23
Dec
10

Dread Aubade


                        Neighborhood's stirring. Meaning soon we wake.
                     Take
                  it easy. When it comes time to, I'll help pack.
                        Back
            in bed, you. Come let's turn our dream back on.
                           Dawn
      will turn it off behind us after you're gone
         leaving me a day dropping in as unanticipated
            as being forgotten. God, of all you've created,
                                 take back dawn!


8 Responses to “Dread Aubade”


  1. 2011.01.01 at 7:32 am

    This was beautiful…

    A true aubade – one that I know would have been very much appreciated by a dear friend I once had.

    I hope that your wish was granted in some way – that the dawn was at least delayed enough to make the most of the edge between the darkness and the full of the day.

    M.L.

  2. 2011.01.08 at 11:03 am

    And long after dawn has touched us with its cold hard silence, I will not have left. I will be here when you can come back to us. I love you. And you know I still will.

  3. 2011.01.24 at 11:21 pm

    I keep coming back to this…

    What you have done here – shames and inspires me at once.

    Dedication, love – purity…but even more

    I look for her words here.

    Some sign that she knows how blessed she was – how deeply you touched.

    It is then that I know that my only power – the only way I can express how important you have been to me – is to leave my own words here for you to find.

    But they aren’t only mine…

    They are the words that may (will) some day become everything you have looked for (or so I hope)
    and they are the ones I see every day now – even as I think of them myself.

    Paraphrased perhaps – but only altered enough to express what I want for you.

    “Come back home – love”

    And when you can – love will be waiting for you dearest of weavers – just as it has waited all along.

    L,L.

  4. 2011.01.26 at 2:59 pm

    takes my breath away more every time i read it. which i can’t do without choking up remembering how your voice sounded on it. and you whispering after, almost like you thought he might not hear if you said it soft enough to be heard only by anyone as close as i was then, “let there be no light” like we would have been fine leaving everything void and without form, since that would be enough to make a good night of it, as long as we had the love to create with

    and i can hear the three questions you held here, as clearly as if you had given them their punctuation and inflection, almost as if you knew this might have to hold us until our next night, through a dawn i felt you dreading more than the word could express, for how long you feared it might stretch, in the uncertainty that was to follow the light

    yet you smiled when you recited it, and i felt you knew then in a way that this dawn can never take away from you: love lives past the dawn

    as unanticipated as being forgotten. freedom out of the form. vision out of the substance. the power and breath of your love. you knew if that were something to dread, it was a good thing

    so yes, do come back home. love

    you’ve lost nothing to your dawn

    m.

  5. 2011.01.26 at 8:31 pm

    I’ve never heard it read in person – I envy you the privilege and the joy of that fair moment.

    Out of the deepest dark – the abyss – the light shines pure and clear.

    Nothing lost…

    *gentle smile*

    You alone will share that beautiful moment always.

    Love.

  6. 2011.05.15 at 3:36 pm

    The first part of the work that had been consuming an enormous chunk of Sara’s time and energy the last few months of 2010 has been graciously presented by Tilt-a-Whirl in the article, A Numbers Theory of the Sestina and Similar Repeating Forms. Her work, as partially represented in that article, present a unique approach to characterizing the mechanics of sestina construction, aiming thereby to deepen an understanding of the character of the sestina form itself. Along the way, she manages to present an infinite collection of variations of the form.

    As I understand it – and Maggie, this is where you need to jump in – Sara’s work grew out of discussions she and her best friend, Maggie, had shared about the various poetic forms in which they had taken interest. Of the sestina, Sara’s notes show frustration with the suggestion advanced by some sources, to the effect that the “secret” of the sestina’s pattern might lie in some lost numerology, like alchemy’s lost formula for turning lead into gold. She thought the secret to be much more tangible: that the very original source of the pattern came from a braid, or a weave. Given Sara’s surname, an interesting way to see it!

    Whether or not her thoughts along those lines are any closer to the sestina’s origin than any other theories, her weaving certainly has a charm to it, at least to my prejudiced eye! And every time I have read this article of hers, I see new light in it. Maybe that’s just because I of all people had the benefit of being with her while she was working on her ideas and writing the article, so I can still hear her voice chattering away all excited about some new gust of wind in the storm it became to her.

    She had already finished the rough draft of a follow-up article. Initially, I think she wanted it to be one complete piece. But the entire thing began growing so lengthy, she feared there would be no interest in it. And although she repeatedly withdrew from suggestions of getting any personal attention for herself, she did want the ideas to be known and used.

    The threshold to part of the horizon Sara was seeing can be found in notes left by Maggie in a post and comments made in a blog the two of them shared, at 15 — An Extension of the Sestina.

    Of course, none of this was a mere intellectual exercise to Sara. She vigorously worked on writing poems to match her prose. An illustration of What her essay would call a “2-tina” can be found in her blog – as basic as it gets – and her notebooks include many more, some organized by various criteria she was working on toward developing a comprehensive study of how the repetitions are handled, thoughts that she intended to extend to sestinas and all other variations. She also wrote numerous poems for every other order of magnitude through 14 – including every number for which the usual rules would say that the sestina process doesn’t “work” – and had notes on poems she intended for each of the magnitudes through the early 20s. Samples that she got around to posting include some 9s (one of her personal favorite orders of magnitude – she loved the 3s winding through a 9-tina): there are 4 categorized in her main blog as “noventina,” including monstrosity’s form. The type of rough drafts her notebooks are stuffed with for many of her unfinished poems can be seen in the initial work for an 11-tina at hit and run, and one of her completed 11-tinas can be found at in formal response.

    I miss her terribly. But I still believe the day will come when she will be back at it, picking up right where she left off, weaving her madness with her beauty like a sestina. Until then, thanks to Tilt-a-Whirl for showing off her work.

  7. 2011.08.13 at 2:25 am

    Missing your brilliance and your poetry, Sara.

  8. 2011.12.27 at 5:32 am

    I love you Sara.

    I hope you are healing well.

    *hug*

    Merry Christmas sweetheart.

    L,L.


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