LOUISE BOGAN

PSYCHIATRIST'S SONG

Those
Concerning whom they have never spoken and thought never to
       speak;
That place
Hidden, preserved,
That even the exquisite eye of the soul
Cannot completely see.
But they are there:
Those people, and that house, and that evening, seen
Newly above the dividing window sash -
The young will broken
And all time to endure.

Those hours when murderous wounds are made,
Often in joy.

I hear.
But far away are the mango trees (the mangrove swamps, the
          mandrake root...)
And the thickets of - are they palms?
I watch them as though at the edge of sleep.
I often journey toward them in a boat without oars,
Trusting to rudder and sail.
Coming to the shore, I step out of the boat; I leave it to its anchor;
And I walk fearlessly through ripples of both water and sand.
Then the shells pebbles are beneath my feet.

Then these, too, recede,
And I am on firm dry land, with, closely waiting,
A hill all sifted over with shadw
Wherein the silence waits.

Farewell, phantoms of flesh and of ocean!
Vision of earth
Heal and recieve me.

Have you forgotten what I was?

What now will you see by?

spirit that passeth
into earth, terror,
or peace ad infinitum


*

And the sound of the sea thereafter -

JEANNE D'ARC

SAINT JOAN

‘…May the Lord so keep me...’

1.
Forsaking exile, God
appeared before the child. And a cry arose,
as twilight settled above the hills, panorama
of moon and stars; the epoch before God –

Thus the child was sworn.

Within the summoned flesh,
the gift at last apparent—
though partial—

As is all
fate, all freedom.

2.
So little to be made
of youth, of childhood. In Domrémy
the villagers weep, bearing
wax candles in a coiled procession.

And everywhere the lament
of doves, cries,
the ascending arias of inhuman sorrow –

As far away, above
the sound of the Seine, the surface of the water tainted,
stained with human blood, the child kneels, weeping.

What has she seen?

The first rains of spring
pooled in the clear throats of the lilies, deepening
then bleeding
colour from the wildflowers.

3.
Neither punishment,
nor sacrifice. The trivial flesh
unburdened; as against bare stone
the abstracted
body of a woman –

In the empty courtyard, the Bishop
kneels before the Blessed Virgin,
meaning to pray. Perhaps for forgiveness,
perhaps for pity.

So God shrank
from heaven: an emanation, an walked
as one among men of the earth -

Beyond the courtyard, arpeggios gutter from the dented throats of stone angels.

4.

What child does not worship suffering?

So the child swore:
‘A premonition: I foresaw my death’ –

In the cell’s darkness,
it was as though a soul appeared,
at once transfigured:

Fire will know no such brilliance
before the consummation
of your body.

So the child swore:
‘My body: all that remains of my childhood’.

At the barred door, in whispers,
the armed guards strip themselves of all armour.

5.
What good to cry out?

Late spring: an image
of waste, of disappointment.

‘Lord, who granted my solitude,
the world will have me as it pleases.
Before the pyre, I ask that my body
be transformed to nothing human:
to be neither living nor dead.
By Your grace I would kneel again,
I would kneel again beside you –

How my body
rose in that blaze, leaving no ash scattered in its wake.'

THE STARS DON'T DIMINISH THOUGH THEY BURN AND BURN

What's your name little boy?

My name is Waking Hell.

MANITOU POEM

To enter this world was to step into, not out of, the real world.
 - Selwyn Dewendy, The Sacred Scrolls of Southern Qjibway

So I must stand away from the stone to enter the stone,
to dream the idea of the stone, the stone which is all stones,
_______ the first and final stone,
its source being, its manitou.

As in puberty I dreamed my lifelong protector, who showed me
how to navigate impossible rivers, who made me as the world's
________first person, breathing
fire and poetry.

The strangers who divided the world into good & evil were wrong.
The Great Lynx Misshipeshu who dwells beneath ambivalent water
________is both benevolent
lord, and devil.

And I am become the powerful dreamer who dreams his way through
to reality, to enter and ignite the stone, to illumine
________from withing
its perfect paradox, its name.