Thursday, August 25, 2005

From Out of Chaos, Form

The last days of August have arrived much cooler and drier, threatening us with September clearly and with stark malice. But that’s the way it is. The one benefit of course is all that confusion from all that heat is finally dissipating. One can begin to arrange random thoughts into some kind of order. Of course, there’s the question of order itself. Is there any such thing? Or is it some such fantasy? At best a temporary stay that lasts at most a nanosecond. And then begins disordering. So we place our words in order:
Sonnet August Twenty-One

At its cooler right and final, August,
nine-month, with catastrophe of stretch,
so life would inescapably indeed
a just more livable into the weather
was July when irrevocable
September was emaciated much
my universe, the breathing why is long
that’s called its incubation of my part
collaborating worst or August me
too soon is every best convinced a wonder
weep, the element and living death
and only younger time in enemy
is fine at insect-eaten and that June
and in the leaves and drier otherwise.

~Rivers 2005 Son
And then watch them disorder:
Sonnet August Twenty-Two

In that final stretch of August, cooler,
drier, much more livable and right,
when time is irrevocably convinced
the fine catastrophe that’s called September
is indeed so inescapable
the weather is collaborating with
the enemy, a younger me would weep
into the insect-eaten and too soon
emaciated leaves and wonder why
my life was only June July and August
long, and otherwise my universe
of every breathing part and element
was just in incubation at its best
or at its worst a nine-month living death.

~Son Rivers 2005
Who’s to know which what is whose reality when. Or vice versa.

3 comments:

abeth said...

Hi Greg
I like your sonnet for Aug 22.It brings back memories of the 50s and 60s. I was a bit confused by the 21st so I guess you might say I like some sort of order.

Glad to see your back. Are you maybe having "vacation lag"? I got it last March after a 3 week vacation in California. I hadn't been on a real vacation since I left there over 12 years ago. Thought I never would get ? re-integrated when I got back but I finally did.

aBeth

ashleycrow said...

I will put Chaos into fourteen lines
And keep him there; and let him thence escape
If he be lucky; let him twist, and ape
Flood, fire, and demon --- his adroit designs
Will strain to nothing in the strict confines
Of this sweet order, where, in pious rape,
I hold his essence and amorphous shape,
Till he with Order mingles and combines.
Past are the hours, the years of our duress,
His arrogance, our awful servitude:
I have him. He is nothing more nor less
Than something simple not yet understood;
I shall not even force him to confess;
Or answer. I will only make him good.

-- Edna St. Vincent Millay

Greg said...

abeth, i'm having summer lag!

Ashley, thanks. And Bravo! Edna.