Silence Sestina

Silence Sestina*
 
In what darkened, 
ragged, 
screaming
fire
does the kiss
of silence never

see? Or ever
darkly,
kisses
raged
evening fire
that loves while screaming?

In what screaming,
never
fired,
dark, 
hot ragged 
tropic does your kiss

descend to kiss
my scream:
ragged,
nev’r
silent, dark
burning yearning fire?

You rise to fire
my kiss
in dark
screams
that never
suffer your ragged,

silent, blunt rag-
ing fire;
never
kiss
my screaming
silent darkness?

In my forced silence, I can never kiss 
your ragged fire, your oblique passion, 
in the shared silence of our screaming dark.

c 2016 James Rovira
16 October 2016, Brookhaven, MS
IHOP

A note on form and sources: I’ve been reading Neil Gaiman’s Sandman vol. 3 lately — many thanks to @DWhiteDaniel for lending me his copies — and came across Gaiman’s creation of an author being driven mad by ideas in vol. 3 (trust me, the guy deserved it. But better than trusting me, buy a copy for yourself and see why). One of his ideas was a “sestina about silence, using the key words dark, ragged, never, screaming, fire, kiss.”

Since reading that, I wanted to try my hand at such a sestina. This is it. I also invented a consistent syllabic rotation for this one (somewhat arbitrarily 4-2-2-1-3-5), which I follow through stanzas 1-6. The envoi is written in blank verse. I got up ridiculously early this morning, couldn’t get back to sleep, and decided I’d rather do this than grading. Many thanks to IHOP in Brookhaven for its similarly ridiculous attempt at eggs benedict and for keeping the coffee coming.

I think the best tribute to any author is to say that he made you want to write.

The Only Question

The Only Question

…and that is when he came to me, 
the great sucking darkness, the formless
one, not a place where anyone or anything
is, but the place where everything is not
(at least as far as he can help it). And that 
is when he said to me, “Do it.” He said only
that at first: “Do it.” But then he said, “You
know you want to.” And I hesitated to answer,
because there is no point talking back to him: 
there is no reasoning with him. He is a void
that does not give, a depth with no surface. 
But I could not help but wonder out loud,
“So what?”

…and that is when the light appeared. 
When he appeared, the other vanished as if
he had never existed, because he didn’t. 
The light filled the room, the house, the universe,
and it flowed through me as I bathed in it, 
and I knew that it was love. And the light
said, “I want you to do it too.” I could not process 
that moment in which God and the devil agreed, 
where they both wanted me to do the same thing. 
I realized at that time that there was no
question about what was to be done. 
The only question to be asked was,
“Why was I doing it?” 

c 2016 James Rovira
09-10-16 MS | Image Credit