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bearing water for Brigid


Bearing Water for Brigid

Sketches for a water vessel --
bottle and message bob on waves.
Voice of Brigid calls
All who hear: Imagine
Exposed to wind, to grit, to rain
and hail,
rock faces erode

Vessel
Designated fixed space
Sacrosanct container
Conveyor through fluid
Separates
Fluidity
Creates place, surface to paint.
Amusement;
diffusement of emotion,
beatitude, foment of dueling farce.

Pure colors
blend in the dark.
Brief infusion
of giddy illusion
glows
just enough to guilefully entice.
Catch that glint, a secret
clue revealing
purpose, meaning.
Sparkling Neural net
smiles,
engaging
wild eternal child,
ages' flamboyant fool,
Glorious
Muse

(Voice rains from within)

A wound is a sacred vessel
Pain carves into flesh
Carries sense memory
Carries the seed
Of its own demise
Sentience
Engulfed in life
Learns anew to be whole


Wounded with the potential for wisdom
when eyes are are pried
from seeping, sucking, suffering
aching to censure what future we admire.
Redefine the schizm.
This wound is our project.
To heal, discover the vision;
realign the seam to fit
self-framed landscape.

Let loose that genie of desire.
Ride rushing blood streams.
Build a roaring pyre of grief,
insane belief in wrathfilled deities.
Revile that old refrain: "life is pain" or a game
to be lost.
No Faustian bargain.
Just a
rambling adventure
daring
to explore
essence of ecstasy.
Don't wait for the rest to see
and demur.
Stretch your sail.
Take sight of your guiding star.
The only failure is self-denial
in favor of the vile lie
that pain is destiny
instead of faithful friend
lending energy
for change.

Slice vivid memories.
Exult in the tastes, the textures.
Enliven your way.

In the end
the vessel breaks.
There the Goddess stirs

2011 Aquarius



Last edited by libramoon, Feb/1/2011, 2:47 pm
Jan/26/2011, 8:58 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
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first approximations: Bearing Water for Brigid


---------------------------------

Water Bearer for Brigid (4th approximation)
 
Sketches for a water vessel --
bottle message bobs on waves
Voice of Brigid calls
at the root of desire
All who hear: Imagine
Rock faces erode
exposed to wind, to grit, to rain
and hail
Vessel
Designated fixed space
Sacrosanct container
Conveyor through fluid
Separates
Fluidity
Creates place, purpose
Amusement
diffusement of emotion
beatitude, foment of dueling farce
Charismatic gems
harsh edges polished pure
colors
blend in the dark
become enchanting
wish granting
Enthusing brief infusion
of giddy illusion
glows
just enough to guilefully entice
Sparkling Neural net
smiles
Catch that glint, a secret
clue revealing
meaning
Temptress,
wild eternal child,
ages' flamboyant fool
Engaging
Glorious
Muse
 
A wound is a sacred vessel
Pain carves into flesh
Carries sense memory
Carries the seed
Of its own demise
Sentient feeling
Engulfed in life
Learns anew to be whole
 

Wounded with the potential for wisdom
The prize applies if we pry our eyes
from seeping, sucking, suffering
aching to censure what future we admire
Redefine the schizm
This wound is our project
To heal, to discover the vision
Realign the cost to fit
self-framed landscape
Not lose or win
Let loose that genie of desire
Build a roaring pyre of grief,
insane belief in wrathfilled deities
Revile that old refrain: "life is pain" or a game
to be lost
No Faustian bargain
Just a
rambling adventure
of daring
to explore
essence of ecstasy
Don't wait for the rest to see
and demur
Take pleasure
Stretch your sail
Take sight of your guiding star
The only failure is self-denial
in favor of the vile lie
that pain is destiny
instead of faithful friend
lending energy
for change
 
Slice vivid memories
Exult in their flavor
Savor the tastes, the textures
Enliven your way
 
In the end
The vessel breaks
There the Goddess stirs
 
2011 Aquarius

---------------------

Bearing Water for Brigid (3rd approximation)

Sketches for a water vessel --
message bottle bobs on waves
at the root of desire
Voice of Brigid calls
All who hear: Imagine
Erosion
Rock faces
Exposed to wind, to grit, to rain
and hail
Vessel
Container
Conveyor through fluid
Designated fixed space
Separates
Fluidity
Creates place, purpose
Amusement
for the moment
beatitude, foment of dueling farce
Diffusement
of emotion
Charismatic gems
harsh edges polished pure
colors
blend in the dark
become enchanting
wish granting
Enthusing infusion of
brief, giddy illusion
Glowing
just enough to guilefully entice
Sparkling Neural net
smiles
Temptress,
wild
eternal child
Ages' flamboyant fool
Catch that glint, a secret
clue revealing
meaning
Engaging
Glorious
Muse

