Didascalie
(Dreams of a him rising, a rising hymn of Him. A he-swagger and thrust. And by Him beheld. Ancient strength of stones, endless wash and spray of fatherlover sea befairing Her. Yes but no! She is without and within withallready Her. Yes but no! Forwith Him two she is too. Yes but no! Forto Him she is giving of Her. And receiving. Arising a hymn of Him: Ça monte! Ça monte! Ça monte! It’s her song to sing now.)
Episode 36 (Bosquet)
Bamboo in the tallness grove instills
where freshly she intends.
An answer
stepping into
her:
Looking here a fall rustle
dryly and shoots,
here too a look
hollowing into crisp shortness
where a sundapple groove
is her am.
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Amy Hollowell is a poet, journalist and Zen teacher who lives in Paris. Her writing has appeared in a number of publications in Europe and the United States, including Big Bridge, Diner, Fourteen Hills, LUNGFULL and Tricycle, and she has new work in Upstairs at Duroc Issue 9. She is a former editor of the Paris-based review Pharos and the author of a book-length poetic work, Peneloping: Episodes in the Day of She, from which Episode 36 (Bosquet) is excerpted. In 2004, she founded the Paris-based Wild Flower Zen community. She is currently writing an experiential study of James Joyce’s Ulysses. Her writing and teaching can be followed on the Web at zenscribe.
This is part of a series of poems from invited poets. Previous contributors were Luke Heeley, Joe Ross, George Szirtes, Elizabeth Spackman, Ivy Alvarez, Rufo Quintavalle, Todd Swift, Michelle Noteboom, Beverley Bie Brahic and Ethan Gilsdorf. Illustration by Jonathan Wonham.
5 comments:
And Happy Christmas to you too Jonathan! Thanks for your message for me. I am still around just not very active as I feel the potential to become addicted and have too many things to do to become that!
I still visit you from time to time.
X
'An answer
stepping into
her:'
The image makes me smile.
Quite a find, Jonathan. The debt to Joyce is apparent, but this is striking stuff.
It is striking indeed, and intriguing. Part of me thinks it could almost be a joke, or could fall into self-parody, or it's something randomly generated or scrambled. Is this the same feeling of doubt as when the emperor strode by stark naked, or is the limitation mine?
But then odd things jump out, like 'a look
hollowing into crisp shortness' which makes me think, yes I like that!
I'm also genuinely intrigued, feel there's something I want to get at, so I think I'll head over to the zenscribe site and have a closer look!
Thanks to you all for your comments. Two readers quoting from the poem. Must be a good sign.
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