This is a poem that a guy I used to work with wrote to me. Funny old thing, life. We worked together for a couple of years, and he claims to have been watching me, but I don’t think he looked at me too closely. Not only did he say I was beautiful, but also, my eyes are definitely not blue. The poem itself is lovely.
‘there’s something about PoetryGrrrl…
a snatch of ultraviolet against the sunset and rust’
The mark of Ansuz burning in your chest
The surface of your eyes and heart on fire
Your beauty blinds me with astral pains, my truth a lie
Stars shine black against an October amber sky
The morning that I saw you, I couldn’t sleep that night
My heart exploding like a moth caught in a nuclear flame
The way you walk, the way you smile, the way you wave to me
Your hand inviting thoughts – tragic denial
And when you toss your sunset hair
Across the full moon of your face
Antigone, you seem to be (you seem to me) a memory
A thousand times I tell myself
To look away, but my gaze stays
Mesmerized by soft blue eyes
Reflecting everything I’ve always dreamed I’d be
Quelque chose de
Quelque chose de
PoetryGrrrl, une bribe d’ultra-violet
Un jour chez les chevaux
De monte faits rouille, de coucher du soleil
Un jour chez les chevaux quelque part de monet faits en chouche du soleil
The following notes were also written with the poem he gave me, and were his own thoughts, typos and all.
I know it’s wrong to comment on your own poetry, but I feel in the mood. Antigone, as a four sylable name, is the name of a heroine of Greek tragedy. Antigone, as a three sylable word, is the symbol of obsession. Imagine, if you will, something that will not go away. Like a record stuck in your head. Camille Paglia believed that obsession is a natural part of what it means to be a male – and to be a nessesary component of genious. I certainly hope so. Anti-gone… that which never goes away. Obsession is the purest form of worship. It is not the desire to have anything that the person possesses – it is the desire to own the essence of that person themselves.
And me, am I obsessed? Poetry feeds on emotions. Emotions thrash around in the head, forming words, until they just -have- to get out. Poetry is the very language of obsession.
Ansuz is the fourth rune of the Nordic ‘Futhark’. In divination, Ansuz inspires you and makes you want to get on with the work at hand. To quote a website on runes – ‘Any time you experience anything that embodies real, down-to-earth goodness, whether it be a good meal, a good cup of coffee, a good book, or good sex, you can perceive in it something of the Norse Gods and the Ansuz Rune.’