A wound is a sacred vessel
Pain carves into flesh
Carries sense memory
Carries the seed
Of its own demise
Sentient feeling
Engulfment in life
Learns anew to be whole


Wounded with the potential for wisdom
The prize applies if we pry our eyes
from seeping, sucking, suffering
aching to censure what future we admire
Redefine the schizm
This wound is our project
To heal, to discover the vision
Not lose or win
Let loose that genie of desire
Build a roaring pyre of grief,
insane belief in wrathfilled deities,
belief that life is pain or a game
to be lost
Realign the cost to fit
self-framed landscape
No Faustian bargain
Just a
rambling adventure
of daring,
of joy,
essence of ecstasy
Don't wait for the rest to see
and demur
Take pleasure
Stretch your sail
Take sight of your guiding star
The only failure is self-denial
in favor of the vile lie
that pain is destiny
instead of faithful friend
lending energy
for change

Slice vivid memories
Exult in their flavor
Savor the tastes, the textures
Enliven your way

In the end
The vessel breaks
There the Goddess stirs

2011 Aquarius


---------------------------

Bearing Water for Brigid (second approximation)

Sketches for a water vessel
Blueprint at the root of desire
Voice of Brigid calls
All who hear, Imagine
Erosion
Rock faces
Exposed to wind, to grit, to rain
and hail
Vessel
Container
Conveyor through fluid
Designated fixed space
Separates
Fluidity
Creates place, purpose,
Amusement
for the moment
beatitude, foment of dueling farce
Diffusement
of emotion
Charismatic gemstones
harsh edges severed
colors
blend in the dark
Become enchanting
Wish granting
Enthusing infusion of
Brief, giddy illusion
Glowing
just enough to guilefully entice
Sparkling
Neural net smile
Temptress,
Flamboyant
Wild
Eternal child
Ages' fool
Catch that glint a secret
Clue revealing
Purpose, Meaning
Engaging
Glorious
Muse

A wound is a sacred vessel
Pain carves into flesh
Carries sense memory
Carries the seed
Of its own demise
Sentient feeling
Engulfment in life
Learns anew to be whole


Wounded, with the potential for wisdom
The prize applies if we pry our eyes
from seeping, sucking, suffering
aching to censure what future we admire
Redefine the schizm
This wound is our project
To heal, to discover the vision
Not lose or win
Let loose that genie of desire
Build a roaring pyre of grief,
insane belief in wrathfilled deities,
belief that life is pain or a game
to be lost
Realign the cost to fit
Self-framed landscape
No Faustian bargain,
Just a
rambling adventure,
of daring,
of joy,
essence of ecstasy
Don't wait for the rest to see
and demur
Take pleasure
Stretch your sail
Take sight of your guiding star
The only failure is self-denial
in favor of the vile lie
that pain is destiny
instead of faithful friend
lending energy
for change

Slice vivid memories
Exult in their flavor
Savor the tastes, the textures
along your way

In the end
The vessel breaks
There the Goddess stirs



Renata would not get her breakfast today. She was being unbearably willful. Certainly a Princess is expected to want her way; but there are some subjects a child of any class should be taught to shun.

Poor, motherless child. She is really such a sweet soul. She just does it for attention. She must be taught. We don't want to attract attention of the wrong kind.

Born into royalty is just being born, thrust into a time and place, people, conditions of behavior having nothing to do with survival, other than it is learn or die defying.

"No time for me" wasn't in Renata's thinking. Accustomed to her own company while all hue and tumult went to her brothers' training and vying for dear King Papa's throne and favor. She carried secret smiles, knowing her bravery and sharp wit belong to her alone. No, not alone. All that she can mean belong to the Goddess who carries her, from within her first principles, before awareness. This motherless daughter, before the end while birthing her, last and only conscious gift from death to birth, was consecrated to her mother's Protector, Friend, Purpose.

"His precious sons are his, to carry his legacy. I have paid that price. You, daughter, are mine to gift to Her; and She is my gift to you." Renata feels her mother's gift as the air of life, flowing through, in, sparkling energy, surety, allegiance.

"My life is mine," a sweet phrase she might sing, even knowing that in this world it is anything but.


