Long Ecstatic Poems
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Sappho Translations I
Sappho, fragment 132 (Lobel-Page 132)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
1.
I have a delightful daughter
fairer than the fairest flowers, Cleis,
whom I cherish more than all Lydia and lovely Lesbos.
2.
I have a lovely daughter
with a face like the fairest flowers,
my beloved Cleis …
It bears noting that Sappho mentions her daughter and brothers, but not her husband. We do not know if this means she was unmarried, because so many of her verses have been lost.
Sappho, fragment 131 (Lobel-Page 131)
loose translations/interpretations by Michael R. Burch
1.
You reject me, Attis,
as if you find me distasteful,
flitting off to Andromeda ...
2.
Attis, you forsake me
and flit off to Andromeda ...
Sappho, fragment 140 (Lobel-Page 140)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
He is dying, Cytherea, the delicate Adonis.
What shall we lovers do?
Rip off your clothes, bare your breasts and abuse them!
Sappho, fragment 36
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Vain woman, foolish thing!
Do you base your worth on a ring?
Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
May the gods prolong the night
—yes, let it last forever!—
as long as you sleep in my sight.
... a sweet-voiced maiden ...
—Sappho, fragment 153, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I have the most childlike heart ...
—Sappho, fragment 120, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
There was no dance,
no sacred dalliance,
from which we were absent.
—Sappho, fragment 19, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I love the sensual
as I love the sun’s ecstatic brilliance.
—Sappho, fragment 9, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I love the sensual
as I love the sun’s splendor.
—Sappho, fragment 9, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
You anointed yourself
with most exquisite perfume.
—Sappho, fragment 19, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Awed by the moon’s splendor,
stars covered their undistinguished faces.
Even so, we.
—Sappho, fragment 34, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: Sappho, Lesbos, Greek, translation, epigram, epigrams, love, sex, desire, passion, lust, lesbian, LGBTQ
A new dawn,
Unveiled hopes and surreal ecstatic.
The smiles on their faces,
Heralded news,
The folks were delighted.
It was worth every ounce of struggle.
Though, a dilemma.
Afraid of separation.
Yet, desperate to experience the journey.
The ambience compelled me.
I was finally seen off,
I was on a voyage to satisfy nature's balance.
Now I learned the way of flying.
They had fed me once, now the tables had turned.
The man I was had been called a coward.
They celebrated my bravery now.
Decorated badges shone and made them proud.
I lost one and two things to earn it.
Was it really worth it?
The grasp of my anxiety grew.
On a bright sunny day,
I was summoned by a great war.
The fallen heroes' cries haunted me,
They never let me close my eyes.
Though I dodged death,
My mates did not.
When consciousness returned.
A stream of blood filled my sight.
Decapitated bodies, blasted arms,
Eyes bulging out of their sockets,
The fallen were the luckiest.
One who lived was burning in hell.
Men begged me to put an end to their agony.
Our eyes shed blood,
Tears dried out.
I wished to shoot my brains out too.
The nefarious haunted site was too much to bear.
"I couldn't" I cried ....
A bullet shell dropped beside me.
I had killed my own man, or had I helped him?
His heart wide opened, and my shank.
My shin mangled, my eardrums burst.
"Medic! Medic! Medic!"
A few men rushed and took me away.
I only saw them talking but heard no word.
Certainly they would cut it.
The pain fainted me right away.
A chunk of metal cost me a leg.
What would a hurt man do?
Run away to his folks.
So did I.
The smile on their faces now faded.
They hardly talked about their dream again.
Blames encompassed a loop.
Still celebrated as a hero.
The shell-shock and vivid imagery of the war,
Ran through my mind every now and then.
I never slept again.
Trapped inside a war I had never waged.
It had now changed my periphery of life.
I despised it.
The fallen were the luckiest.
I couldn't even stand on my own.
I barely opened my mouth, only to be fed.
There it hangs, my greatest achievement,
So the folks claimed.
Why did I live in guilt then?
Was it to hide my sins,
Or to make me feel proud?
The barrage of questions and bullets,
Never left my conscience.
I may have quit the war,
It still ran inside my head.
Written: December 02, 2023
Quote "Without birth and death, and without the perpetual transmutation of all the forms of life, the world would be static, rhythm-less, undancing, mummified." Alan Watts
________________________________________
“we woke up early one morn, ego shorn
it felt as though we were in form reborn
nodes within stirred, boundaries blurred
our head and heart, with love concurred”
I deploy discursive divine depiction as a guide.
A gateway to Genesis, where it takes its side.
Unbridled and untamed, my voice may rise.
I pursued knowledge out of pure surprise.
