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Ceclia's Daughters Ambiguity. Reach for it, because only though it can you be free, Alive. It tases of fire, things long burnt, cooled. A mistly burned ruin, hinting at glories past, and a future hosting paradise. Be above this-- the perfect muse, graceful in the mist. They will call you Cecilia's daughter. --Jessica Moore, March 1999-- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is likely the second, maybe third in a set I want to call "Reclaiming Ceclia" about women in music. I've been reading a lot of feminist musical critisism lately, and often articles and such refer to St. Cecilia, the patron saint of music, who likely never sung a note. She was martyred (naturally) and the legend goes that she began to sing when they began to burn her, and it brought her peace. There is an incredible W.H. Auden poem devoted to her that Benjamin Britten turned into a great peice. (Part of this background would be in the first poem of the set, which I have roughed in, but I don't like yet.) Basically, the set as a whole would have three major parts: #1) Establishing the Cecilia myth #2) The women of the past and their music #3) Identity as a woman in music, Cecilia Reclaimed, if you will. So this poem is the middle, or part of the middle of this set. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. I submit it to the group. I've babbled enough.
8 responses total.
hmmmm...seems like a slick idea, but there's not really enough here to get a very good feel for it
Yeah, the idea sounds great, but...if I'd read this poem, I wouldn't have said "hmm, this must be about women of the past and their music" :) But I'd love to see more! Write the other 2! That is an order....
Yes sir! <jessi wonders if there is an offical poetry conf salute>
jessi, I fucking LOVED this piece.
('scuse my french. (; )
No, we don't have a salute, that I know of. We don't even have a secret handshake. SOmething is wrong with this picture... :)
We should have a secret ear-wiggle... Or maybe "the nose-flare of recognition"... or am I drifting again.
chortle* the nose flare of recognition! hee hee!
<dan flares his nose in an ominous, significant, subversive sort of way>
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