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Snippet from NaNo

I Sing the Body Electric

 

I am the poet of the body and I am the poet of the soul … / At another place he sings:/ I have said that the soul is not more than the body.

—Walt Whitman

The soul is always beautiful, it appears more or it appears less, it comes or it lags behind, / It comes from its embowered garden and looks pleasantly on itself and encloses the world. /Man and woman: different entities? / I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, / And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man

—Walt Whitman

 

 

I

Sun enters in, not in, everything. Shimmering water slaps itself, triadic then singular when sun stops designing. Wind is still. At the lake’s end, a woman, wondering where shadows went, where contrasts went, praising the recent clouds, what unity it shares, staring out with the eyes of drowned corpsesat the water, still rippling, each ripple going into the next, and all she thinks is Whitman, you were always right.

 

2

 

In an oasis of flowers, briars — plucked up, petalless, petals a drying violet — strewn in rows, one by one along the flowerbed’s line; a number of trees slant at vulva-angle, each a leafless dome. Their timber—semi-broken.

 
Two days from now, there will be a storm, and they will split apart, spread out along the briars, the shriveling leafs and petals. 



3

I Sing the Body Electric, she sings, and imagines the voice of Whitman, deep with a coarseness electric. Remembers. He thought everything was one and luminous; the bee flying in the sky was not flying, but gliding on, into until—a part of it. Turning, she faces the mirror. Everything is equal, or of one scale, she thinks: there is no room for dualism, exact criss-cross lines or black on white. Her eyes stare into her eyes. Her skin: her skin. From behind, a hand folds around her shoulder. Sameness. She turns, faces her lover. Leans onto him. Tiffany sheet breathe out, folds around their bodies. No space escapes. There is only—union. Like a lake in cloudy days. She smiles.


Everything is adapting for wholeness. The flesh, she thinks, only the name of body’s surface, the body not the soul's cage but the necessary part of it. He touches her: her flesh: her soul. She smiles. Thinks of the lake in the sun and then in the clouds.

 

 

4

 

She is back at the lake again. The grass divided when she passed — no — adapted around her feet.  It was nevernanything, she thinks, but whole.

Comments

( 10caught suns — drop the sun into your palms )
spindlewand
Nov. 3rd, 2007 01:24 pm (UTC)
Magnificent as usual. I thought I would tell you that this reminded me, immediately, of one particular friend and her husband.

I would be very interested in reading the whole thing, sometime, or times,
inevitably_grey
Nov. 3rd, 2007 04:26 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much. I just came back to lj and haven't had the guts to comment on your posts (since it's so long). Glad you took the first step. :-)

All this is actually inspired by Walt Whitman's idea of body and soul as one, of everything being one -- lacking dualism. I don't know how "long" it will be, but when it's finished I hope to have a fine little vignette / novella. And of course -- if I'm any proud of it (and if I get any far with it -- I still have no "plot", knowledge of character [not even a name]).

OH, I've been dying to ask you what your username is on NaNo. Mine is "muscularmusic".

And last but not least, I HAVE to lead you in the direction of the book called SILKWORMS. It's absolutely the best book I've ever read. No restriction and no nits whatsoever on it. It's translated from french, and almsot a novella, which is why it's not that known. The storytelling is close to perfection.

*huggles*

evy_black
Nov. 5th, 2007 06:21 pm (UTC)
Very beautiful, but I am more than sure you already knew that. Lovely work.
And Whitman is an amazing poet, so he’s a great choice.

Bravo! :]
inevitably_grey
Nov. 6th, 2007 07:39 pm (UTC)
:) Thank you. I've been LJ-absent (trip to Spain kind of made me stop looking in). But I'm trying to get back. Hope you're all right!
evy_black
Nov. 6th, 2007 10:41 pm (UTC)
Never better, love ;] Don’t mind me.

I did notice you weren’t around much. Did you have a good time in Spain?
fly_to_dawn
Nov. 28th, 2007 10:26 am (UTC)
*pokes*

Oi. You.

*squishes*

Where are you?
fly_to_dawn
Apr. 7th, 2008 09:09 am (UTC)
Where have you disappeared to?
(Anonymous)
May. 12th, 2008 02:27 pm (UTC)
:(

I have completely fallen out of this blogging :( But I do miss you and you have been one of the reasons I've returned all the time.

Love <3
OX

James

ps: that's a beautiful avatar, btw. :)
fly_to_dawn
Aug. 18th, 2008 12:50 am (UTC)
Sigh, yeah, I know. I miss the good old days. But in any case, you have my address, and as I'll be here for quite a while yet (until I graduate from High School, anyway) you can come back any time and just randomly poke me, y'know?

*squishes*
inevitably_grey
Oct. 24th, 2008 09:04 pm (UTC)
*poke*

never mind it being, what, five months since i last checked my blog. :-)

it's strange--feels like i'm visiting a stranger's blog. and not mine.

i hope you get used to poking. you see, i'm intending to poke you quite frequently from now on (if you consider this response time medium-to-short), and it can become dangerously annoying, or obsessive. ;P

let's hope we don't start a poke war. O.O

*squishsquish++++months gone*
( 10caught suns — drop the sun into your palms )

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