bundle of his(s)
 
 
The battles on sea and the battles on land and the laws and the constitutions and the arrogance and the tongues and all the rest have melted away:  only the mysteries remain.
    Aelius Aristides
 
We know only this:  life is warm.
    Adam Zagajewski
 
1.  Metaphors & Possibilities
 
The unseen populate my every day.
 
I believe
Pan
is prancing around
on goat hoofs,
inciting mischief
at anti-war rallies.
 
I sense
Bacchus
in every vineyard;
 
Dionysius
in every theater;
 
Siva
camping it up
in nightly grave yards;
 
Venus
lifting her arms
to every sunrise;
 
and
YWVH
Allah
and all the others
hovering, hovering
above their respective domes.
 
I look
in the mirror,
and Hermes
is shifting around
behind me.
 
I look
to the left
and Charon
is piloting
a dark sedan
down my street;
 
To the right
and there’s the
Trickster
drinking out of Lake Washington.
 
I could give you
Terpsichore’s phone number
and you could call her up.
 
Aphrodite
is another matter
and probably unlisted.
 
Gods & Goddesses
 
Sprites & Angels
 
Furies & Nymphs
 
Zeus
 
Demeter
 
Hades
 
and…
 
 
2.     The Girl
 
Kore
 
Persephone
 
daughter of the garden
 
too young for
the memories
that rise
and rise again
 
too young
for her secrets.
 
Persephone
 
daughter of a goddess
 
but not yet a goddess.
 
Persephone
 
the knowing one
 
dark
 
quiet
 
desired.
 
 
3.     The Abduction
 
Hades could stand
   poised
on a drifting moment,
   or flash
like his brother’s lightning.
 
His breath
could be sweet,
or it could be
wet ash.
 
Likewise his touch,
moonlight, or
blistering fire.
 
Hades
 
The younger brother.
 
His domain is
all that follows this
life of ours,
 
which is to say –
 
nothing.
 
On this day,
 
the girl
 
stands apart.
 
Her friends play
at watching flowers
grow in their footsteps.
 
She wills life
into narcissus
 
kneels
and reaches out
to its ruffled cup
and lemon blush.
 
Hades,
the incorporeal
touches her back,
between her thin wings,
 
“Take the flower,” he says.
 
The girl hears,
but no sound
disturbs the air.
 
She hesitates,
 
and feels a wave of insistence.
 
“Take the flower.”
 
When she touches the blossom,
a sky full of stars opens
beneath her hand.
 
She turns to look
at the snatcher of souls
and gasps at the
emptiness.
 
He darkens her breath
and eclipses the sun
 
and they are gone.
 
Her friends remember owls,
and dark horses.
Her friends remember
a rising wind.
 
Her friends saw nothing.
 
It was as if he dissolved,
 
but she was torn apart.
 
He felt no struggle,
but she scratched
and clawed.
 
There was no sound,
though she screamed
for her mother.
 
Then the cold,
a bone-cracking wraith;
 
and then
  
   nothing.
 
 
4.    The Mother
 
Demeter
 
original earth mother
 
straddling life
 
with
splayed feet
barrel legs
broad hips
big breasts
and
tangled dreads.
 
Demeter
 
original
full moon boogie gal
 
swaying
 
like tall grass,
 
no, not grass,
 
swaying
 
like a forest.
 
Demeter
whose barrel legs
squeezed the breath
out of Zeus
as he rode her broad hips
like a prairie rides an earthquake.
 
And, oh, how she shook him
and shook him loose
 
it was no surprise
he took their daughter next –
like some dessert course,
 
and passed her on
 
to his silent brother.
 
Demeter
who loved Persephone
like earth loves sky
didn’t see that deal go down
 
And on that day
 
Demeter
 
thrashed
when darkness came
and her daughter did not.
 
Demeter
 
bellowed
 
when morning came
and her daughter did not.
 
Demeter
wept full boulders
when the nymphs came
and her daughter did not
 
and as she listened to their story:
 
Her breath turned to ice
 
cold crept out from her
and surrounded the girls
 
She cursed Zeus
 
and the ground cracked
like so many amphorae
 
winter spread like spilled wine
 
time stopped
 
As anger and loss
froze the earth.
 
Demeter
 
as the nymphs
fall asleep
they hear
 
rock
 
crack
 
against
 
rock:
 
“Nothing will grow!  
 
Nothing!”
 
 
5.    Hades, the Place
 
Some things you know:
 
It’s where the sullen god makes his home.
 
And, yes, there is a palace, but it’s made of smoke.
 
The dog is there, as is the boatman.  
 
There are rivers.
 
In other ways you’ve been misinformed.
 
There’s no punishment, only death.
 
There are neither little devils with horns and tails poking and prodding,
 
nor big-shot philosopher devils.
 