Low-frequency vibes induce a shift in shape.
Scarcity leads to transmutation, of spare scape.
Alchemists transmute leads to sacred gold.
Metal sheds its genius luster in the kiln hold.
I waltz freely with doom in the gloom.
I inhale oxygen to marvel at life's bloom.
I endure steps yet disappear in the dream.
Structure is unaffected by the skill stream.
Love is my soul—my reason for existence.
Living in lavish love is a lifelong vow of diligence.
A mind, weaved with such insight, was so warm.
I flaunt my firm frame in this fabulous form.
When you are feeling opulent and egotistical.
Those who are dominant were miscible.
Departure might induce an unfillable hole.
Descry a suitable way to purify your soul.
There are ecstatic and tragic days, love and hate.
No matter how tough we strive, this will be our fate.
Note how sporadic and fleeting life is; spot the stride.
Our days of tribulation bruised our noble pride!
Rather than succumbing to hatred and rage.
Turning negative into a rising trend of assuage
Let trust and troth tackle tricks and malicious
Such a restrained demeanor is truly auspicious.
Within, most consensus spans are wide.
It's all whim; scatter love and watch it glide.
Trust your scintilla—trek to the boundless sea.
We may all profit from sowing wisdom trees.
Conquered the most-dubbed landmass on Earth.
And yearning to discover raw levels of worth!
Death, then delirious with deceit, drove his life.
A wicked beast embedded himself in strife!
A susurrus sparkle to the shimmering love.
Enhances adieu strut below the moon above.
Breeze says, "Love on, my dear, and dance."
Across the trees, a gentle man's glance.
As mortal veils dissolved, our bodies merged in the ossuary's somber symphonies, two mistress awakened by the velvet-wrapped cadavers, our disinvested hands tracing syllabic patterns across the olive verdure of our skin, as maelstroms of lipstick tormented our intimate geometry. Kissing amidst ribcages and scavenged lullabies, our filial ***** tingled with an unresolved finitude, lost choruses awaking from armature wounds as compatibilities laid bare.
The azure gemstones of our sweat-drenched pores harmonized with the relics scattered about us, a Kolossus of Korova consumed by the clingy threads of our detachment. Quivering heartbeats elevated the ambiance, suspending the predisposition of neglect, while scratches on the cryptic monument inscribed our entwined destiny. I sulfured lips, poised at the sorceress-close mic.
A snarl-like grin spread like a firebrand, smoldering with provocative ferocity as I ravished the venue with tongue-flicked promises, conjuring the haunted echoes of our ecstatic love. Ghosts of our abandoning, whispers of our surrendered reveries, and shadowy allusions to lost frenzies began to undulate, like an eerie tide, through every crevice and cavity of the place, leaving only the acrid tang of our desire and the spectral whisper of "evermore".
Laughter and teardrops entwined like conspirators, as our kidnapped captives, vacant-eyed and warily bound, cringed within their gilded cages, their suffocated pleas dissolving into silken suppliance, amidst this twilight tableaux pyxis o madness, we beheld each other, our psuches conflated in a whirlwind of circumstance and whimsy, our gazes piercing the veil of regalities, and our breasts, beating in tandem, like a tempo of tender complicity.
Fore in that golden instant, innocence and abomination, zero and infinity, coalesced, and we knew, without equivocation, that ours was an amour born of estrangement, grotesquery, and co-creativity. In the subterranean realm of our laughter, a spangled whirlpool stirred, drawing all else, including reason, into its poisoned vortex, as we whispered, like doomed refugees, into the bitter wind, "pour l'amour de tous les diables".
Fervently the serrated teeth on the saw rang the death knell, twisting countenance rictus, then close casket, we heard wedding bells, as we crafted a hellhole requiem of faceless visages.
Boom.
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Love is an ocean never-ending
Drink from it
You will be delirious
When the fever of love engulfs
You will be frenzied
Coherently incoherent
At times
Love is an ocean , drink from it
It is not salty but
Luksweet
Half sweet like a peach
An apple an avocado
I think of you
When the sun peeps and yellow.ascends
I feel you your kindness and compassion
Your love your passion your tenderness
Your idiosyncrasies your temperament
Patterns your composite intricacies
I know
I think of you when the sun touches
The dews on the sleeping leaves
Photosynthesis for my soul
You
Drink from it
You will be ecstatic euphoric
Elated I promise
Love is an ocean
Love is a synonym for god
It is every where omnipresent
It is in the air
I feel it
I am in the inferno
Love is rain
Colorless odourless tasteless
It is a catalyst
Neither looses nor gain but enhances
It is given
Most complain some understands
A few enjoy
That is their
destiny.
