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Overview
Each poem is a song of heartbreak with one objective: to drive the reader head-over-heels into a SWOON accompanied by the customary physical effects-rosy cheeks, wet palms, and weak knees.
"En this Life En this gorgeous irony
Amid the heavyscented arpeggios Of blackbyrds & Angels wrestling En a drunken slumber
Eye am not to be the river of all things Eye am not to be his little girl" -From the poem Sappho
Beautiful, Sexy, and sometimes Cruel, Salt of the Dancer: Selected Verse paints an intimate portrait of the Soul's epic struggle with the powers and principalities of Love and Death. And, in doing so, unites the beauty and terror of existence, and trumpets the need for a brave new humanism, and a renewed love affair with the deeds and misdeeds of Man.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780595491704 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | iUniverse, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 07/21/2008 |
| Pages: | 120 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.28(d) |
Read an Excerpt
Salt of the Dancer: Selected Verse
By LogosVox
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2008 LogosVoxAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-595-49170-4
Chapter One
The Songlines
Aboriginal Creation myths tell of the legendary totemic beings who wandered over the continent in the Dreamtime singing out the name of everything that crossed their path—birds, animals, plants, rocks, waterholes—and so singing the world into existence. Bruce Chatwin
Salt of the Dancer
Burning flesh, contorting limbs
Rattling bones, aching head, pounding heart
Droplets fall from his hot, furrow'd brow
While tiny rivers run down his bare-naked thighs
And puddle onto the floor beneath his callous feet
Whereby planks of knotted wood, already rotten w/salt,
Buckle, bow and break
O felix culpa!
The curls of his Negro mane tight'n
The whytes of his eyes grow red
O felix culpa!
He dances
He is a dancer
A beautiful benediction brought b'fore the eyes of the living
A generous feast prepared for the souls of the dead
Sappho Adagio
[Orator's Vox Is Feminine, Raspy, Deliberate, And Southern
Until Songline's End.]
The Pope's bent cane of paper stiffens
Beneath her borrowed Sunday dress
And hikes it above her scared knee
Brazen off the shoulder and backless
Her gurly gurly waist is firm and tight
Awkward thighs freckled w/porcupine tears
And sepia pearls (naked en a rainy doorway)
They seek harbor from peculiar days
Dishwaterblond?
Lap danser on loan?
Well, eye think so
She cuts horse with blood drawn from a rajah's mouth
As a milky lash curls beneath her nose
As perfect skin and blades of grass adorn her tattered dress
As fibers of gold float freely en her steel blue eyes
En the sagebush
En the silvery knoll
Eye see her there
Skipping red stones across Magdalene's Wake
{One-Beat Pause}
Eye can almost smell the woodsmoke on her skin
Eye can almost hear her heart break!
Cherub Boy's Chorus:
Dogs, dogs and more dogs!
Rabid and foaming while the stars are low!
Dogs, dogs and more dogs!
Released and roaming fast behind the veil's glow!
{The Tail Of A Rattlesnake Shivers And The Orator's Vox Resumes}
A pack of well-tempered Negroes breathe on my shoulders
Whilst tickling my neck with wet, round noses and wagging neatly
combed tails
They are saying,
"Do not be afraid Martha. Come smoke her tea.
Come bruise her face w/buttermilk and sweetpotato pie.
"Ravage her soul if it pleases you;
Tell her what it is you see en the White Buffalo's hide."
Eye get dizzy and my ears burn
As a coldsweat moistens the lips of my vagina
[Soft Aside.]
They're dragons, eye giggle quietly, dragons spitting fyre
Ento my pungent kiss.
"Too many hands open;
Too many hands on me!", eye scream
{One-Beat Pause}
Negroes, drunken w/cream en their coffee,
Fall forward ento a bed of prickly roses at my feet
Rubbing my arms w/witchery
And my ankles w/mud from a dry well
They look at me w/bright y'llow eyes
And rasp,
"We are Givers Of Paradox and Stealers Of Fyre.
We are to erect an Awakening and you shall be our Foundation,
The Skull upon which we shall build."
My heart pounds as they dig a gully of stars around me
as they bathe me w/monstrous pink tongues
And laugh madly ev'rytyme eye squirm or gasp for aire
Treading clear water,
Engulfed by the tide,
Eye'm turned on
And my knees are made weak
We are all hers eye muse
And she is all ours
We shine like calf-skinned chimeras
(Sailing adrift on her blue cotton wrap)
And there isn't any need for me to worry or fret,
Nor refuse Sappho's cello en the 4th movement of Spring
Cherub Boy's Chorus:
Stars, stars and more stars!
