2001-08-14 - 6:19 p.m. - poemata_mala3

Click here if you came just for the poetica-collab entry for the month of August 2001.

I had another rehearsal today with my pianist, which went pretty well. I'm beginning to feel better, although I know this will turn out "good for my age." My teacher is inviting his teacher (maybe not his first teacher, but somewhere up there); we'll see how that goes. Nerves? Hah. They're already shot. I mean, yesterday I got in an argument (two?) with one of my friends - basically, we can sort of deal with it when one of us is in an awful (read: crisis) mood, but all civility breaks down when we're both having bad days (probably relates to my coping technique, which is probably best described as "act-like-a-cornered-animal-and-claw-at-the-world-releasing-another-two-weeks'-worth-of-repressed-anger.") On the other hand, I did go out to see a nice, feel-good movie with my friends the other day at the Castro theater- The Adventures of Felix. It wasn't bad; I might consider seeing it again someday, and at any rate it was better than the last thing I saw at that theater (my friend and I emerged from that somewhat scarred by the experience). It did, however, serve only to underscore for me the fact that everybody my age seems to be dating or otherwise attached, and even if it is all impermanent, I started feeling like a worthless, unmarketable piece of soon-to-be-rotting flesh.

Not exactly the best way to cheer myself up. I mean, god knows my friends try (like: "Aw, Jeremy, you'll find someone someday. He'll be cute, talented, smart, kind, compassionate, and he won't cheat on you..." which goes on, and thanks, because it sounds nice, but again, there's a pesky issue of belief here, namely: I don't believe that. I mean, it sounds ludicrous. Me? End up with someone like that? Ha. But she tried.)

Did I mention that the concert is bringing with it an incredible amount of stress?

I'm going to try to make a bulleted list here- this is a list of languages that I want, eventually, to learn.

• Arabic

• Basque

• Chinese (the 2/3 I still don't understand of speech, and the 9/10 I still can't read - Mandarin, of course)

• Czech

• Dutch

• French (accompanied by pipe dreams of running off to a little village in France to become a kimchi-maker. Ha.)

• Gaelic

• German

• Ancient Greek

• Hebrew

• Hungarian

• Japanese (maybe, and if I get here I'll try Korean as well.)

• Latin (working on it)

• Old English (thanks, donkeylady)

• Polish

• Portuguese

• Romansch

• Russian

• Sanskrit

• Swedish (and Icelandic, and Danish...)

• Welsh

Will I have time for all of these? Certainly not, but it's still something to work for. And hey - being a diplomat does in fact interest me. Although I'd need to brush up on some people skills. Random note: the jobs I think about now fall into three categories - government jobs, teaching, orchestras.

Oh, I finally got my poetica-collab entries figured out, I guess. Small edits might appear, but these are the rough-work things, edited only a few times. One poem is on a picture; both poem and picture will appear at the bottom of the entry, while another (half-formed and contemptible) is on "imaginations" and follows below. The former is in six sections, the latter in two.

discovery

I

in flashes the long-sought revelation comes-
in a myriad of tongues and thoughts
flavored with exotic spices from lands beyond:
only glimpses are allowed me
of you, vain mnemosyne-spawn
so many things and yet so few-
sausage-fingers set the music of the spheres in ink
as you whisper, crooning, motherly-

II

from what Pythian gases do you draw strength
descend in opium clouds and dreams of butterflies
what makes you the all-to-all?
it's then, as you in haste depart
offended - such questioning!
and whirl your iridescent cloak
that i catch you vanishing - within-

shade

1

You don't know me.
when you look
you see my hair
my tattoo.

2

But you don't see
the grief locked within:
you don't see the girl I loved-
no, you don't see it
though she dances for me
and you stare-

3

You think I worship Thanatos
when my dues are to Life.
Death was once friend of mine
but:

4

She took me away from him-
gave me life for death
Vishnu for Shiva:
but Death was cold and jealous-
he punished my apostasy-

5

They took her in winter,
not caring that she loved
seeing only Bengali-
disposed of her broken in a rubbish-bin
and so:

6

Each Friday I make pilgrimage
remember for her
what we had what we lost
here
where her blood stained a street-dark alley, death's haunt-
flowers, a cenotaph, anguish:
once death drowns out life,
I've forgotten how to live