
What is it about mythic imagination and the need for mirth? Could it be somehow that myth's birth and mirth's birth coincide in the same monadic space in imaginal mind? I've already started looking at this early mental matrix.

Mirth's name accorded western psyche in mythic imagination is Euphrosyne. She is one of three Graces or Charites. According to Timothy Ganz she forms, along with her sisters, Aglaia and Thalia, the diaphanous robe surrounding the goddess Aphrodite. (Early Greek Myth, vol. 1 p. 54)

Sure sounds like something archetypally in-formed to me. Perhaps 2013 has all the makings of a "nude" year after all!  If so, the imaginal term coined last night by @Pacifica Alumni, "arsechetypal" has left a just-right imprint to further explore―traces of the old "end-times" along with specular, simulated "spectacular" simulacra, images like the simultaneously unfolding, eleventh hour "fiscal cliff" negotiations. These are left "behind" as the new year begins. These seemings seam traces in poetic psyche's myth-making, fun-loving, festival animal as the old year vanishes into late night, New Year, Toast Pacifica tweets. 

In a salute to 2013 now, here's to naked Beauty and the gracefully mythopoetic, circle dancer, Mirth who traced the dancing imprint last night in PJ's EROS and the knowing and loving underneath the blue boy's timely trinitarian invocation. Here's to the winged "makers", mythoplokon, weavers of soul-making everywhere!

Furthermore, here's to beginnings in endings; here's to simulacra, simulation and fictionalizing arsechetypes.

Out with the old, in with the nude!

Happy Nude Year, Everybody!
©2013 stephanie pope, mythopoetry.com