2011 Aquarius
------------------------
Bearing Water for Brigid (first approximation)


Sketches for a water vessel
Germ at the root of desire
Voice of Brigid calls
All who hear to imagine
Erosion
Rock faces
Exposed to wind, to grit, to rain
and hail
Vessel
Container of fluid
Conveyor through fluid
Designated fixed space
Separates
Fluidity
Creates place, purpose,
Amusement
for the moment
beatitude, foment dueling farce
Diffusement
of emotion
Charismatic gemstones
severed harsh edges
colors
blend in the dark
Become enchanting
Wish granting
Enthusing infusion of
Brief, giddy illusion
Glowing just enough to guilefully entice
Neural net smile sparkling
Temptress, flamboyant
Wild
Eternal child
Easily fooled
Catch that glint a secret
Clue revealing
Purpose, Meaning
Engaging
Glorious
Muse
 
In the end
The vessel breaks
There the Goddess stirs
 
 
Renata would not get her breakfast today. She was being unbearably willful. Certainly a Princess is expected to want her way; but there are some subjects a child of any class should be taught to shun.
 
Poor, motherless child. She is really such a sweet soul. She just does it for attention. She must be taught. We don't want to attract attention of the wrong kind.
 
Born into royalty is just being born, thrust into a time and place, people, conditions of behavior having nothing to do with survival, other than it is learn or die defying.
 
"No time for me" wasn't in Renata's thinking. Accustomed to her own company while all hue and tumult went to her brothers' training and vying for dear King Papa's throne and favor. She carried secret smiles, knowing her bravery and sharp wit belong to her alone. No, not alone. All that she can mean belong to the Goddess who carries her, from within her first principles, before awareness. This motherless daughter, before the end while birthing her, last and only conscious gift from death to birth, was consecrated to her mother's Protector, Friend, Purpose.
 
"His precious sons are his, to carry his legacy. I have paid that price. You, daughter, are mine to gift to Her; and She is my gift to you." Renata feels her mother's gift as the air of life, flowing through, in, sparkling energy, surety, allegiance.
 
"My life is mine," a sweet phrase she might sing, even knowing that in this world it is anything but.
 
 
 
Wounded, with the potential for wisdom
The prize applies if we pry our eyes
from seeping, sucking, suffering
aching to censure what future we admire
Redefine the schizm
This wound is our project
To heal, to discover the vision
Not lose or win
Let loose that genie of desire
Build a roaring pyre of grief,
pain, believe in wrathfilled deities,
belief that life is pain or a game
to be lost
Realign the cost to fit
Self-framed landscape
No Faustian bargain,
Just a
rambling adventure,
of daring,
of joy,
essence of ecstasy
Don't wait for the rest to see
and demur
Take pleasure
Stretch your sail
Take sight of your guiding star
The only failure is self-denial
in favor of the vile lie
that pain is destiny
instead of faithful friend
lending energy
for change
 
Slice vivid memories
Exult in their flavor
Savor the tastes, the textures
along the way
 
 
 
2011 Aquarius
 

Jan/28/2011, 9:14 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: bearing water for Brigid


Libra, I finally realize at least part of my enjoyment of your poetry. Your love of words is manifest. It isn't a love of words for the sake of words. It is a love of words for what they can do, how they can sit together, play off each other in sensibility, meaning, rhythmic patterning. Sometimes leap frogging even. You also have a facility for the neologism. I am pretty sure diffusement was not a word until now, and a word that makes immediate sense to me in the context. You can, not that you always do or are limited to doing so, but you can write impishly, for the pure play of it, and I do so respond to the play. Mozart had his Popogano, a bird man. But Popogano had his Popogana, his bird woman. She is who your writing brings to mind sometimes. Puck too.

We can sometimes get too caught up in crit and parsing each other's words, forgetting that it all can also be fun to do as well. What you do, for me at least, is bring back the fun, the intelligent play. At least when you are in the mood to do so.

I've not yet read all the poem's "approximations," which in itself is a playful way of describing your process. Fourth one is a treat.

Tere
Jan/29/2011, 4:14 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
libramoon Profile
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Re: bearing water for Brigid


Thanks, Tere. It's good to feel seen.
Jan/30/2011, 6:09 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
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Re: bearing water for Brigid


Now that is an interesting way of putting it, feeling seen. Makes sense too. And perhaps something else we poets lose sight of when become too single minded and focused on process.

Tere
Jan/30/2011, 6:25 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
libramoon Profile
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Re: bearing water for Brigid


moving #5 down here.


