Immaculate

poetry by lizzy
26 February 2004
9 comments

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"I had rather see coming toward me a whole regiment with drawn swords than one lone Calvinist convinced he is doing the will of God." ~Anonymous

 
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every sunrise the stained-glass Mary glows

 
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projecting herself through the recorded sermon

 
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luminous over vacant pews and polished floors

 
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and the Universe freezes the place

 
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through splits and creeds and scandal

 

j_moody: i like this: divinity immune to human wrongheadedness

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She shines

 
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staid in the frigid stone

 
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and hasn't burned through yet.

 

j_moody: a very well-placed image-- not sure how, but might try to enhance its verbal impact? I would like to feel this sense of the virgin burning through the stone like a kick in my gut, like she is very much alive. however, tempering the verse to have that kind of an impact can be a touchy affair. juxtaposition might work.

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the collection plates are filled

 
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with dust and bones and gold

 
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rust and blood and velvet give color to the light

 
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and no one is around, no one sees

 
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For those who lose themselves in dogma

 

j_moody: all the above imagery is "dead" (in contrast, or to enhance, the image of the virgin burning through the stone-- dead in appearance but very much alive) and this leads us to an empty room (? no one there) and "those who lose themselves in dogma." following the thread of emotion leads me to feel the dogma is also dead, so maybe that might be pointed up? also, since there obviously are people who adhere to this dogma and worship in this space perhaps the contrast between the people (alive on the outside, yet dead on the inside due to allegiance to a dead dogma) and the virgin (dead on the outside, yet burning through the stone with the life-force of her particular truth) might be presented more overtly? I would stick with imagery like you have in the rest of the poem, but imagery that conveys this contrast between lifeless believers who worship in the presence of a deity who is very much alive. Of course I could be barking up the entirely wrong tree :)

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ever cry to the omnipresent Universe

 

lizzy: I'm doing something with this line and the one before, but I'm not sure what. Ideas?

j_moody: the sense I get is that their dogma has blinded and deadened them (splits, scandals, etc.) and yet they hunger for a divinity that is on the one hand right in front of them (the Virgin burning through the stone) as they cry out in desperation, and on the other hand is everywhere around them (omnipresent) as the divinity of the Universe. So they are kneeling down in the river water in front of a spiritual waterfall and begging for, of all things, water. right?

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of women

 

j_moody: linking of feminine (Virgin) with the divinity of the Universe-- good move, but my personal sense is that a little more separation of the ideas might be more effective. I guess I have a mental burp when I try to parse the "omnipresent Universe of women." There is the Omnipresent, the Divine, the Universe and this divinity is channeled particularly through women and the Virgin is the conduit of that motherly divinity-- a grace and generosity and sacrificial love that is everpresent in our lives, whether we recognize that or not. So the same idea, but with the steps left in (between "omnipresent Universe" and "women") maybe?

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mothers like You, harmless

 
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with dirty hands and tattered shoes

 
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and sleepless dreams,

 

lizzy: See my above comment. I want to make a change because "sleepless dreams" is cliche, but I don't know how to better put it right now.

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of scars long healed

 

j_moody: sleepless dreams of scars long healed? maybe separate these ideas. imagery is always useful to break up the conceptual chunks and gesture toward ideas that are difficult to pin down with words.

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still red with newness,

 
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and winged statues, ever cold,

 
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guarding the air of the place

 
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hushing the unwary

 
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they cry until the deaf remain

 
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Mary, how do you shine on this

 
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and stay immaculate?

 
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why does the sun rise through you

 
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when there is no light inside?

 
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why allow the avowedly blind sight?

 
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why shine without reflection,

 
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inspire where there is no thought,

 
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advise those whose questions have been taken from them?

 
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why give solace to those who deny pleasure?

 
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why herd sheep

 
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when dogs have been trained

 
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for more milennia

 
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more legacies

 
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than you have known?

 
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are you the Lady or the Serpent?

 
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the only answers in the decaying stone

 
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come as echoes and a recorded hymn

 
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the sterile cool silence that falls between the notes

 
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and the shine of the blood that tints the silver collection plates.

 
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no one lives here any longer

 
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save for the saints

 
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who stand vigil over the dust tumbling through the sun

 
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as the doors close.

 
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the seven o'clock service is about to begin.

 
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shine brightly, Mary,

 
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let your color start out deep red

 
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filter out the same inside

 
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as the demons take their seats,

 
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our lives.

 
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they might notice you sometime.

 
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something new could happen—

 
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someone could see—

 
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someday—

 
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there have, after all, been miracles.

 
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j_moody: overall I like it. However, the momentum seems to be lost by the time the last stanzas arrive. a lot of good concepts in there, but perhaps the concepts might be more powerfully expressed obliquely? through imagery? the poem has a lot of potential and I love its general thrust but it might do with a little trimming at the end and tightening up throughout. But what poem starts out perfect?

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