Thursday, July 21, 2011

Love Poem for the Interior Paramour

Gustave Courbet - Lovers in the Country, Sentiments of the Young Age - WGA05484


"Light the first light of evening, as in a room
In which we rest and, for small reason, think
The world imagined is the ultimate good.

This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous.
It is in that thought that we collect ourselves,
Out of all the indifferences, into one thing
..."
~from Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour,
by Wallace Stevens


Love Poem
for the Interior Paramour


Beneath the bald stare of
the filigreed moon we meet
for our invisible rendezvous,
the interior paramour and I.

So malleable, so attuned; so mine
his liquid compliance, fluid flip
of a fish's tail, splashing away
the dusty day, the burned char of it.

He listens solemnly sometimes
to the lilt and lift of my tenderest
telling, sometimes with that laugh
that cracks open the heart

to show a sweet pecan sauced
in dark molasses night,
a ripe peach that punctures
under a passing thumb.

I walk out for him my shadow 
days, my endless nights, I lift my 
glass to him under the moonblinded sky
and feel his lips, warm and dry

take the wet wafer from my ruby tongue.
Then he gives his murmured benison,
heartborne through each stained glass lumenal,
a conduit parsing my promises into light

kindling his ageless face
as he reads the breviary of our love
prayer by prayer in the dark,
each of these saying: this is enough.

July 2011







"Out of this same light, out of the central mind,
We make a dwelling in the evening air,
In which being there together is enough."
~Ibid



Image: Lovers in the Country, Gustave Courbet, circa 1844 Oil on canvas
courtesy wikimedia commons


17 comments:

  1. I like that you know that being alone is not of a necessity loneliness. At least that's what the voices in my head tell me {8-O}---

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  2. Absolutely outstanding... this is love... what else?

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  3. a sweet pecan sauced in dark molasses night...that is a beautiful picture....lips taking the wet wafer from the tongue is nice as well...i leave feeling content...

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  4. Is it? The whole scene seems like it could blow away on a sudden breeze. (That's not to say it isn't beautifully written...it is.)

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  5. The imagery of the pecan is just amazing.

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  6. Oh endlessly sweet, drenched in a soul-mate's scent of wonder and rapture ... I think you know my thoughts on the interior paraomour - that all poetry is in some way love-song to this numinous figure who resides exactly where s/he can never be found Out There -- deep in our own heart or psyche. Separating this paramour from all the mortal faces we project h/her on is the truest liberation, freeing the mortal beloved from the bondage to an idea and allowing us to freely sing and play and animate that inward love so that it suffuses our words without suffocating the world. Every stanza is perfect but the final one presses it all in the eternal book we write, page by page, of that wild rage for love which sates by not quenching in any bed on earth. Nine times nine throbbing hearts. - Brendan

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  7. First I realize it's a lot of cheek on my part to set my beginner's poem on the same page with one of Steven's finest pieces, but I felt that to understand what I'd written, the excerpts of the poem that illuminated mine should be given for anyone not familiar with the work.

    @twm: Thanks Mark. I'm seldom lonely with myself anymore, and it's a great blessing indeed. but it's taken a long time to get to that place.

    @MZ, Dulce & Brian: Thanks for reading and enjoying the sweets.

    @FB: The scene is summoned by the self, only the self untying can blow it away, if you get me. What's inside can never leave you, divorce you, be stolen from you,or even driven away-- only be transformed. Or so it's been for me.

    @Brendan: Yes.It's such an amazing realization to see that all along what one has been chasing, trying to score from the pusher on the next corner, is really already there, in its purest, strongest form, with the heaviest rush, and also the most cerebral, completing one. Your own poems on this subject have been incredibly freeing and helpful, so the 81 hearts beat as one in your direction as well. I really wanted to illustrate this with a picture of a man(a sort of anime figure)lifting a woman up and holding her suspended, but I searched the art world in vain. The female version of the paramour is a lot easier to come by. This one came close, with it's sense of two joined entities in the dark. Thanks for reading and understanding.

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  8. A very lovely ode to love ....thanks for the additional notes in your comments.

    I too love these lines:

    to show a sweet pecan sauced
    in dark molasses night,
    a ripe peach that punctures
    under a passing thumb.

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  9. Absolutely glorious. I especially love the filigreed moon. And the last two lines are Perfection.

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  10. Yeesh. I meant animus, not anime! My brain is melting in the heat. The day I post an anime figure of anything, someone please come check my basement for pods.

    Thanks Heaven and Sherry, for stopping by and reading today.

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  11. Wonderful, engrossing versifying and tale-telling

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  12. Me and my interior paramour are in love with this poem. You had me at the flipping fish's tail.

    Loved what Brendan wrote, and you in response.

    You may be cheeky to put Stevens' poem on the same page, but it really does help to understand, and yours is every bit as grand. I wasn't familiar with the Stevens poem, so I appreciate it much.

    Gorgeous, gorgeous. Sensual, replete, and those last words, oh yes. this is enough.

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  13. @Ruth: Thanks for reading. I'm glad you liked this. My muse is generally a dark one, and there are plenty of reasons for it, but I so envy the way yours sees the light, and if I can reflect a bit of light in my effort to find it myself, I'm happy.

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  14. I too am besotted with your poem. You accomplish art with your dialogue. The poem traverses time, creating alters in the empyrean, where you and Wallace, now that you’ve fallen in love through poetry, can commune.

    “…but the artist appeals to that part of our being which is not dependent on wisdom: to that in us which is not an acquisition – and, therefore, more permanently enduring. He speaks to our capacity for delight and wonder, to our sense of pity, and beauty, and pain: to latent feeling of fellowship with all creation – and to the subtle but invincible conviction of solidarity that knits together the loneliness of innumerable hearts, to the solidarity in dreams, in joy, in sorrow, in aspirations, in illusions, in hopes, in fear, which binds men to each other, which binds together all humanity – the dead to the living and the living to the unborn.” – Joseph Conrad

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  15. @Anna: Thanks so much. I really like the Conrad quote. Hope you don't mind if I put it on my sidebar, and thanks for bringing it to my attention. That first line is a poem in itself--"to that in us which is not an acquisition." And the lines about solidarity definitely ring through to this particular poem. Thank you.

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  16. I'm so happy you liked it; I had a revelation after reading your work and wanted to give something back.

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  17. this piece, and all its vapours
    takes me away his morning
    well done, well written
    thanx for sharing

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg