Gristle and Cellulite, Day 57 of the 100 Days of Poetry with @d-pend

in poetry •  6 years ago  (edited)

Gristle and Cellulite

Gretchen_ist_gerettet (1).jpg

gristle and cellulite
sculpted and girdled
sucked away, shifted
to the more alluring
          nether regions

the vacuous
becomes
the injectable

thin here
plump there
take in the form
curves and sharp angles

but don’t look too close

scars tanning to leather
best before dates expired
time to schedule another visit
    with Dr. Faustus
and his Mephistophilic
medicine cabinet

take living tissue
make it dead
necromance
have it dance again

airbrush and filter
everything looks better
under distorted
and rose-coloured lenses

get out the scissors
acids and dissolutions
vacuum and suction
see yourself
as you wish to be
make it reality

1200px-LippenStudium1 (1).jpg

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Image 1
Image 2, böhringer friedrich

Both images have been altered. Gristle and Cellullite is copyright Pryde Foltz.

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take living tissue
make it dead
necromance
have it dance again

Ouch, Pryde, this is savage fun! It has in-built music, too, and a relentless beat that kept up until the last wallop: creating our own reality, after much self-violence & deception.

Because of its subject matter, I think of one of my favorite lines. Writing of his blindness, Borges quotes Milton, saying. "I have lost merely the inconsequential skin of things."

Ah, skin, makes you wonder, sometimes, who's wearing who... out.

No doubt ... Thank you, Yahia, so glad you liked this because it flowed out of our conversation yesterday and your grandmasters bearing spiritual knives and knitting needles. I think I used the word gristle, that and what is happening with Kanye West, and off to the races.

Yes, I thought I recognized that title from our conversation! And, you were right about that translation of Hafez being a poor one... Spoke to an esteemed Sufi translator, yesterday, and he said it hardly even qualifies to be called translation!

Kanye, huh? Kindly, enlighten me, when you have the chance...

I think a good translator has to be a good writer and stay true to the style of the original author as well. It is not an easy task. But like I said the metaphor was sterling. There are some Tao Te Ching versions out there that are way too florid and the energy of work is lost.

Kanye ... bear in mind I only know about this because of twitter. But he has begun the awakening process and as such is telling everyone what they are doing is wrong ... I have been there, I have sympathy for him but then this is nothing new for him. So he is in the news. He says he got addicted to opioids after having a cosmetic procedure that he did for 'us' ... so we would like the way he looks and not make fun of him. Like I said, I have great sympathy for him but we are own conductors in this orchestra of life. To his work ... I just don't see the fuss. Maybe, I am missing something.

Yes, translation is a spiritual act if you ask me, dying to yourself, to serve the work, almost a channeling of spirits. But, such things are not conscious acts, I believe: the work chooses its own translator. Modern American poet Gregory Pardlo, in his extraordinary essay “Choosing a Twin,” says something to this effect: “Translation is a practice of empathy,” he writes, “like choosing a twin, where affinity and kinship is a declarative act and not a passive discovery.”

Because of you, I spent some time looking up Kanye :) He has the zeal of the newly converted and is mouthing off, when he should be quiet, listening, and eavesdropping on shy inner processes. I think of Jim Carrey as someone who has also begun the awakening process and is being overly loud about it. But, we live in an age where, in the absence of a sense of tradition and true teachers, students are mistaken for masters. The Church of Oprah and such...

On another note, enjoyed intro to Tragically Hip. _/|\_

So glad you liked the Hip ... trust me when I say they are the gift that keeps on giving.

Yes, it would be lovely if we were all the quiet wind but then only those who are still can hear it. The noisy zephyrs and gusty winds get on the news:):):)

Haha, that’s one way of seeing it :p Yes, everything/everyone serves their purpose. 🙏🏼

I think it's too late for some of us ( : Not that I would enjoy such pulling and pulling and hoovering and such. I'll take it as I am. Very well written, very fun poem. You have the gift. The only few I've tried were a bit simple. Keep up the good works. And have a nice night.

Thanks so much, DD:) Just so important to be happy inside, no matter how we might choose to style the exterior:)You have a lovely night too:):):)

The scars that tan leather
before the dates expired the
again to visit with Dr. Faustus
and his
mephistophilic first aid kit

These lines are strong. They speak of unlimited dissatisfaction. From the sale of the soul for the purpose of insane complacency. Faust and Mephistopheles are associated with darkness. This is an exceptional and impressive work, dear Pryde.

Satisfaction is a great thing to have and without it, there is a lot of suffering. Thank you for you lovely words, Zeleira:)

Strong words, very pronounced to existing situations. Right to the point

Thank you

Thank you, Margaret:)

Plastic surgery? There should be a limit to that.

My friend said fat is the new cute but I doubt it :D

Old cute is the new cute:):):)

I have no brilliant insight to add to the conversation. I found your words blunt and biting...in a good way, of course. Your work always inspires me.

Thank you, Samantha:)

@prydefoltz,

"Gristle and Cellulite" ... now there's a title! Clickbait at its finest. Draws you in.

Pryde, I have to admit ... you are nothing if not unique and wholly unpredictable. I've spent the past few minutes in a rolling chuckle that just won't quit, trying to imagine how many centuries it would have taken me to come up with this subject, as the subject matter for a poem. For some reason that I can't quite articulate, 400-600 years feels "about right."

"Gristle," as it turns out, is an interesting-sounding word. Something I had not taken notice of until now. My smarty-pants daughter has taken to peppering her discourse with an arcane-word-of-the-day just, I'm convinced, to see if she can drive me nuts. I think I'm going to "gristle" her tomorrow. I think I'll use it as a verb.

With respect to providing meaningful analysis or some quippy insight about the poem, I resorted to looking at the other comments for inspiration. I've still got nothing ... except a growing obsession with the word, "gristle."

Here's something: My lips are feeling a bit "puffy," an infrequent sensation with which I'm all-but-completely unfamiliar ... so, obviously, the poem possessed the power of suggestion. I think my haunches are feeling a bit tender too.

I might also be feeling pretty. Or insecure. Or pretty insecure. I'm just not sure. I'm still chuckling. So ... thanks.

Gristle is a great word. If you read some of the comments than you know ... it was the word that started the whole thing aflow. Good to have you back in the burbs. Sorry about your haunches and don't mind the insecurities:):):)Puffy lips are in:)