Coverpage (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} primroseport) wrote,@ 2006-12-15 01:07:00 |
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Terriblisma
Terriblisma [Draft 2.5]
Right under your nose, the Corinthian mushroom rose
Drew its anvil cloud above them like a shroud
They were kites on a string harried in the afterwind
That raptured its way through the crowds
With all the pomp of Pompeii, they were penitent and fey
Still praying as their bodies turned to ash
Head over heels, they were rolled away like wheels
While their eyes changed to cream at the flash
They were rinsing off skin, melting down like paraffin
Left their shadows like chalk marks on the walls
They were people no more, they were mannequins in gore
Ghouls in their Sunday finest, one and all
How it almost looked like art when their city flew apart
Like a painting of a sunset on the sea
They were haiku on a page, mere catharsis on a stage
Like a painting of a sunset on the sea
A tableau vivant of misery(?)
________________________
"The Renaissance Italians had a term, "terriblisma," by which they meant the strange, gratified awe one feels when beholding dreadful disasters and acts of God from afar." --Alex Steffen
Major revision. The poem began as a fable about the good ol' apocalypse, hence the repeated "once upon a time" phrase and the original last two lines, which jumped forward to proceeding generations, who are afflicted with the long-lasting effects of radiation (Chernobylity) and who live in waste. But then I titled the lyric "Terriblisma", quite possibly my favorite word, one I'd been waiting to use. A few days went by, and I realized I wanted to minimize the "once upon a time" and maximize the terriblisma.
I have changed the first line to introduce a second-person character looking down (from a bomber plane?) on devastation; changed the first-person-plural victims to third-person; changed the tense to present... then back to past; changed the last four lines completely, leaving only a suggestion of the former "cities flew apart like ocean foam" line. My intention was to give the sense that someone witnessed this detonation from a safe distance and derived some kind of artistic enjoyment or thrill from the mass destruction--essentially, someone experienced terriblisma. And so am I for singing it, and so are you for reading it.
The Hiroshima allusions are only partly intentional. In the first draft, I included what I had known about people's shadows being "burned" on surfaces behind them. Otherwise, I treated the nuclear detonation (originally multiple detonations) like a generic apocalyptic scenario. But you may be thinking, anyone who writes about nuclear explosions in urban areas, whether he likes it or not, is writing about Hiroshima, isn't he? And you may be right. I reinforced this implication by including the word "haiku" in my revision, but this was only out of a desire to use a more specific word than "poem", and at the time, haiku seemed right--more colorful and appropriately ephemeral than a leaden, stuffy word like "sonnets". I pretty much sealed the deal (pressed the red button?) by adding that high-flying witness at the beginning. So I guess it is about Hiroshima? But more importantly it's about terriblisma.
I've sat here for an hour looking for a last line, but I can't find it, so I'm just repeating the sunset line. I'm not even sure I like the four last lines; they seem unlovely and disjointed, poetically speaking, but that's why I write lyrics, not poetry. It'll be fine when it is sung, one hopes.
While I'm self-criticizing aloud, I might as well mention that there's a strange disconnect between the close-in, detailed observations of lines 5-12 as compared with the other lines, especially the last four, which take a wide-angle lens as far back as possible. Highly telescopic voyeurism, I guess. I had better zoom out, myself, before I find too many other flaws.
More revisions to come.
PS I will probably write a poem about Chernobyl, and maybe, just maybe, Tunguska. Notice a pattern?
Terriblisma [Draft 2.5]
Right under your nose, the Corinthian mushroom rose
Drew its anvil cloud above them like a shroud
They were kites on a string harried in the afterwind
That raptured its way through the crowds
With all the pomp of Pompeii, they were penitent and fey
Still praying as their bodies turned to ash
Head over heels, they were rolled away like wheels
While their eyes changed to cream at the flash
They were rinsing off skin, melting down like paraffin
Left their shadows like chalk marks on the walls
They were people no more, they were mannequins in gore
Ghouls in their Sunday finest, one and all
How it almost looked like art when their city flew apart
Like a painting of a sunset on the sea
They were haiku on a page, mere catharsis on a stage
A tableau vivant of misery(?)
________________________
"The Renaissance Italians had a term, "terriblisma," by which they meant the strange, gratified awe one feels when beholding dreadful disasters and acts of God from afar." --Alex Steffen
Major revision. The poem began as a fable about the good ol' apocalypse, hence the repeated "once upon a time" phrase and the original last two lines, which jumped forward to proceeding generations, who are afflicted with the long-lasting effects of radiation (Chernobylity) and who live in waste. But then I titled the lyric "Terriblisma", quite possibly my favorite word, one I'd been waiting to use. A few days went by, and I realized I wanted to minimize the "once upon a time" and maximize the terriblisma.
I have changed the first line to introduce a second-person character looking down (from a bomber plane?) on devastation; changed the first-person-plural victims to third-person; changed the tense to present... then back to past; changed the last four lines completely, leaving only a suggestion of the former "cities flew apart like ocean foam" line. My intention was to give the sense that someone witnessed this detonation from a safe distance and derived some kind of artistic enjoyment or thrill from the mass destruction--essentially, someone experienced terriblisma. And so am I for singing it, and so are you for reading it.
The Hiroshima allusions are only partly intentional. In the first draft, I included what I had known about people's shadows being "burned" on surfaces behind them. Otherwise, I treated the nuclear detonation (originally multiple detonations) like a generic apocalyptic scenario. But you may be thinking, anyone who writes about nuclear explosions in urban areas, whether he likes it or not, is writing about Hiroshima, isn't he? And you may be right. I reinforced this implication by including the word "haiku" in my revision, but this was only out of a desire to use a more specific word than "poem", and at the time, haiku seemed right--more colorful and appropriately ephemeral than a leaden, stuffy word like "sonnets". I pretty much sealed the deal (pressed the red button?) by adding that high-flying witness at the beginning. So I guess it is about Hiroshima? But more importantly it's about terriblisma.
I've sat here for an hour looking for a last line, but I can't find it, so I'm just repeating the sunset line. I'm not even sure I like the four last lines; they seem unlovely and disjointed, poetically speaking, but that's why I write lyrics, not poetry. It'll be fine when it is sung, one hopes.
While I'm self-criticizing aloud, I might as well mention that there's a strange disconnect between the close-in, detailed observations of lines 5-12 as compared with the other lines, especially the last four, which take a wide-angle lens as far back as possible. Highly telescopic voyeurism, I guess. I had better zoom out, myself, before I find too many other flaws.
More revisions to come.
PS I will probably write a poem about Chernobyl, and maybe, just maybe, Tunguska. Notice a pattern?
