not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Monday, July 2, 2012

existence, part vi (woman)


and so he named her, woman

she was quaking in her nightdress in the side yard,
naming things in whispers like tree and sparrow and breeze.
her nightdress blew against her body and suggested she had a form
but her trembling suggested it was no one thing.
what was she up to by naming the world?
it was a game she played, only she didn't really understand it.
what she wanted (and this was a secret even to herself)
was for someone to tell her she was here.
it was she who wanted a name.

14 comments:

  1. naming to have a name - the curse of the invisible eye - that they called her the sinner Eve was almost a gift...

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    Replies
    1. william, your response gives me chills, i intended the words to be an arrow and for me to be the woman. i wonder then if every woman is eve (?) somehow this is right, each one of us, in our naming, the first individual, the first fallible human.

      the curse of the invisible eye - that they saw her was a gift. that they indited her for being eve was wrong. what can we be if not ourselves?

      xo
      erin

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    2. "I am was before Abraham"

      I loved this the moment I heard it

      Love
      kj

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  2. Recognizing and naming, in order to be counted, to be recognized and named. Brilliant, beyond words! The concept is elegant and earthshaking, beyond religion, beyond philosophy.

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    Replies
    1. rosaria, you make me smile shyly. it is not earth shattering at all but ordinary. we do it every day to the world around us and for each other, and our yearning for it for ourselves is our lifetime.

      xo
      erin

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  3. we go about the world naming things, all the while hoping to stumble over our own names. we are truly peculiar beings.

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    Replies
    1. we are, andreas, the strangest. we are always pulled inside out or walking backwards to see from where we came.

      xo
      erin

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  4. Hi Erin,

    For some reason the tech gods are now permitting me to comment on your site. I must have done something good. Even though you have not seen my comments I have ben following the evolution of your writing. It reminds me of the German Romantic poets of the 19th century; introspective, deep, dark, touching on very specific psychological moments common to all humanity; isolated yet universal.

    Ted

    All that deep and secret glow.
    If suspicious sparks should issue
    From the roses, fearless be !
    This dull world in flames believes not,
    But believes them poetry.

    ONCE more from that fond heart I'm driver
    Which I so dearly love, so madly ;
    Once more from that fond heart I'm driven -
    Beside it would I linger gladly,
    The chariot rolls, the bridge is quaking,
    The stream beneath it flows so sadly ;
    Once more the joys am I forsaking

    heinrich heine

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    Replies
    1. ted, you give me far too much credit. i am one (small) woman only trying to live. the words are accidental, or incidental.

      what a beautiful and complicated poem you offer. so it is with life, eh:)

      xo
      erin

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  5. Replies
    1. it is)))) thank you for seeing me))

      xo
      erin

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  6. You are named "Tiny Leaf",,,unique,,doncha reckon?

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    Replies
    1. oh glenn, i imagine there are not two of me. the world should take a deep breath and say thank you:)

      xo
      erin

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"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))