Thursday, October 26, 2006

Damascus, Movement 3

1 observations

Sorry for the delay this morning, folks.

I don't think any of William F. DeVault's readers underestimate the power of his "Damascus" series of poems. For those of you who do not know the titular metaphor or allusion; Saul of Tarsus, a Roman prosecutor (persecutor?) who was assigned to killing Christians in the 1st Century, was confronted by Jesus on the "road to Damascus" and was struck blind for three days before regaining his sight and being reborn as "Paul" (yes, that Paul, the Evangelist).

On the poet's road trip to help a friend move to Los Angeles a few years ago, she decided to become more than a friend, something he had not considered, for she was involved with women at the time. Three days later, they arrived in Los Angeles as lovers, six months later, they married.

Of the cycle of ten poems he wrote, drawing this allusion, none is more popular than the third poem, which is also the featured opening piece on his forthcoming CD "Nemicorn"....

Damascus, Movement 3

aphrodite
does not barter her beauty
for hollow promise.
wisdom girds glib eloquences in a veil of truth,
the sooth that soothes us
like the blood of aloe fresh cut from a garden
where we swore we would never walk again.
jasmine.
a thought slides like electric lovers
across a sea of tranquility
where the dust is kicked skyward
by the blue flames and boots of the explorers.
I awaken from the dream.
sightless.
paralyzed.
the cold catalepsy illustrating the fear of death
I had forgotten.
but there is an incandescence in the darkness.
and, for once, I sink back to sleep,
aware of God.
and cognizant of the pattern in the tapestry
as I await Rome.
content that Damascus was no illusion
this time.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

This poem is one I refer to as part of his "dense pack" works, as it contains a lot of information, if you know the keys to the subtexts he is revealing. He was, at the time, suffering from brief cataleptic fits, probably brought on by anxiety attacks. He had given away his fortune to his first wife, been left by the Panther, suffered the loss of Brigit, even rejected by the Mad Gypsy. To someone who derives his energy from the emotions around him, he was drowning. He had begun to believe love to be an illusion. For the right set of lips he would die.

After serving as the very model of the modern Evangelist, Paul demanded a trial in Rome, as was his due as a Roman Citizen, which also meant he would face the death penalty. He was able to present the Gospel to men of great power. Then was executed.

The Jasmine he refers to in this poems was not a prophetic look at a future minor muse, but a reference to the smell of night-blooming jasmine he craved in Venice Beach. The oblique references to the explorations of the moon by NASA in the 1970's is invoking and evoking Apollo, the Greek God for whom those missions were named, but who was actually the God of the Sun and Lyrical Poetry.

I could do a book just on this poem, but I won't.

1 observations:

Ms Peach said...

The poem is stirring and beautiful and heartbreaking.

Who is the Jasmine Mr. Devault has referred to of late? Is she still a profetic minor muse? Is she really out of the picture, or will there be more? I'd like to read and hear more.

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