Restless Soma
Old World (public) => Poems => Topic started by: Jaharkta on December 05, 2008, 04:02:40 PM
-
I create silences
Dar Óma
I create silences
wherever I go
in silence You come to me
I close my eyes and ears
to worlds
my lips
if people ask for directions
I point to the gibbous moon
when asked how I am
I smile the cusp of an eclipse
should someone ask the time
they’ll see in my eyes
it is Dar Óma time
to pray
and to praise
all of creation
is getting in the mood
insects flit silently
movement
but no rustle from trees
I cannot hear my heartbeat
in a distant land
You move noiselessly
sunlight briefly strokes the haggard face of a mountain
a hare cocks his ears
You listen
Gabriel Rosenstock
Contemporary Ireland
from Uttering Her Name
Dar Óma, a Celtic goddess, daughter of OGHMA who gave the gift of writing to the Celts. The communication to Dar Óma at times seems addressed to an impersonal God(dess) and, at others, to someone immediate, felt, touched. Gabriel Rosenstock describes the work as neo-bhakti and, indeed, it has a strong feel of some of the great bhakti poetry, like that of Mirabai.
-
Dar Óma
I have written a symphony for You
You should hear it
You probably never will
I'm having fierce trouble
with the orchestra
the triangle player
reminds me
rather sternly
that there are only three sides
to a triangle
the lead violinist shrieks
<you have notes here
that do not exist!>
I blush and stammer
<well, do the best you can ...>
<what do you mean softly?>
complains the cymbalist
<cymbals clash and that is that!>
oh, I don't know,
I fear it may never be heard
unless I perform it all on my own
~Gabriel Rosenstock
Uttering Her Name
-
Dar Óma
You are not yet of my time
we do not eat together
sleep together
rise together
I will get up three hundred hours earlier
make toast in the middle of the night
smother it with honey
the moon will look in the window
curiously
out on the street
an urban fox
scavenging
his tail catching
the first light of dawn
Gabriel Rosenstock
Uttering her name
-
~
Beautiful!
Dar Óma
You are not yet of my time
we do not eat together
sleep together
rise together
I will get up three hundred hours earlier
make toast in the middle of the night
smother it with honey
the moon will look in the window
curiously
out on the street
an urban fox
scavenging
his tail catching
the first light of dawn
Gabriel Rosenstock
Uttering her name
Now I know where that cranky old fart got that line! I never knew he read poetry! Heh...
"If your ass isn't catching the first light of dawn, bla, bla, bla...."
Good disciplinarian though, I must admit ;)
z
-
Dar Óma
I could cut myself off
from the world of men
but not of crows
I cannot recall a time
not being of the crow nation
the way they fly alone
and assemble
their silence
a disused well
in the distance
near at hand –
that’s me
the one that’s left behind
brazen in the morning
they rule evening time
painting their shadows on roofs
they hide
practise ventriloquism
expose tail feathers
say <here I am>
I try not to eavesdrop
on their intimate conversations
but am drawn in
Crow - You see -
battle cry, lullaby, lament,
subtleties of grammar, nuance,
Crow is my first language
Gabriel Rosenstock
Uttering Her Name
-
:)
-
Dar Óma
I come knocking at Your door
and say I’m here to check the -
mutter something
You let me in
will you be long? You ask
an eternity
I mumble under my breath
and begin probing walls
with a stethoscope
Your eyes grow large
what exactly do you think you’re doing
You enquire, melodiously,
in a voice that will never die
I sigh something about trapped voices
in walls
prayers in the middle of the night
songs that nobody sings any more
I can hear something, I say,
a macaw, possibly,
but You are already on the phone
the police aren’t all that bad
they allow me listen to prison walls
and grin when I recite aloud
the lost sonnets of the damned
Gabriel Rosenstock
Uttering Her Name
-
Dar Óma
I dreamt
I’d been to the ends of the earth
not to seek You
to avoid You
armed with talismans
I drew a circle with white chalk
a protection against Your smile
an inner circle with red chalk
against Your mouth
I gibbered in lost languages
the air was thick
with cabalistic formulae
then I heard You singing
shape-shifting
I became whiskered rat
You looked away
when You looked again
I was barn-owl
descending on rat
then I flew
for a day and a night
and came to a dark place
an even darker time
that time and place
before we met
GR
Uttering Her Name