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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=535544" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bare To Such Luscence - A Catfish Mass</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">.<br>for John Berryman, his Bones, Confessed</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Antiphons: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The original fault<br>Will not be undone by fire.<br>The original fault was whether wickedness<br>Was soluble in art. History says it is, <br>Jacques Maritain says it is, <br>Barely.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">- John Berryman, from 'Sonnet ix'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Introit then Lauds: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Punctuated surprise, <br>hosanna of rivers <br>sounding with <br>or without gills... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I could not make it there, <br>that 'pointed conjunction', <br>nor up to air. I, Catfish, <br>soft sift bottom mud, give up <br>on purity, on flitting civilizations <br>lifted or pressed between <br>surface and aspirant spaces. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Done with all that, some <br>have had no choice. <br>Catfish choices differ <br>from those of the 'Windhover' Christ, <br>'dappled, dawn drawn' though they be <br>(Hopkins implicate flights of resurrection) .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Stead, Berryman, without art or Maritain, <br>out leapt his sonnets from sonic <br>height-bridge to river-fells and missed, <br>the fool, one last scansion - dirty trick -<br>'hisself, too, hit, Bones sans pomes, <br>hard mud, perhaps one foot or his <br>beard delicately dipped <br>in paginated river'.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Catfish Homily: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Witless old mud spawn, widest mouth, <br>no lips to speak of, pulled greedily from <br>black water to shore, there's a bark in <br>air that old Catfish makes in punctuated <br>protest at too much light or is it, rather, <br>ecstasy, final vision gasped dimly seen <br>in depths, hinted upon surfaces, <br>Platonic shadow plays portending? <br>Is it the latter, sparks of praise to what <br>is finally seen at the end, a life mucked <br>and mired in obfuscated fundaments? </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Eucharist 1965: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fate, then, heavy in a boy's hand<br>hoists dead weight to a nail on a tree.<br>His knife scores firm flesh yielding<br>beneath freshly limp gills - there is an<br>instrument made just for this, pincher-pliers<br>for catfish skin - he grips and tears, <br>uses his weight down-stripping smoothly<br>bare to such luscence little ribs of roseate<br>flesh.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Only the overly large head, the ugly face<br>whiskered within gilded monstrance, <br>remain pure to form, thin-lipped and<br>mocking, restrained by depth pressures, <br>sustained on surface trash, dead things<br>that sink down it's treasures.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tenderly sing, then, to a nail, <br>to a boy's blood catechism -<br>hands, minds, are meant<br>to be stained, mercy's quality<br>unstrained neither by will nor gill.<br>Scavenging flocks gladly fill their<br>gullets inhaling entrails tossed<br>in supplicant bins.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In unison Gregorian they scream: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is a nail for me<br>plain, a chorus of barks** -</div><div style="margin:10px 0">splintered lips<br>punctuated surprise, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">glossolalia of rivers<br>now given weight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One can only will<br>praise to 'The End', </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and spill, post-pliers, <br>one's silken guts in offering.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>**A catfish when brought to shore barks, a rasping, barking discharge of air. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>**************************</div><div style="margin:10px 0">[The poet's brief commentary about 'Bare To Such Luscence - A Catfish Mass': </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thought one might be informed of my inner dispositions, theologically and 'Other-wise', by this piece in progress...it refers to John Berryman, one of my poetic masters who, brilliant, alcoholic, tried Grace and tried out Grace - Grace never tires though we do and sometimes expire seeking for it - took a leap off a boozy bridge, a true 'whiskey priest' to Poesy and That which he praised and bruised to purple if not completed purpose...the Catfish is referent to my southern roots and the Fundamentalist 'perch' (stance and fish!) which can n'ere be rooted out of me no matter the plier-pinchers...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Also, poem refers to Gerard Manley Hopkins, his poem, 'The Windhover' which is one of his most praised...a phrase, 'dappled dawn drawn Falcon', of course inflates me, Falcon, to the elegant and predator Christ he sings hymns to, 'Windhover -Wingedhunger' for souls if not for bodies which Lord Death takes good care of.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">...I've learned to be brutal in editing my poems but, alas, not my sins and both deserve further 'edits' now and to come...thus the universe will spill my guts in the end from slimy rooftop perches of enthroned roof dwellers. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In spite of guilt I still praise...]</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Warren+Falcon">Warren Falcon</a><div class=q>
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for John Berryman, his Bones, Confessed


Antiphons: 

The original fault
Will not be undone by fire.
The original fault was whether wickedness
Was soluble in art. History says it is, 
Jacques Maritain says it is, 
Barely.

- John Berryman, from..."></div>
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