Bearing Water for Brigid (5th approximation)
 
Sketches for a water vessel --
bottle and message bob on waves.
Voice of Brigid calls
at the root of desire.
All who hear: Imagine
Rock faces erode
exposed to wind, to grit, to rain
and hail.
Vessel
Designated fixed space
Sacrosanct container
Conveyor through fluid
Separates
Fluidity
Creates place, surface to paint
Amusement
diffusement of emotion
beatitude, foment of dueling farce.
Charismatic gems
harsh edges polished pure
colors
blend in the dark
become enchanting
wish granting.
Enthusing brief infusion
of giddy illusion
glows
just enough to guilefully entice.
Sparkling Neural net
smiles.
Catch that glint, a secret
clue revealing
purpose, meaning.
Temptress,
wild eternal child,
ages' flamboyant fool
Engaging
Glorious
Muse

(Voice rains from within)

 
A wound is a sacred vessel
Pain carves into flesh
Carries sense memory
Carries the seed
Of its own demise
Sentient feeling
Engulfed in life
Learns anew to be whole
 

Wounded with the potential for wisdom
The prize applies when eyes are are pried
from seeping, sucking, suffering
aching to censure what future we admire
Redefine the schizm
This wound is our project
To heal, discover the vision
Realign the seam to fit
self-framed landscape
not lose or win
Let loose that genie of desire
Ride rushing blood streams
Build a roaring pyre of grief,
insane belief in wrathfilled deities
Revile that old refrain: "life is pain" or a game
to be lost
No Faustian bargain
Just a
rambling adventure
of daring
to explore
essence of ecstasy
Don't wait for the rest to see
and demur
Take pleasure
Stretch your sail
Take sight of your guiding star
The only failure is self-denial
in favor of the vile lie
that pain is destiny
instead of faithful friend
lending energy
for change
 
Slice vivid memories
Exult in their flavor
Savor the tastes, the textures
Enliven your way
 
In the end
The vessel breaks
There the Goddess stirs
 
2011 Aquarius



Last edited by libramoon, Jan/31/2011, 8:00 pm
Jan/31/2011, 7:59 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: bearing water for Brigid


Libra, I misspoke above when I said the fourth is a treat. I meant the fifth. Glad you brought it down. It is still working for me.

Not sure, but this might be one of the best evokations of the White Goddess in her Brigid, fertility, face I've read. It is certainly up there.

Tere

Jan/31/2011, 8:23 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
libramoon Profile
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Re: bearing water for Brigid


Moving #6 down here -- possible final approx. on top. Any preference?

Bearing Water for Brigid (6th approximation)

Sketches for a water vessel --
bottle and message bob on waves.
Voice of Brigid calls
All who hear: Imagine
Exposed to wind, to grit, to rain
and hail,
rock faces erode

Vessel
Designated fixed space
Sacrosanct container
Conveyor through fluid
Separates
Fluidity
Creates place, surface to paint;

pure colors
blend in the dark.
Brief infusion
of giddy illusion
glows
just enough to guilefully entice.
Catch that glint, a secret
clue revealing
purpose, meaning.
Sparkling Neural net
smiles,
engaging
wild eternal child,
ages' flamboyant fool,
Glorious
Muse

(Voice rains from within)

A wound is a sacred vessel
Pain carves into flesh
Carries sense memory
Carries the seed
Of its own demise
Sentience
Engulfed in life
Learns anew to be whole


Wounded with the potential for wisdom
when eyes are are pried
from seeping, sucking, suffering
aching to censure what future we admire.
Redefine the schizm.
This wound is our project.
To heal, discover the vision;
realign the seam to fit
self-framed landscape

Let loose that genie of desire.
Ride rushing blood streams.
Build a roaring pyre of grief,
insane belief in wrathfilled deities.
Revile that old refrain: "life is pain" or a game
to be lost.
No Faustian bargain.
Just a
rambling adventure
daring
to explore
essence of ecstasy.
Don't wait for the rest to see
and demur.
Stretch your sail.
Take sight of your guiding star.
The only failure is self-denial
in favor of the vile lie
that pain is destiny
instead of faithful friend
lending energy
for change.

Slice vivid memories.
Exult in the tastes, the textures.
Enliven your way.

In the end
the vessel breaks.
There the Goddess stirs

2011 Aquarius







Last edited by libramoon, Feb/1/2011, 2:49 pm
Feb/1/2011, 2:48 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: bearing water for Brigid


Not sure the poem benefits from the increase in strophe breaks. I responded immediately to the greater fluidity of thought in the earlier rendering.

Tere
Feb/1/2011, 7:14 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
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Re: bearing water for Brigid


Just to be clear. Tomorrow, 2 Feb, is Brigid's, Brighid's, day. February Eve this year by the lunar calendar. Every poem has its context.

http://www.wicca.com/celtic/akasha/imbolclore.htm

Tere

Last edited by Terreson, Feb/1/2011, 8:34 pm
Feb/1/2011, 8:33 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 


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