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The Captured Goddess
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The Captured Goddess
— by Amy Lowell (1914)
Over the housetops,
Above the rotating chimney-pots,
I have seen a shiver of amethyst,
And blue and cinnamon have flickered
A moment,
At the far end of a dusty street.
Through sheeted rain
Has come a lustre of crimson,
And I have watched moonbeams
Hushed by a film of palest green.
It was her wings,
Goddess!
Who stepped over the clouds,
And laid her rainbow feathers
Aslant on the currents of the air.
I followed her for long,
With gazing eyes and stumbling feet.
I cared not where she led me,
My eyes were full of colors:
Saffrons, rubies, the yellows of beryls,
And the indigo-blue of quartz;HydrangeaForeverPink2.jpg
Flights of rose, layers of chrysoprase,
Points of orange, spirals of vermilion,
The spotted gold of tiger-lily petals,
The loud pink of bursting hydrangeas.
I followed.
And watched for the flashing of her wings.
In the city I found her,
The narrow-streeted city.
In the market-place I came upon her,
Bound and trembling.
Her fluted wings were fastened to her sides with cords,
She was naked and cold,
For that day the wind blew
Without sunshine.
Men chaffered for her,
They bargained in silver and gold,
In copper, in wheat,
And called their bids across the market-place.
The Goddess wept.
Hiding my face I fled,
And the grey wind hissed behind me,
Along the narrow streets.
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(As signal fires light the hills, heralding the Greek victory over the Trojans, Klytemnestra awaits her husband’s return)
Skyfire sear across forest, breathe and simmer over lake and swirl of stream:
Bring me Troy!
I carry spices and blossoms through our streets
Offering water and wine
Blessings of aconite and windflower clutched close in chants
and shouts strewn bell-high
Sacred fire releases perfume of cinnamon, laurel, sage and clove
Tended by women’s hands
And for you, my love
I plan
I…
In your absence, my bath: herb steeped with flower oil
Dreamlight on travertine knows only the pleasure of women - their soft milk a tang of lavender and summer over hips
belly inside ache chamber threshold
Invitation
I am unknown to any other man
— Misha Penton, libretto
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(Agamemnon returns a hero and Klytemnestra lays the sacred tapestries of the House of Atreus at his feet— inviting him to meet his fate)
I weave into the sting and pulse of Night
And my loom
Strand to strand, ties and knots, lash and strap, warp and weft, dyes and breaths
Patterns, figures revealed
Open!
My oracle: the distaff yielding to its sister axis spinning
What once was perfect, still, placid, pure
I make balanced complete essential primitive whole:
Mine
Myself the design: in each thread, twist and braid
Every fiber river soaked, blood inspired: washed in the surge the waning moon draws from me, a supplication collected
in tender swells along my thighs
How flawless and bare I am, wrapped in my creation
And my love? He will softly step upon these: my finest silks, a flood over our threshold.
He returns
I await
—Misha Penton, libretto
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Misha Penton Houston, Texas
Misha Penton is a singer, composer, and filmmaker. Her music is a blend of futuristic art song, sound poetry, and chamber electronica—you will hear the rise and fall of her many layered voices, and the swirling guitars and electronic sound worlds created her Misha and her collaborators. ... more
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