a villanelle for vishap
I love the word "dim." As in: "Faintly outlined; indistinct: a dim figure in the distance." Or: "Obscure to the mind or the senses: a dim recollection of the accident." My dim, dim past. Do you ever re-read notes you leave for yourself, notes you lose and months later re-discover?1 Here is one I wrote concerning Washington DC restaurants, then forgot to post. It actually has a lot to do with dim-sum, apparently.
Thank you for your advise with A&J. I am always on the look out for yummy dim-sum, and I have had so much fun reading your blog late Sunday night/ early Monday morning, I didn't know which post to comment on.
Except I wrote this back in August. August, folks! All I need is an irrate thunder-spirit to stomp on my head and all will be well. Like the Baal or Baalim, the "various local fertility and nature gods of the ancient Semitic peoples considered to be false gods by the Hebrews," from which all our dim, modern religions spring. Speaking of which, according to Encyclopedia Mythica, Vishap is: "an evil Armenian thunder-spirit who tramples the crops in the shape of a camel or a donkey." Thus the blog title, thus the villanelle.
I love this dimness
in my throat; this song.
All my, "baalim-ness,"
rising. I, magus,
I have sung long;
I sing this dimness
the beast brings. Taurus
the Bull? No, a strong
fury, "baalim-ness."
Vishap, the faceless
ass? Vishap! What's wrong
to love this dimness,
all this furious
murk? Yes, these words throng
my throat, "baalim-ness"
of the fields. Chorus
we sing, we belong
to all this dimness,
all this, "baalim-ness."
- Just like Zaphod burning his initials into his own brain so his dim self will know he's suppose to recall something important? [back]