Grandmother's hair burns sweetly en the open-aire!
Stars, stars, and more stars!
A river of flesh and bone is on fyre!
{Two-Beat Pause}
"Evermore en Avalon", the White Peacock cries!
Rows of sharp teeth, shimmering in the Lowland myst,
Sink incestuously ento the sweet meat of my upper thigh—
Breasts then shoulders are severed next
Evening and sorrow, sorrow and evening
Conspiracy en soft whispers
Sappho flings herself ento the Sea
As the Lowlands rise (once again)
And the Lady of the Lake receives her girl
"Evermore en Avalon", the White Peacock cries!
{Soft Scroll On Tambourine}
Eye hear stags whimpering en the basin caves
As they grow old and turn to gold
Eye feel water on my eyelids
And en my hair
{One-Beat Pause}
The tide covers me,
Drags my bones out to sea
And once again eye am adrift
Gales, Alchemy, Magick!
These are my waters, welcomed and wishful
my waters
Borne by earnest despair
These are my waters, a feast of calf-skins
Gorging themselves on sailors and cheap whiskey
O Jupiter, eye beg your forgiveness
These are my waters, eternal and free!
{Two-Beat Pause}
[Soft Aside.]
O Mama, it feels so good to breathe again.
Bliss
Smitten by starry nights
And locks of Bavarian gold
Smitten by the long blue train of her red dress
The way it hangs
The way it folds
Eye succumb to the fallen snow en her wind swept hair
Without the slightest fear my heart will catch its death of cold
O what hath the Gods wrought?
Proud livery for Tristan and brave Isolt?
Doves and dragons flying low en a wyntry skye?
Behold his ravishing muse
Sweet as a rose and soft as a soul
Behold
How she isolates fragility en the hardest diamond and
How she cuts her teeth on the sonnets of strange and charismatic
angels sonnets
Whose flesh becomes bread for the lasses and
Whose blood becomes a new and dangerous wine
for the masses
{One-Beat Pause}
High on her flow underground
High on her sacrament of wet earth and bliss
My lips fan the flamesofheaven
(the blonde ringlets from her eyes)
And tutor a young girl her first kiss
Dark inertia,
The whole world is on fyre!
Pigtails and braces
She burns at his feet
Deepest volcanoes stripped down to the marrow,
We fuse our bodies with rope and fever
(Blood of the moon, Semen of the Sun)
High on her flow underground
High on her sacrament of wet earth and bliss
Eye drink the immaculate rime of her Crossing
And my brown flesh cries:
Hammering nails ento the bodies of capricious hummingbyrds
Eye am reminded of how much and
how often
Disarray enshrines your ravenous eyes.
Her delicate flute as sharp as a crier's sword,
Yvonne's hair falls down around me like an American Night
Like a maiden amid ancient ceremony
Like a queen bee en flight
Arabic Spice on a bed of thorns—
Turn Over!
Arabic Tea on a bed of roses—
Turn Over!
Eye tattoo a blue feather on her left thigh
And pour African honey on snakeskin
She comes en my mouth
And then comes again
Eye smile
{One-Beat Pause}
Ancient dame,
Eye dig your tiny waist
Eye dig your hips
Eye envy your Sunday,
A cherub sailor/She's just like you
She wants to see the World
And everything en it!
Meet me under the willow tree
When the movie ends
You wanted a miracle
And that's what you'll get!
Beatrice at her bath,
Immersed en diamonds and pearls;
Formless hitchhikers west,
Encest, Magick
And Mandrake deserts en bloom
Oh, yeah
They say bliss
Is a state of mind&ndash
Lustful,
Passionate,
And Naked en the back of the brain
Oh
{One-Beat Pause}
How right they are
Man O' Wool/En Name And Deed
I
What might a spotted calf
That falleth ento milk query?
Of what stuff are
His dreams made?
His saddle bag?
His oak besom?
His walking stick?
His ratty boots?
His frayed collar?
His Turkish wine skin?
O but why stop there
When all poets are madmen
But not all madmen are poets?
When all thieves are liars, drunkards, braggarts and cheats
But not all liars, drunkards, braggarts and cheats
Are thieves!
II
Why not petition the Waves with nonsense words?
Why not query a King his obligation
or a Scribe (beneath the floor boards) his meter?
or a Porter en good standing with the village Har
Whose tea cups sound a sober, clarion call?