I think of you when the sun it at its peak
When every pour in my skin secrete
The aroma of your innocence
I breathe
You swirl around like a funnel cloud
Sucking into its lure your exquisite
Touch I am at peace
Love blossoms in the winter too
Breaks the thread of your silent t beads
Love is not a mirage
Opens the locks of your camouflaged
longings
Love is cool love is blue
Yellow green pink violet purple
Love is red like blood
Excuse me but lady you needs glasses.
And so does mrs justice over there
Both you broads are blind as bats
Stumbling through the system
Justice bumped into bulbous and
Tripping on republic of plato
But stepped right over a
Killed little black ant
,I am moving to a new abode
Abode, ? what is that”
It is to dwell reside
In a particular condition attitude
Relationships frequencies
To endure to sustain in a different
Realm of infinite possibilities
“ I don’t understand
“ No comprendo,por favour
Habla des pacio,please
Speak slowly
Her eyes were brimming with
Blue tears about to fall
Down
Form:
Metamorphosis: a word for butterflies,
Said the science textbook in school,
Positive transformations connoted her young soul.
Age brought in a new realisation,
Life, a one-way road with two destinies,
The darker one a metamorphosis too.
The endlessly bleak days,
Dwindling success,
Slipping confidence,
Broken dreams,
The road to change now a narrow old bridge,
Fragile and frail to support her lofty dreams,
Permanency etched in this new route,
Metamorphosis it was; not a passing phase.
Yet, butterflies her eyes chose to see,
Bright pupils midst tear streaked face,
Light shone on the narrow bridge,
Carefully she lugged her weight.
The caterpillar crawled, awkward and slow,
The bridge creaked, threatening to break,
Yet held on to this struggle everyday,
Patiently trudging to the light ahead.
Metamorphosis, still a double-edged sword,
All her struggles could tip her either way,
Yet, she chose the route with pain,
Trying to metaphorse yet again.
She knew it was a story of win or die,
A second dark metamorphosis she wouldn't survive,
Yet this turnaround she chose,
To gloomy life, she refused to bend.
Cocoon she became, the saddest soul alive,
Tears became her appetite,
Broken she was in a thousand pieces,
Her delicate spirit a ruined mess.
The pain made her numb and weak,
Shallow breaths and fiery cheeks,
She closed her eyes, her bright pupils gleaming,
She felt her soul float, she felt existence cease.
But, most of all she felt her eyes open,
Her lips curved a natural smile.
Wings she bore as beautiful and delicate as her spirit,
Her body she felt, weightless and symmetric,
Effortlessly, she flew upwards,
Gliding through the wind, peaceful and sound.
Embodiment she now was, of beauty and success and all things gold.
Bleak fluorescent rooms a thing of the past,
The bridge her metamorphosis, the pain her badge of honour,
She knew it was her destiny, sweet success and enchanting beauty,
She wasn't made for this toil and grub.
Yet, that was her life, the struggles and the pain.
She was now, an angelic dream,
A lover's ballad, a sailor's home.
She was a child's wish, a fairy tale,
A land of exotic fruits, a colourful maze.
She was a drug, an elixir of life,
An ecstatic dream, a virgin queen.
She exists as immortal bliss,
Her scent seaming all earthly souls.
I am reminded of the atheist who died. Or rather was presumably pronounced dead for a
short period of time, then revived. Upon waking, the atheist announced that he had gone
down the tunnel of white light, had seen his dead relatives and in fact met God. He must
have forgotten he didn’t believe in God. Together, perhaps in a city in the clouds or the
clouded foggy afterlife, God conversed with the atheist.
A crowd of people had gathered to hear what God had said.
“Did you ask God what the meaning of life was? ” people wanted to know.
“Did you ask God what the one true religion is? ” others wanted to know.
“Calm down! ” the atheist assured them.
“It just so happens, I asked each of those questions, ” the atheist concluded smugly.
“And? ” people demanded.
There was a pause as if the atheist was conducting the energy of God.
“God told me the meaning of life is…” the people braced for the answer, “Nothing, ” the
atheist said after a pause. He was ecstatic. The people were more than a little disheartened.
“Nothing, you mean there is no meaning to life? ” the people asked.
“Well, that’s one way of putting it, ” the atheist said laughing.
“Or another might mean nothing, as in, you get to make it up as you go along, ” the atheist
said smiling.
“It’s whatever you want it to be, ” the atheist explained.
The people did not seem to get it.
A few looked suicidal.
“Well, at least tell us the one true religion, ” the people demanded.
“Okay, ” the atheist assured them.
There was a pause again as if he was God’s instrument warming up.
