The Ecstatics
Divisions and separations, a summing of consequences,
the brother whose ashes remained forever lost. Two cities
and their survivors’ shame. The loud, kind young man
whose words fell to the restaurant’s floor, unbidden.
What came next in the drift, untoward and misspent,
in the grammar of between? Darkness, suppressed.
Smoke. Pleasure and fear, unclothed.
“The Ecstatics” first appeared here in January 2016. It’s an odd piece, part of a larger sequence that I put on hold several years ago. Perhaps I’ll return to it someday.
O at the Edges 
I hope you do return to it someday. I feel left in a hallway with a half-opened door before me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think I will eventually, Jan. I’m not quite up to it yet.
LikeLike
Oh, can understand… Just passing along my 2-cents.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And I appreciate your 2-cents! It’s one of those weird ones – keeps fighting me. But one of these days…
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is the kind of fight that births many a poem, whether or not it lives to see its offspring grow up. I don’t believe the grammar of between is necessarily misspent.
LikeLiked by 1 person
But it’s often poorly used or misinterpreted. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh yes, Bob – please return!😊Love this
LikeLiked by 1 person
One of these days, Lynne!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes I understand your reluctance, and your choice my friend….. “Darkness, suppressed.
Smoke. Pleasure and fear, unclothed”.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is a conundrum.
LikeLike
I suppose you’re feeling a bit discombobulated
LikeLiked by 1 person
I do hope you’ll resurrect this! 🙂 ~ frankie
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m sure I will. At some point, things will fall into place.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“The grammar of between” is an anointed and terrible space.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And its borders are ever-shifting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is like a prayer… perfect the way it is. Please don’t add to it! Its brevity gives it its spirituality.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I won’t add to this part, but the opening sequence is five pages, and needs work.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I can understand how the intervening years would either alter or add to your perspective.
LikeLiked by 1 person
They definitely have altered perspective, and while the initial impulse still exists, how I react to it, “record” it, has changed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Intriguing prose poem perhaps in the tradition of, say, Rimbaud and Laforgue?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I never thought about the form in this piece. It just “happened,” and I went with it. But I think you’re right.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oooh, sounds powerful and full of potential healing. I’d be interested in reading more.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s an oddball piece. I’ll get back to it someday.
LikeLike
Good!
LikeLiked by 1 person