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14 January 2019 – The One -First Movement (Arriving) continued / Song 1 (Dark Waters) #2

Welcome back to The One, an Odyssey of an (extra)ordinary person from birth to . . . well, I won’t be blamed for a spoiler alert. If you haven’t read the first installment of this epic poem posted on 7 January 2019, you may want to do so prior to reading today’s post which offers the continuation of Song 1, “Dark Waters,” the second of three installments of this first Song. If you didn’t read the first segment last week, you may want to read the introduction in the post to orient yourself to where we’re “going.”

In the near future, we will construct a separate blog for The One where the entire poem will gradually be posted, but without the commentary (introduction, background, exploration) that may exist all, or in part, in the original posting.

To repeat what I said last week, my work is greatly influenced by Homer’s epic concerning Odysseus’ return home to Ithaca after the war in Troy. Like the protagonist of The One, adventures, challenges, and sweet moments occur throughout the work. Consider this literary work an attempt to capture both the individual experience as well as the perennial common journey we all share. The only distinguishing factor between the “ordinary” person, and the “extraordinary one,” is that the latter is open to the unknown, confident in innate abilities to experience that unknown, and ready to accept the wisdom that comes from both. Always, always, the ordinary person can transform into an extraordinary being.

I have a request for those who are reading this epic seriously: Please let me know whether or not the “Explorations” that I included with every poetry post in 2018 were helpful, and whether or not you would like similar “Explorations” in The One’s posts. If I don’t hear otherwise, I will exclude or include these in the interest of carrying on a dialogue in the comments function of the Wannaskan Almanac and possibility adding opportunities for interpretations.

In the continuation of Song 1 below, “the one” continues the initial journey that each one of us experiences. By now, you have probably identified the nature and location of this part of the journey. If not, you may want to re-read the first installment after completing this week’s post. That’s up to you. In any case, I appreciate your interest, and your willingness to read this far.



Song 1, “Dark Waters,” continued below . . .

One day unlike other days         I’m curious
about the pressure cloaking me urging
a release – a passage out and upward
I uncinch the tightness – begin to shape 
            releasing an opened-gate roar pressing 
against the void, opposing water’s weight

                                                            I AM
Silence counters                                   inhaled breath under sea
A cold pause        rocking          no sound returning
no echo                        no answer         no signs for me
A moment longer the lull holds in breath
Now a distant high-pitched homing beacon
radiates and searches out, re-sounding
                                                YOU ARE

Tone arrives hypnotic - open-mouthed I 
bite down hard on Sound and signal strong that
                                                I AM HERE

                        Aghast! Asudden! I’m whipped, pulled and dragged
                                    caught on a deep line - hook buried inside
                                    my throat newly spouted - voice now a roar
                                                “Re-member     Re-member
                                                  WHO YOU ARE        YOU ARE”
                        Watery lifting – no end I can see
                                    Waves, wind, shadows and light blur into one
                                    rushing water’s deep moan all that exists
                                                Something forgotten
                                                Re-membering undone
                                    Only the great Sound delivering me 
in one long red cadence striking on sea

                        The sound and now brightness swallow me whole
                                    searing, flaming and scorching volcanic
                                    rivers    streaming          into me                        into me
                                                down   down   and deep – stars too deep for my reach
                                                                                                                        

                        Now a wrench and a pull – sucked into air
                                    ripped from sea face, wriggling, dangling aloft
                                                choking-breath spasms, arched from grave to sky
                                    flung down in wet chasm – known       dark                 alive
They circle around me gathering, eyes stare
Others of dark waters stand in the light
            I gulp and I choke on fiery air
            I wince and retreat from light – Oh, such light!
                                    I lie worn-out among them        among them        
and with them
                                                            and with them                          now of them

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                        My skin feels wet with cold draped across fetid
                                    gray slope, fog-immersed and falling into
                                    frigid openness where bitter sea- fluid
                                    cloaks my bare skin turning icy-rigid

                        I make quick swimming strokes with arms and legs
                                    but there’s no water and I’m falling free
                                    deep into my rising wail for the sea
                                                long away and receding into memory 

                        Water fantasies fade – flight ebbs and fails
                                    retreating tide effervesces a trail
                                                I ache to grow fingers and claw my way back                 
                        My breath-held waiting and sound’s foundation sinking 
                                    warm rain begins to fall washing away 
the last of the sound, the last of the sea

            I’m all-forgetting           someone else                            not me

Next: Final Part of “Song One” . . . to be continued . . .

Explorations:
1. At this point, is the nature of the event in this part of the epic poem becoming clear, or is it still ambiguous? Neither way is right/wrong or especially not good/bad. Just what does your intuition, if not evidence, tell you is happening up to this point.
2. Are the events of this Song happening to the narrator? How much is the narrator in control of what is happening?
3. Can you make out/interpret what the repetitive mention of “sound” could be? Is it more than one person, place or thing?

















Comments

  1. So excited to see this project in the light! I will be tuning in for the weekly installments.

    I like the exploration questions - as long as they're short. They help suss out the meaning of the poems, some of which are more nuanced than others.

    I would recommend back links in your introduction where you encourage or invite readers to catch up by catching your first installment. This is user-friendly navigation.

    Back to the poem - I love the imagery. I understand that it's the POV of a baby being birthed. I love the tussle between the call to remember (and the language and subtle shift of "re-member") and the pull of nature's forgetting.

    I feel the sound and comfort of the womb and feel the shock with the baby when born. Baby has little control of what is happening. One of my favorite lines:

    I make quick swimming strokes with arms and legs
    but there’s no water and I’m falling free
    deep into my rising wail for the sea
    long away and receding into memory

    ReplyDelete
  2. 3. The Sound is mysterious. A metaphor for this World you are now entering?
    2. Sounds like it's happening to the Narrator. The only control is remembering, which gets pushed to the background for later retrieval.

    ReplyDelete

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