No one is reigning rather than serving.
 
No congress is plotting the ruination of creation.
 
The place is:
 
A landscape of negatives,
of half-light, and the gray scale.
 
Bone-cracking cold
without the pleasure
of bones to crack.
 
Shades gliding
across huge distances
that hardly matter –
 
perpetual motion,
 
but not a breeze
to be felt.
 
Infinite and dull.
 
Only the girl has substance.
 
 
6.    Hades, the Palace
 
The Dark Lord
had mastered
a pallet of smoke
and brushed a drifting world
onto the thin air of his kingdom.
 
He prepared a place
that     s e e m e d.
 
Persephone saw her palace
 
floating
 
in half light
 
beside Lethe’s pond
 
its walls shaded
by Aspen and black poplar.
 
She walked
obsidian paths
 
past onyx pillars
 
and climbed steps
of darkest marble
 
to the twin thrones
 
Evening and Dusk.
 
Hades and his bride
watched rich galaxies
drift past windows
filigreed with gold
 
and then retired
to a room called
 
Deepest Night.
 
Persephone allowed
the Master of Dreams
 
and then
 
slept.
 
He rose
and walked
through the smoke
swirling
around his feet
wondering
 
how he would keep her.
 
 
7.  The Little Ice Age
(1300-1850 AD)
 
Volcanoes erupted with such force, and threw so much ash into the air, the sun and moon were shadowed for years.
 
Glaciers, those rivers of ice, grew, and their inexorable advance ripped the ground to shreds.  The Alpine “Le Bois Glacier” advanced at 360 feet a day – even in August.  A Catholic Bishop “exorcised,” the glacier to no effect.
 
Ice engulfed entire villages.
 
A new parasite came to be from under the snow and infected the wheat crop.  There was no wheat for years to come.  Bread was made from tree bark.  There were bread riots in the cities.
 
Harvests failed, livestock died, and humans suffered famine and disease.
 
The potato was introduced to Europe.
 
Wolves roamed the tundra bringing down any blood warmth they came across.
 
Painters developed a new genre of frozen scenes. Rembrandt, and Breughl were practitioners.
 
Frozen rivers were used as roads.
 
Ground in Southern England was frozen to over 3 feet in depth.
 
Hundreds of thousands died in floods.
 
Thousands of witches were burned to death in Germany, England, and France.
 
Mary Shelley wrote, “Frankenstein.”  
 
Charles Dickens wrote, “A Christmas Carol.”
 
 
7.    PSALM (ICED CROCUS)
Seattle, 2007
 
Dear God,
 
PLEASE
let the
SUN
come out.
 
We are so cold,
it has been so wet,
but what’s worse
is this constant gray.
 
Your people are hiding,
 
we are taking longer naps,
 
even our dogs
are sleeping
more.
 
When we’re awake
we reflect on our misery,
 
all we want to do is
eat and cry
 
and go back to sleep.
 
Your people are peevish,
 
Work has become impossible,
and play is fraught with
misunderstandings.
 
Dear God,
 
It’s time for him,
 
that son-of-a-bitch,
and you know who,
 
to let her go
 
so she can start
 
climbing
 
the
 
ladder.
 
There are twenty-one rungs,
and even then,
it’s just her icy head we’ll see –
 
a breathless crocus,
 
YES,
 
but first
you must
warm
the soil.
 
So, if you PLEASE,
 
Dear God,
 
a little more          
 
 !SUN!
 
 
8.  A Negotiated Settlement
 
(A sitting room in the Underworld. The lighting is subdued.  Hades is present. An instrumental version of  “That Lucky Ole Sun” fades out as Hermes enters.)
 
Hermes:  Hades?
 
Hades:  Hermes.  How did you get in here?
 
Hermes:  Your brother sent me.  Zeus is troubled.
 
Hades:  Zeus is always troubled.  If you played around like he does, you’d be troubled, too.
 
Hermes:  The girl’s mother has frozen the Earth.  There’s been no Harvest, nothing is growing.  Your brother wants you to send the girl home.
 
Hades:  Hermes, I rule over shades and minerals, and in case you didn’t notice, the poet calls the weather down here, “bone-cracking.”  The girl stays.
 
Hermes:  If you try to keep her, Zeus promises the usual.
 
Hades:  Which is…?
 
 Hermes:  The usual:  lightning, chaos, carnage…
 
Hades:  Carnage in the underworld?  That’s a good one.
 
Hermes:  Hades!
 
Hades:  Hermes, I like the girl.  She’s warm.  She’s the only warm thing around here. I don’t want to give her up.
 
Hermes: Your brother is willing to make certain accommodations.
 
Hades:  Other than carnage?
 