“God told me the one true religion is…” the people braced for the answer, “Whichever one is
best for you, ” the atheist said confidently.
“You mean there is no true religion? ” the crowd shrieked.
“What are we going to do? ” the people asked starting to riot. They started to push and shove.
The people got really angry and violent, and they eventually tore the atheist apart. As the
atheist ascended to heaven he asked God how this could have been avoided.
God told the atheist, “There is only one way you could have avoided death…When the people
asked you what God said…you should have stuck to your guns and told them, ‘God…I don’t
believe in God.’”
Excerpt from: Blind Savior, False Prophet
Joseph DeMarco
If it's meant to be, then it will be
All I know is that I'm done killing myself over a fantasy
The way last year's nightmare,
Can becomes today's reality,
In the blink of an eye,
All under the same sky;
Thinking about it makes me wish to be high,
To forget my feelings and the sorrow they cause me,
Letting them momentarily fade away and die
Thinking about how this is what it has come to,
Brings forth from me a melancholic sigh
I should try showing my feelings the door,
Out of my heart, so that it isn't shattered further,
From a thousand pieces into a million pieces patterning the floor
From this insane rollercoaster of love,
My heart and mind are already sore,
Being optimistic these days,
Feels like a strenuous chore
I just want to feel as light as a feather
Hopelessly waiting for things to get better
Impatiently waiting for the storm to clear away,
Knowing it will leave my heart impervious as clay
There's nothing more left to do or say,
Other than remember how our end was imminent, clear as day
It isn't a crime to flirt,
But the reaction it will bring will only remind me,
That my feelings are worth nothing more than dirt
That doing so is a pointless effort,
Whose result will only get me hurt
Who would've thought I'd be resaving her contact name?
Who would've thought she'd be doing the same?
Who would've thought my love for her would become a beast I had to tame?
Necessitated by her leaving, as suddenly as she came
Before she did though, I knew I was playing a loosing game
Damn, this life is crazy
One minute, there's nothing but bliss and magic
Dwelling in mutual feelings discovered to be platonic,
The next, these feelings are one sided,
At that point, to the owner, they become toxic
I want to say 'there's no such thing as magic'
Preceded by 'If I'm being realistic,'
But; there is, I experienced it firsthand,
And it would be an understatement to simply say it had me ecstatic
It just happened to end, in a way I'd consider tragic
I remember when it did;
In the flow of my thoughts, there was great traffic,
Millions of thoughts honking at each other,
Crashing either into each other,
Or obstacles of confusion and pain
I remember how it felt as though I was going insane
Most of my days after that hardly saw the sun,
Just storms of thunder and rain
Eldest daughter – I Praise
Twenty two years ago
December twenty second,
two thousand eighteen
"star student" born
this papa (and most
likely thee birth mother)
initially felt ecstatic,
dramatic (yes frenetic),
and careworn
as freshly minted parents,
but gifted with a daughter,
whose existence far
more precious
than any Earthborn
rare widgets, gewgaws,
gems, et cetera, despite
evoking unsolicited,
unpleasant, and
unmanageable forlorn
communication "dirt poor"
living (at least ten years
of wretchedness at 1148
Greentree Lane) unable
to toot your horn,
cuz unbearable, undesirable,
unforgettable, et cetera,
and manifold challenged ,
when beloved Shana
Punim evinced inborn
developmental delay,
(which severe electric
koolaid acid test
patience of this father),
much more difficult
than playing krummhorn,
now after tendering the trials
and tribulations, an
amalgamation of
poignant affects,
whereat your
permanent presence...
(must never NOT precede mine),
cuz..., I would definitely mourn,
your absence, thus felt the timely
opportunity to dash off
a birthday poem to you
in tandem with sharing,
(while comfortably numb
and figuratively licking war
torn psychological wombs) - torn
and ripped, queued,
peppered natty psyche
pockmarked with scorn
from self, (and those lives,
this dada immediately
impacted) particularly
your person roar'n
with cumulative anger toward
this insightful fellow,
(who claims to know
what thee feel toward me),
especially when ****
hours of valuable
time, now caught
(say, eh...approximately, fraught
upon the half life of rare Earth
element Eden), not
just strictly naught
heard thru the grapevine,
but forcing Math (hew)
analysis, via meditation, poetry
writing therapy, et cetera.
Hence...I apologize,
asper unasked for pain wrought
thee, sans being unemployed,
demeaning "mother Abby,"
bumbling, horrid house
keeper (Hagrid himself,
would turn down invitation),
plus Facebook fiasco,
imbroglio, and locomotive -
complicit in behavior
comparable to pedophile,
yet please let me conclude
by admitting total lack
of wherewithal.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DAUGHTER!