Pirithous and the Hidden Muse

[RiverNotch]

Pirithous and the Hidden Muse


Pirithous: The Trapped Hero

All is cloaked in golden light. A memory
flutters by -- some jealous angel opened up
my eye -- then fills a Dionysian cup
with tears. A decade or two, a decade or two

is born upon the thought -- a hundred
yes-I-wills and yes-I-dos
and even glimmers of me and you,
of early winter dew -- fast hardened

by the thousand years of wounds
that my every inch of skin has kept,
this stretched out soul had stepped
long before my birth, beyond youth.

Yet into what? A million is a night
to what the saints and sons-of-God have coursed,
and prophecy, damned art, remains a door
to some dead heaven. How can we two fight?

The Hidden Muse: Vita Nova

Hell can be traversed. Neon demons:
have no fear of them. Prisms may divide
but the space of air that lies beyond
unites again, and the golden light

that oozes out of my torch smells sweeter
than any touch of flowers. My all-surpassing beauty
shall prevail, the Lethe's soul-erasing waters
shall be drained, and the addled monkey

who burned the New Year's chicken shall be flayed.
Below the Holy Virgin's face, what has God made
that should compare with me? So what if death,
with oceanic fingers, wets

your pit of sand? Hell can be traversed:
my blue-eyed strong-browed face shall serve
as loving guide, and my perfume
shall be your purgatory.

Pirithous and the Hidden Muse


Pirithous: The Trapped Hero

All is cloaked in golden light. A memory
flutters by -- some jealous angel opened up
my eye -- then fills a thumbelina cup
with tears. A decade or two, a decade or two

is born upon the thought -- a hundred
yes-I-wills and yes-I-dos
and even glimmers of me and you,
of early winter dew -- fast hardened

by the thousand years of wounds
that my every inch of skin has kept,
this stretched out soul had stepped
long before my birth, beyond youth.

Yet into what? A million is a night
to what the saints and sons-of-God have coursed,
and prophecy, damned art, remains a door
to some dead heaven. How can we two fight?

The Hidden Muse: Vita Nova

Hell can be traversed. Neon demons:
have no fear of them. Prisms may divide
but the space of air that lies beyond
unites again, and the golden light

that oozes out of my torch smells sweeter
than any touch of flowers. My all-surpassing beauty
shall prevail, the Lethe's soul-erasing waters
shall be drained, and the addled monkey

who burned the New Year's chicken shall be flayed.
Below the Holy Virgin's face, what has God made
that should compare with me? So what if death,
with oceanic fingers, wets

your pit of sand? Hell can be traversed:
my blue-eyed strong-browed face shall serve
as loving guide, and my perfume
shall be your purgatory.

Pirithous: The Trapped Hero

All is cloaked in golden light. A memory
flutters by -- some jealous angel opened up
my eye -- then fills a thumbelina cup
with tears. A decade or two, a decade or two

is born upon the thought -- a hundred
yes-I-wills and yes-I-dos
and even glimmers of me and you,
of early winter dew -- fast hardened

by the thousand years of wounds
that my every inch of skin has kept,
this stretched out soul had stepped,
long before my youth, beyond birth.

Yet into what? A million is a night
to what the saints and sons-of-God have coursed,
and prophecy, damned art, remains a door
to some dead heaven. How can we two fight?

The Hidden Muse: Fanny's Fanny

Hell can be traversed. Neon demons,
I have no fear of them. Prisms may divide
but the space beyond unites once more
and sweeter than honey is the light

oozing out of my torch. Many we have lost,
many more we've even forgotten,
but let me make the river clear: my beauty,
all-surpassing, shall prevail. What has God made

below the Holy Virgin's face
that should compare? So what if the monkey
forgot the cock in the oven -- so what if death
swept across the sand? Hell can be traversed,

and my face, my blue-eyed strong-browed face,
can be raped without touching. For spilling
my bottle of blood perfume, you'll burn
only in purgatory -- and the new life awaits.

[Lizzie]

This reads like a dream, River (as in, it slides across the tongue like butter). No idea what it's on about, but I'll give it a few more reads and get back to you.

