Maria - A poem

This little Greek, so rare a find,

her name should be a symphony!

She might have been a deity

but Oh!: Maria!

With such address will I her cover?

I think not:

‘Tis spread too far, ‘tis wore too thin

and thinner still

with every day

as yet another pious mother

takes a halo for her tears.

So full of grace?

This name is faceless! Base! Unfaithful to her pagan soul!

Maria, girl, you cannot be

so what address might I give thee?

Might I turn unto her tongue where rarities take shape?

‘Tis a language made to measure

fit, perhaps, to dress a treasure.

Now let me see…

Ourani, Irini, Elpidha, Sophia:

What wondrous forms these are!

But then again:

Could sky, peace, hope or truth

ever cover all of you?

So fine a form, so rare a find

with hidden depths, an open mind…

I cannot draw a line!

You are the one: a world to me

and I would need

a dictionary of Greek to find the words to cover thee.

And even then I fear

that though they had a word for it

those ancients never had enough to cover all of you.

What shall I do?

To make a world a symphony

I needs must turn to alchemy

then I might forge a language new

and hammer out a word or two

with sounds as deep as funeral bells,

to penetrate like armoured shells:

Two coins to place upon her eyes,

I’d pin her down with my design

her measure and her treasures mine.

But wait…

What terms are these?

Speaks my tongue my heart?

In play I pray I’ve chased her down this page.

But to what end?

To grasp?

To apprehend?

What mean these words?

What aim be mine:

Do I enshrine, do I enslave;

divine or maim with my design?

My alchemy is fantasy

and ‘tis best can never be:

Short change would I receive from coins that put her in a box.

That she should live beyond compare,

the one, a world, so fine and rare a find,

defiant of my pliant tongue,

is both my joy and my despair:

My life is full, my senses flood,

my heart feels fit to burst its blood red pulsing burden in a single breath:

My love’s address unto the world!

No sound resounds.

No name I’ve found.

Breast bound my joy in darkness dwells.

My tether’s end is white…

…  My tether’s end is white?

What’s this I find?

‘Tis death again!

Who moves this pen?

A day of play I said!

Not quite content to bury her

you’d throttle me instead?

Enough! I’ll put an end to this --

Where went my pen when last I mastered heart and voice?...

Ah yes:

“I would need a diction’ry”

Now I see.

Away this graven imag’ry!

Speak! my heart, and set us free!

Oh little Greek, Oh world I’ve found

Oh never ending diction’ry

Upon the wind of my desire

I see your precious pages fan

and flutter like a flock of dappled doves.

Thick with definitions writ, I read each one upon the wing,

and as they turn

I blow a kiss

then take a breath

then start to sing:

A Virgo pure yet mutable

    My element, unstable

A mine of hope, a dragon’s lair

    Athina’s owl with raven hair

A fleshy statue soft and strong

    A galaxy…

Will I go on?

Oh let me never cover you

but kiss you always on the wing

And make of my discoveries

An ever greater tapestry,

A symphony without a key,

A song for us to sing.

Notes

Line 5: “With such address will I her cover?”

This line plays on two meanings: to cover someone with an address means to give them a ‘title’ or ‘name’.  However, address can also be interpreted as ‘a dress’, i.e. an item of clothing. The idea that naming or understanding someone might involve imposing your own design on them is central to this poem.

Line 10: “as yet another pious mother”

           Pious: defined by false devotion.

Line 12: “So full of grace?”

From the first line of the rosary: a common catholic prayer: “Hail Mary full of grace.”

Lines 13-15: “Base!...thee?”

           Base: common

Thee is an old English way of saying ‘you’.

Line 32: “that though they had a word for it”

From: “The Greeks had a word for it”:  A common English figure of speech used when trying to find the right word.

          

Line 37: “then I might forge a language new”

           To forge: to shape metal.

Line 41: “Two coins to place upon her eyes”

In ancient cultures coins were placed on the eyes of the dead before burial.

Line 42: “I’d pin her down with my design”

           To pin down: literally, to trap; but also ‘to understand’.

           Design: Creation; but also ‘intention’, ‘will’, or ‘plan’.

Line 43: “Her measure and her treasures mine”

           To measure: to understand --  usually in order to control.

Lines 49-50: “grasp… apprehend”

Both these words mean to understand; but once again they suggest notions of control, possession and even violence.

Lines: 53-54: “Do I enshrine, do I enslave;

          divine or maim with my design?”

To enshrine: to hold sacred; to treasure; to place in a sacred position.

To divine: to perceive or to understand something as though by a supernatural power.

To maim: to injure or disable part of the body of a person or animal.

By this question I want to ask: if the common language we use to describe the process of understanding often suggests notions of possession, control and even violence, how innocently do we understand?   We often talk about the need to understand.  What aims do we seek to fulfil?:  to control the world?; to manipulate it to our advantage?  More importantly, how can we ourselves know the reasons why we seek to understand something when the language used to explain these reasons, to ourselves as well as others, is so ambiguous?  When in love we often use metaphors to describe our partner: my baby, honey.  Do we use such terms innocently or to deform the true nature of our love in order to shape it to our own needs?

Line 60: “Defiant of my pliant tongue”

           Defiant:  marked by resistance; challenging.

           Pliant:  easily modified; adaptable; flexible.

Line 68: “My tether’s end is white”

Tether: rope.  To be “at the end of one’s tether” means to be exasperated; to have failed.

Line 81: “Away this graven imag’ry!”

Graven: in this case ‘of the grave’; but also meaning ‘strongly fixed’.

Lines 93-95: “A Virgo pure yet mutable

             My element, unstable

         A mine of hope, a dragon’s lair”

Virgo, the virgin, is a mutable or changeable earth sign.

Element:  Unstable chemical elements, such as Uranium 235 emit radioactivity in the process of changing into other elements.  But element also means ‘the situation in which a person is happiest or most effective’.

Dragon’s lair: In mythology, usually a cave in which the dragon hides stolen treasure.

Line 103: “An ever greater tapestry”

Tapestry: an ornamental fabric, often in the form of a picture, used for wall hangings, furnishings etc., and made by weaving coloured threads into a fixed warp.