Lust dragged down to memory, a planet cratered by the impact of so many succubi.
In the war of sex, I sought out Lilith, rebel, demon, banished from Eden, or one of her daughters, whose bodies still illuminate my dreams with aching light, make my sleep a wave of vanishment.
I wait to be swallowed up.
Then I wake watching those sex-holy demons fade into an old man’s secret morning.
Senecio’s Lament
Lust dragged down to memory,
a moon cratered by the impact
of so many succubi.
In the war of sex, I sought out Lilith,
rebel, demon, banished from Eden,
or one of her daughters, whose bodies
still illuminate my dreams with aching light,
make my sleep a wave of tremors.
I wait to be swallowed up.
Then I wake
watching those sex-holy demons fading
into an old man’s secret morning.
Senecio’s Lament
My lust is weighed down by memory,
a moon cratered by the impact
of so many succubi,
a long exhausted volcano
now drowned with a lake
where wind rarely disturbs its surface.
When I needed to hold the Other
I sought out Lilith, never Eve,
rebel, demon, banished from Eden,
condemned to sing only at night,
or one of her daughters, whose bodies,
so unobtainable, still inhabit my dreams with aching light,
make my sleep a wave of tremors.
I wait to be swallowed up.
I wake and my yearning
sees those sex-holy demons fade
into an old man’s secret morning
who will fly no more in Lilith’s arms.
Senecio is a persona who's been with me for 40 odd years (first appearing in a never to be published novel around 1983, in which he played a kind of alien from God), so that I almost see him as another person, but a person made up of a Me who has lived almost seven decades, all wrapped into one warped DNA string. Anyway, only reference point (the origin story) is Paul Klee's painting.
My lust is weighed down by memory, feels redundant a moon cratered by the impact of so many succubi, don't brag! a long exhausted volcano now drowned with a lake in? where wind rarely disturbs its surface. its surface rarely disturbed by wind. The wind is deletable. I find this whole line a little awkward or maybe..
a volcano now drowned a lake rarely disturbed by wind Viagra? Ha, jk!
When I needed to hold the Other the 'the Other' here confuses me in your intent. Would 'others' work better? I sought out Lilith, never Eve, ? rebel, demon, banished from Eden, this also confuses without the spoiler. both were eventually banished? condemned to sing only at night, or one of her daughters, whose bodies, so unobtainable, still inhabit my dreams with aching light, make my sleep a wave of tremors. I wait to be swallowed up. This is almost a stand alone line
I wake, see my yearning, sees those sex-holy demons fading into an old man’s secret morning. I love the double meaning of mourning and morning. I will fly no more in Lilith’s arms. ?
Senecio is a persona who's been with me for 40 odd years (first appearing in a never to be published novel around 1983, in which he played a kind of alien from God), so that I almost see him as another person, but a person made up of a Me who has lived almost seven decades, all wrapped into one warped DNA string. Anyway, only reference point (the origin story) is Paul Klee's painting.
TqB,
Very nice. Made my usual at your discretion suggestions. My major sticking point was the suggested comparison between Lilith and Eve. Without the spoiler it wouldn't have made sense to me. Just letting you know. My suggestions around S1 might be confusing as I sort of offered different suggestions. If not clear let me know.
Take care,
Bryn
My lust is weighed down by memory, feels redundant a moon cratered by the impact of so many succubi, don't brag! a long exhausted volcano now drowned with a lake in? where wind rarely disturbs its surface. its surface rarely disturbed by wind. The wind is deletable. I find this whole line a little awkward or maybe..
a volcano now drowned a lake rarely disturbed by wind Viagra? Ha, jk!
When I needed to hold the Other the 'the Other' here confuses me in your intent. Would 'others' work better? I sought out Lilith, never Eve, ? rebel, demon, banished from Eden, this also confuses without the spoiler. both were eventually banished? condemned to sing only at night, or one of her daughters, whose bodies, so unobtainable, still inhabit my dreams with aching light, make my sleep a wave of tremors. I wait to be swallowed up. This is almost a stand alone line
I wake, see my yearning, sees those sex-holy demons fading into an old man’s secret morning. I love the double meaning of mourning and morning. I will fly no more in Lilith’s arms. ?
Senecio is a persona who's been with me for 40 odd years (first appearing in a never to be published novel around 1983, in which he played a kind of alien from God), so that I almost see him as another person, but a person made up of a Me who has lived almost seven decades, all wrapped into one warped DNA string. Anyway, only reference point (the origin story) is Paul Klee's painting.