[RiverNotch]

"This reads like a dream"

i kinda think the first section does, but the second stumbles a lot. i might revise the second section pre-feedback, both to clarify its meaning and to make it conform to a structure. thanks for the consideration!

[Lizzie]

I read it through several times, not even worrying about the meaning, just feeling the pace and the beat, and I loved it like I love a piece of music. So, I hope you do revise, but not at the expense of that flow that I love!!! Because it's my piece and I get to make all of your decisions.

[RiverNotch]

*edited. I hope the music wasn't lost, and the meaning (if there is any) not changed too much.

[RiverNotch]

Well now I want to move this to a critical forum....I've grown unsure of whether the point comes across.

---

Thanks for the move, Quix!

[Donald Q.]

Pirithous and the Hidden Muse


Pirithous: The Trapped Hero

All is cloaked in golden light. A memory
flutters by -- some jealous angel opened up  Personally I wouldn't use dashes like that, commas seem fine, or at the least a single dash instead of this mario kart double dash!
my eye -- then fills a thumbelina cup I feel like 'thumbelina' whilst having a nice rhythm, clashes tonally with the poem because of the reference. 
with tears. A decade or two, a decade or two

is born upon the thought -- a hundred
yes-I-wills and yes-I-dos
and even glimmers of me and you,
of early winter dew -- fast hardened Nice

by the thousand years of wounds
that my every inch of skin has kept,
this stretched out soul had stepped
long before my birth, beyond youth.

Yet into what? A million is a night
to what the saints and sons-of-God have coursed,
and prophecy, damned art, remains a door
to some dead heaven. How can we two fight?

I like this, has a really good rhythm  and rhyme throughout. I feel like you really give Pirithous a nice depiction, considering he's a bit of an idiot.  Nice stuff. 

The Hidden Muse: Vita Nova

Hell can be traversed. Neon demons:
have no fear of them. Prisms may divide
but the space of air that lies beyond
unites again, and the golden light

that oozes out of my torch smells sweeter
than any touch of flowers. My all-surpassing beauty
shall prevail, the Lethe's soul-erasing waters
shall be drained, and the addled monkey

who burned the New Year's chicken shall be flayed. This whole sentence is lovely. 
Below the Holy Virgin's face, what has God made
that should compare with me? So what if death,
with oceanic fingers, wets  Death's oceanic fingers is great

your pit of sand? Hell can be traversed:
my blue-eyed strong-browed face shall serve
as loving guide, and my perfume
shall be your purgatory.

I don't really know anything about La Vita Nuova, so I can't much crit the overall theme of this piece, but it's well written with some memorable images that i really enjoyed. I think maybe [and I'm not sure about this] I would change the stanza lengths; at the moment I feel like breaking them up evenly into fours isn't doing the poem justice. Also I feel perhaps the introduction is a pit opaque and doesn't give enough concrete context to begin with. Perhaps that's just my ignorance of the work you are referencing. Hope this was even slightly helpful, happy to re-feedback if needed. 

[RiverNotch]

Thanks for the feedback!

L2: I wanted a level of separation above commas, since commas would for me interrupt the thought-rhythm.
L3: Agreed. Hmm...since the chief idea for that section is reincarnation, yet it seems it's touched a little too obliquely, perhaps I should replace it with something more direct? "then fills a Dionysian cup"....

Vita Nova: the irony being that, though I know about Dante's La Vita Nuova, I know much more about Louise Gluck's Vita Nova, the second one being something I've actually read (though La Vita Nuova is on my reading list). Nevertheless, the reference there is fairly rudimentary: the hidden muse is gonna be Pirithous' guide out of the underworld, is gonna give him a "new life". As for the four line scheme....what would you suggest? I wrote this as yet another exercise on a form I've been playing around with since, it seems, my second post on the site, which is basically four irregular quatrains, so really I can't think of alternative line schemes.

Again, thanks for the feedback! I've edited in a change -- "thumbelina" into "Dionysian". Happy Year of the Burnt Chicken!