Deck the Halls 2: Mobius
 

http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/pictur...=3&pictureid=9

Mobius


Forget, a moment, everything you know:
that music travels forward, that you're one--
a single bounded entity--that time
moves on in sequence. Gaze into her eyes
and let her limbs encircle you. Now lace
your fingers and your flesh, becoming her;

watch as your shadows merge. If you prefer
you may imagine smoke swirling around
itself in this still room where candlelight
plays on the woven pearl strands you've caught
between your merging forms, now undefined
by light or air converging from that flame,

and disremember even your own name.
Now, lost within her energy, sublime
articulated harmonies surround
these intricate entanglements, this knot
of vortices that spin in reckless guise
of offering: the musicality

of cycles turning on themselves. Agree
to be her sacrifice, to let her find
in you the eyes to give her, changing, sight
as witness to her transformations, done
with your free acquiescence, let her trace
the coursing of your veins as her tableau:

forget, a moment, everything you know.

http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/pictur...=3&pictureid=9

http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/pictur...=3&pictureid=9

Great title here, Player 2! It makes for a curious introduction to this undoubtedly mystic, religious rather than scientific piece, and serves to mitigate some of the romanticism.

I love the use of the rhyme linking your stanzas -- her/prefer, flame/name, and of course, the final "nailing," (no vulgar pun intended) of "tableau/know."

After reading an online dissertation on fluid-dynamic foils, section B of S3 really moved me, ("knot of vortices...") The lyricism here is so thick, romantic and heady, I found myself feeling not in swirling smoke, but rather, intense citrus and floral scent. It's heroic in tone, certainly in its attitude of self-abnegation and even sacrifice to the partner.

In line 12 -- "converging" is the coming together of two things -- might "and" work better in place of "or" there? "Lost" within her energy hovers on cliche, and if this were mine, I would try for something a bit more original.

I emerge from this poem envying the speaker's cosmic, mind-eradicating experience, as well as his scientific erudition.

The form is accomplished, the echo in the last line sure.

http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/pictur...=3&pictureid=9

Like a verbal Bolero, this poem builds slowly and sinuously, daring to extend itself with each newly extrapolated clause until the reader is watching a musical house of cards that should--by all rights--collapse from its own bloated, slightly-cliched fantasy; but it doesn't collapse. Somehow it works. Accomplished.

I love this well-woven poem's intricacy, which stems from its polysyllabic diction, aggressive enjambments, and rhymes linking the stanzas. A true intertwining to match the spiritual and physical interconnectedness of the lovers in this almost-psychedelic piece. I missed this one when it first appeared on the Sphere. I'm glad I had the opportunity to read it for the first time today.

An unusual title for a romantic poem, and with or without the umlaut (ö) I like it very much. As I understand the möbius strip, you always return to the same place you started from when "traveling" along it or "tracing" its course, so it's suitable that the poem ends at the same place it begins: with the words, forget, a moment, everything you know.

The poem opens strongly and I like the entire first stanza. When I passed the second stanza, however, and was well into the poem, it struck me that the meter is expressionless; the poet doesn't use the meter to highlight or emphasize the content, to slow or speed up the pace, etc. in any noticeable way. The meter is like a monotone. In spite of that, I think the poem is well crafted; the run-on feel of the lines and the enjambments do manage to build an intensity that suits the content.

Looks like all of these posted so far are poems that have etched themselves into my memory. If they are so memorable, they must be good choices. This was a fave when it was up.

The rich language and repetitive whorling movements leave me feeling a little breathless, disoriented, and fully saturated--like being in a waterfall--even though there's not a drop of water in the poem! Weird, but then again maybe I'm supposed to feel that way?

I am intrigued by how the cold delivery system here--very much in keeping with a description of the mobius strip or an Escher drawing--conveys the warmth of interaction even as the poet instructs us and asks us to analyze. I should freaking hate this, but I don't because it works really well. It works better than any Escher drawing, which might intrigue, but leaves us ice cold, out of the bounds of nature.

The poet keeps this in bounds. The title is great.

I like how the inversion of the central line "and disremember even your own name." jostles me.

I like how the imperative sentences instruct the reader, yet also serve to balance the romanticism. The poem is trancelike in its steady beat. The interlocking rhyme scheme is really fascinating. The last line is a wonderful echoing close, reinforcing the title. An enjoyable experience. And the tenderness in every line is evident.