#eurydice underground

[eurydiceunderground]

Never again shall we see one another Remember I await our life together

Apollinaire tr: roger shattuck

[eurydiceunderground]

Wake me up when you want to do that thing where we are wordlessly watching things from the window. It will be so random and powerful.

From The 7 Worst Things You Could Do For Your Elm on UUT Poetry

[eurydiceunderground]

love is an evil word

...

& love is an evil word. Turn it backwards/see, see what I mean? An evol word. & besides who understands it? I certainly wouldn't like to go out on that kind of limb.

--Amiri Baraka from "In Memory of Radio"

[eurydiceunderground]

it is hard to write for no audience, to write for yourself, especially when you despise the personal.

try writing for yourself when you are dead and everyone around you is forgetting everything, including you.

try writing for yourself when you don't have a self and the man you used to project yourself onto is still alive, playing deafeningly loud about the absence of you.

he loves his lament for me.

i'm going to have to make myself up.  maybe write for this audience of shades.  they will forget everything i say, all of it, every word, every phrase. 

i will sequence timeless dark into little spans of now.  with words. 

--E (underground)

[eurydiceunderground]

and next...

i've queued a bunch of posts about black holes. they are all quotes from the hubble telescope site (each quote will include a citing link) ...but you might prefer to read them metaphorically... I think they might be all for Orpheus. --E

[eurydiceunderground]

Well, I'm here looking through an old picture frame Just waiting for the perfect view I hope something special will step into my life Another fine edition of you

ROXY MUSIC - EDITIONS OF YOU

[eurydiceunderground]

Eurydice Underground:

Dear Orpheus,

You're still singing but always the same songs.  The songs that moved stones and silenced beasts.  

The stones pile up.  How will you get out? The stag, the great bear, the wild dogs, gather.  Make new songs.  Songs that crack stones.  Hear the beasts howl, bellow, rut in accompaniment. 

The new songs, I can hear them.  They come from the place we are supposed to go.  A shining cypress stands above its reflection in a deep lake you must not stop there.  Go further, into the gloom, where water moves quickly over black stones, clear and chilling.

When a man leaves his soul under the earth, a pack of women will sniff him out.  That is how it will end.  Torn apart, with bare hands and dull teeth, limb by bloody limb.  When a man abandons his soul, the furious women do not pity.  They are hungry and you, you stagger.  You smell of absence.  It is hard to explain--something like lilies held in your bleeding hands all charred by a chemical fire.  See how you clutch your lyre, knuckles clawing over the strings?

I would assist you, but I'm stuck down here.  Where you left me. 

Do not tarry.

Love,

Eurydice

[eurydiceunderground]