TqB,
Very nice. Made my usual at your discretion suggestions. My major sticking point was the suggested comparison between Lilith and Eve. Without the spoiler it wouldn't have made sense to me. Just letting you know. My suggestions around S1 might be confusing as I sort of offered different suggestions. If not clear let me know.
Take care,
Bryn
Thanks! I was a little embarrassed by this poem when I reread it last night. I edited it significantly, hopefully getting doewn to the essential. Thanks for the guidance.
Lust dragged down to memory,
a moon cratered by the impact maybe a simile ('like a moon', instead of the metaphor)
of so many succubi.
In the war of sex, I sought out Lilith,
rebel, demon, banished from Eden,
or one of her daughters, whose bodies
still illuminate my dreams with aching light,
make my sleep a wave of tremors. 'tremors' doesn't seem to be the right word
I wait to be swallowed up. maybe 'hope to be swallowed whole'
Then I wake
watching those sex-holy demons fading maybe ' as those sex-holy demons fade'
into an old man’s secret morning. maybe 'empty' instead of 'secret'
Being of a certain age, I know exactly what this poem is reaching for. A little more tightening and you'll have it down.
...Mark
(02-18-2023, 09:30 PM)Mark A Becker Wrote: Hi Tim-
Interesting piece.
Senecio’s Lament
Lust dragged down to memory,
a moon cratered by the impact maybe a simile ('like a moon', instead of the metaphor)
of so many succubi.
In the war of sex, I sought out Lilith,
rebel, demon, banished from Eden,
or one of her daughters, whose bodies
still illuminate my dreams with aching light,
make my sleep a wave of tremors. 'tremors' doesn't seem to be the right word
I wait to be swallowed up. maybe 'hope to be swallowed whole'
Then I wake
watching those sex-holy demons fading maybe ' as those sex-holy demons fade'
into an old man’s secret morning. maybe 'empty' instead of 'secret'
Being of a certain age, I know exactly what this poem is reaching for. A little more tightening and you'll have it down.
...Mark
Thanks Mark,
Made some of your changes outright, kept "I wait to be swallowed up" and maybe the line change previous makes it OK. As to "empty" vs "secrets", well, I still have a few good secrets that mellow the emptiness. Don't want to engage in that deep a pathos.
Lust dragged down to memory, a planet cratered by the impact of so many succubi.
In the war of sex, I sought out Lilith, rebel, demon, banished from Eden, or one of her daughters, whose bodies still illuminate my dreams with aching light, ...these lines are, for me, the soul of the poem. The rest of the piece struggles to live up to them make my sleep a wave of vanishment.
I wait to be swallowed up.
Then I wake watching those sex-holy demons fade into an old man’s secret morning. ... I love this last line...there are layers of meaning in the 'secret', and it's just the right choice of word...BUT ...
the part after 'then I wake' is predictable. Yes, I know that your dreams will fade once you wake up and get back to reality. It doesn't hit hard enough. Maybe if you could go from 'swallowed up' to this line with a 'then spat out' in between, it would do well. But the idea of waking and fleeing, and day bringing back night is cliched.
Senecio’s Lament
Lust dragged down to memory,
a moon cratered by the impact
of so many succubi.
In the war of sex, I sought out Lilith,
rebel, demon, banished from Eden,
or one of her daughters, whose bodies
still illuminate my dreams with aching light,
make my sleep a wave of tremors.
I wait to be swallowed up.
Then I wake
watching those sex-holy demons fading
into an old man’s secret morning.
Senecio’s Lament
My lust is weighed down by memory,
a moon cratered by the impact
of so many succubi,
a long exhausted volcano
now drowned with a lake
where wind rarely disturbs its surface.
When I needed to hold the Other
I sought out Lilith, never Eve,
rebel, demon, banished from Eden,
condemned to sing only at night,
or one of her daughters, whose bodies,
so unobtainable, still inhabit my dreams with aching light,
make my sleep a wave of tremors.
I wait to be swallowed up.
I wake and my yearning
sees those sex-holy demons fade
into an old man’s secret morning
who will fly no more in Lilith’s arms.
Senecio is a persona who's been with me for 40 odd years (first appearing in a never to be published novel around 1983, in which he played a kind of alien from God), so that I almost see him as another person, but a person made up of a Me who has lived almost seven decades, all wrapped into one warped DNA string. Anyway, only reference point (the origin story) is Paul Klee's painting.