Better yet,
Why not petition an Isle beneath the Waves
Or query a man o' wool his memories
Memories beckoned at an ungodly hour
Within the confines of a Lady's garden bower
Where smiths forge gods
And feed the hearth
Bone of jaguar and
Skull of shark
III
Teller of tales,
He is a gleeman
And spinner of yarns
A cliché to be sure
But nevertheless this ... is ... what ... he ... does
En name and deed
When god's back is turned
En name and deed
When canneries burn
En name and deed
When the glass lyre (seldom asleep en his lap)
Gambols and sings
En name and deed
When the dinner bell rings
En name and deed
When the duke's train pulls ento the station
En name and deed
When broken tablets of ancient stone
Recognise (with a sad and heavy heart)
The canal city buried beneath him
Ethereal Tongues
Here, En A Room Full Of Candles,
Her Memory Serves Her Far Too Well
{Two-Beat Pause}
Like Talons Of A Junkie's Prayer
Like Broken Glass En The Night
His Fingernails Cut Her Thighs Until Her Stockings Bled
And Her Voice Croon'd,
"Women Are Pretty Things;
Vulnerable Fish
2 Be Fucked, Beaten
& Fed."
Ethereal Tongues And Twisted Tails
2Nite She's Brash And Abandons Her Fears
2Nite She's Drunk (Drowning En Crocodile Tears)
{One-Beat Pause}
Too Much Mescaline Too Much Wine
Her Eyes Roll/Erratic Breath/Unexpected Boom!
[A Soft Vox.]
Ashamed Of Rumors
Ashamed Of Blood On The Walls
Ashamed Of Lies Grown Terribly, Terribly Tall
Ashamed Of What Eye've Become Enside Your Head
Eye Hear What They Say When Your Lips Touch Mine
When We Giggle
When We Purrr
Eye Hear What They Say
And Eye Am Wrecked
{One-Beat Pause}
Her Estrangement Is The Quickening Of Kafkaian Butterflies
Upon Hearing The News God Is Dead
It's A Strange Telepathy
It's Such A Scary Thing
Those Omniscient Waters
Those Shivering Black Marbles
Those Deep-Liquid Chasms Darker Than Darkest Night
Where His Compassion Is Sought But Never Found
How Many Tymes Must She Put The Gun 2 Her Head?
How Many Tymes Must She Let Him Stick It En?
How Many Tymes Must She Poison The Wine?
Don't Get Too Close Don't Get Too Close
He Might Hurt You You Might Hurt Me
His Eyes Are Too Dark Your Eyes Are Too Dark
Inoculated W/Tooth Nail Inoculated W/Bullet Betrayal
Like The Lizard's Skin Like The Alligator's Hide
Babe, Don't Get Too Close I Shouldn't Get Too Close
He Might Hurt You 2 Your Soul! You Might Hurt Me 2 My Soul!
Five
Purple prose be damned!
When a magpie, on a freezing, blustery wynter's morn
Sharpens his beak to sing
his raspy voice en falsetto
his priestly sleeves rolled-up
his metallic armor off
Lo, a metamorphosis occurs!
(his soulful call set free)
{Cowbell-Twice}
Now a philosopher,
He strikes a match against the back leg of his favorite chair
En a room of mirrors
En a room of dust-covered tomes
Where he pulls you onto his lap,
Takes your right hand
And buries his nose en a tuft of red hair
Curled behind your Sinister ear
Lo, a smokeless flame rises!
(his soulful ba set free)
{Cowbell-Twice}
Now a handsome thief,
He enters your bedroom at dusk,
Smells your fragrant pillow
And listens to your Angels pluck strings
He hears them getting gin drunk
He hears them on piano
He hears them flutter their wings
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Salt of the Dancer: Selected Verse by LogosVox Copyright © 2008 by LogosVox. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
The Songlines....................1Salt of the Dancer....................3
Sappho Adagio....................4
Bliss....................9
Man O' Wool/En Name And Deed....................13
Ethereal Tongues....................16
Five....................18
Elephant Graveyard....................21
Song of Tristan....................24
Cruelty....................27
An Epistle of Reconciliation....................30
The Soul Factory's Maithuna Suite....................31
Sappho....................33
Conversation at Midnight *....................37
A Song 4 the Mourner....................39
An American Negro Poet (Harlem Supper Club, Circa 1959)....................41
If you meet the Goddess Persephone on the Road....................49
Song of Jehovah....................52
What is Poured Forth?....................61
The Requiem....................63
Serenade 4 Angels....................65