eclipse Posted December 14, 2017 Share Posted December 14, 2017 A river spoke to me in a dream, I had to tell it the red moon's reflection was not a wound. Soldiers do not want hear about the mechanics of laparotomy, Quenu knew battle had changed, death hissed at his paradigm, we had mobile units, early evacuations, transport for the wounded-the winds of propaganda could not slow down echoes of standardization. The wind went blind one night, I was woken by it hands examining my stomach for a wound, my needle's eye is blind and the end is bent, Quenu refused the wings that heaven sent, he dug and his spade met and touched that of the angel digging the war out of false consciousness. I am a surgeon not a visionary but I can see the lost vision of my patients turning into ambulances. I have become an agent, a physician of the soul-I have to remain pure as the many wives of war tempt me with despair and ravage me with rage, one wife whispers "emotive psychosis", another "obnubliation". A strange inversion grips me when I listen to patients, like mountains are climbing me and seas are drowning in me. The winter has psychosis, it's winds are linear, soldiers tell me of there synesthesia-they hear snow flakes scream and blood sing. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JoelJosol Posted December 23, 2017 Share Posted December 23, 2017 The title told me that I might encounter medical terms in the body of the poem. The initial line set the tone - this maybe more than just a metaphor. I am in a dream where anything can happen. The series of words that followed - red moon, wound, soldiers, surgery - transported me to a battle zone and probably an improvided medical/surgical site. There appears to be a transition, coming out of the dream, into another reality in the second stanza. Whether this is another dream is not clear to me at this point. Quenu, now more defined as an angel without wings. Not clear though if it were the vision that was turning into ambulances or the patients at this point. The "I" finally identified himself as a surgeon. But there is a transition - from surgeon to 'physician of the soul'. Does that imply becoming a psychiatrist? Is the soul referring to the mind? The keywords that followed appear to confirm this - despair, rage, psychosis, and synesthesia. How that transitioned happened and if we are now still in the dream or not is not clear to me. If this poem, eclipse, tried to deliver hallucination as an experience, then it does not have to explain things. Just experience it. But it does create a collage of images of war and closes with it - snow flakes scream and blood sing. Quote "Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted December 24, 2017 Share Posted December 24, 2017 On 12/23/2017 at 9:49 AM, JoelJosol said: But there is a transition - from surgeon to 'physician of the soul'. Does that imply becoming a psychiatrist? Interesting observation. There has to be a lot of depression going around in wartime settings. Though I've only read some translations, one of my favorite poets is Georg Trakl. He was medic during WWI. Tony GEORG TRAKL (PMO topic) Quote Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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