Hermes:  He’s willing to disrupt the entire order and introduce what he’s calling, “the cycle of seasons.”  It’s a fancy way of saying she can come back on a regular basis, but you can’t keep her.
 
Hades:  I can’t keep her?
 
Hermes:  That’s right, and there’s another catch.
 
Hades:  Another catch?  
 
Hermes:  In order to come back, she has to eat.
 
Hades:  She never eats…
 
Hermes:  She has to.
 
Hades:  Nobody here eats except the dog, the dog eats.
 
Hermes:  Sorry, she has to eat.  It doesn’t matter what, or even how much.  She could eat one of your famous pomegranates.    
 
Hades:  Nobody can eat a pomegranate.
 
Hermes:  Hades…
 
Hades:  I’ll figure it out.
 
Hermes:  You don’t have time to figure it out.  She has to come now.  
 
Hades:  Now?
 
Hermes:  Right now.
 
Hades:  This minute?
 
Hermes:  Now.
 
Hades:  Maybe a little later?
 
Hermes:  Carnage.
 
Hades:  Incredible.  I’ll get her.
 
Hermes:  You’re not moving.
 
Hades:  Hermes, please, I don’t have to move.  
 
(After a few beats Persephone enters, She’s is visibly pregnant.)
 
Persephone:  My prince…?
 
Hermes:  Hades, she’s…
 
Hades:  It’s nothing, an illusion, of sorts…
 
Persephone:  It comes and goes.
 
Hermes:  Comes and goes…?
 
Hades:  Don’t worry; she’ll be fine in no time.
 
Hermes:  No time?
 
Hades:  Hermes, do me a favor, leave us alone for a minute?  I’ll explain, and then…
 
Hermes:  Good.  I’ll be… out… there.
 
Hades:  Wherever…  
 
(Hermes exits.)
 
Hades:  Persephone.  I have...good news.
 
Pers:  Good news?
 
Hades:  Yes, and I will tell you what this good news is but I must say, I’m worried you don’t eat, so first a snack.  A pomegranate.  Persephone, have a pomegranate.  They’re from our own orchard.
 
Pers:  My Lord, I’m sorry, I’m not hungry, and even if I were – a pomegranate…?
 
Hades:  I know, no one eats a whole pomegranate. A seed then, a little seed…or two…for me.
 
Pers:  Hades, my Lord, the news.  Tell me the news, please, and then maybe I’ll have a little something.
 
Hades:  Persephone, I’d like you to spend some time with your mother, and your friends.
 
Pers:  My Lord!
 
Hades:  Yes. And Hermes is here, out there…  waiting for you to have something to eat so he can take you to your mother.
 
Pers:  My Lord, this makes me so happy!
 
Hades:  Yes, and it will make your mother very happy, too.  But first a little bite.
 
Pers:  My Lord…
 
Hades:  Really, it’s such a long trip… I’m sure you don’t remember how long, but you’ll be hungry, so please, three little pomegranate seeds, and we’ll say goodbye, and you’ll be on your way.  
 
Pers:  Yes, my Lord.  Three seeds.  One for me, one for you, and one for the journey.
 
(She eats.)
 
Hades:  That’s so sweet.  Now, come, and go…
 
(They embrace, and Persephone exits.  Hades sits.  Music comes up in the background, and then the sound of a baby crying.)
 
Hades:  Already?
 
(He stands, and unfurls a leash from the table.)
 
Hades:  Cerebrus!  Come!  Dinner!
 
    (Fade to Black)
 
 
8.    The Return
 
Early Spring.
 
Dalliance complete
 
seeds eaten
 
the girl returns
 
like a ripple of silk.
 
 
A breeze
the size of
   nothing
wraps around itself
 
and
 
a crocus
opens its
infant mouth    
and sighs.
 
 
A thread of darkness
 
becomes a tendril
 
that catches warmth
 
and pushes hard buds
 
toward the sky.
 
 
Her virgin friends
awaken and
touch each others
eyes and faces
 
   they   w  h  i  s  p  e  r
 
she      is    coming…
 
Demeter smiles,
 
the earth warms.
 
 
9.      The Gathering
 
In Seattle,
God’s beautiful rain body
covers us over,
and our home
is a boat
afloat
on a sea of grass
and flowers.
 
Lavetera
sprays up
against our kitchen window.
 
Dahlias bob
in the breeze.
 
Squash
blossoms
into starfish.
 
And day lilies
buoy and beacon
against the back fence.
 
In this ocean
of planted motion
thoughts rise
like spirit-fish,
neon – dart – and flash.
 
Wonder
is luminous.
 
And the story
gathers itself
for the re-telling.
 
 
Richard Wells
May, 2008
 
 
Monday, May 5, 2008
THIS DRIFTING WORLD