This is a different kind of post. I began this poem in 1999 after reading Borges' work, specifically his piece entitled "On Blindness." I was taken by the fact that, in his blindness, he saw the color yellow. Poetry flies out of my head at certain times, and I revise and revise and then call it finished. But this one was different. I muddled through it, twisting it, mashing it, spinning it north and south, and then finally putting it to sleep. But it was not a permanent sleep. It woke up every once in awhile. I told my students I'd been working on a poem for ten years or so. (It didn't help. They still disliked revision.) But I had a dream last night that it was time to set it free. And so here it is:
The Veneration of Jorge Luis Borges
In praise of darkness
And through sabled eyes
I see the eloquent library of heaven
I come to reclaim the language
Of the aural world
From nightmares
And mendacious cries of hell
As on the ancient slate of heroes
Humiliation
Embarrassment
Discord
Life is scrawled
Material of erudite art
To be drafted
Into instruments of fate
I am not intimidated
The faithful yellow lyrics
Of poetry and blindness
Are my confidants
I am not intimidated
For I am friend
To poetry
And
Night
The Veneration of Jorge Luis Borges
In praise of darkness
And through sabled eyes
I see the eloquent library of heaven
I come to reclaim the language
Of the aural world
From nightmares
And mendacious cries of hell
As on the ancient slate of heroes
Humiliation
Embarrassment
Discord
Life is scrawled
Material of erudite art
To be drafted
Into instruments of fate
I am not intimidated
The faithful yellow lyrics
Of poetry and blindness
Are my confidants
I am not intimidated
For I am friend
To poetry
And
Night