The devil is filled with what other creatures aren't,

anger at Adam and Eve in their innocence,
jealousy of Adam and Eve in the garden,

deceit. He changes into a serpent, hollow, almost
eternal, disguising what his form makes plain.

Adam and Eve turn from innocence
toward the tree, their first work.

* * *

Eve is taken from Adam, so Adam assumes her,
embraces her words.

The devil saw Adam and Eve k-i-s-s-i-n-g.
Conquering tenderness conquers strength.

A cloud threw
the form of man out of the form of man.

The ancient seducer dispelled them
into destruction.

* * *

We rebel in the place of sweet things.
Eve opposes Adam, from whose rib she was cloned.
Even clones have separate agency.

In a remedial attempt,
a son was made within a virgin mother.

* * *

We shine free.
Shines in us freedom, butterflies,
brightness we enjoy. More lifts, shining.

Humility is Queen of the virtues.

Pride lifts the devil. Death casts him down.
Divine power opposes him not;
humility opposes the devil.
The humble live eternally.

Satan opens the barricade, shouting, Who will help me.
Devils reply with a roar.

* * *

When a woman makes love with a man,
delightful heat communicates that delight (salt)
and summons semen.

The seed falls into its place. Heat descends from her,
draws the seed to itself, holds it.

Her sexual organs contract
the way a strong man encloses something in his fist.

* * *

Around a king stood ivory columns bearing the king's banners
(the banner is love, over me, love, my banner, love is a banner).

The king raised a small feather from the ground, commanding it fly.
Air bore the feather, not the command.
Thus am I, a feather on breath.

* * *

Sky brightening. Virtues overcoming the devil's snares sing
to various types of music praises of the city of celestial joy.

Dawn's sound is a multitude.

* * *

Leaping fountain of words
into jewels, sun's glory:

the world from words
Eve threw into confusion
formed the word – person – from the sun.

You're bright material
through which words breathe.

This daughter is a water drop in the eye
– sun, bright flower, with mind made light.

* * *

Light behold with burning desires eyes.
O joy – your garment – has a form
untouched by work.

             order                           shine
O dharma form shape in your make face figure,
         configuration                     form
poor materials I piece into this edifice.
Listen: little places of the ancient heart in the fountain.
See stone breathe.

 

Copyright © Catherine Daly, 2003

Catherine Daly's poem in this issue is included in the her new volume DaDaDa (Salt Publishing, Cambridge). The volume Locket will be published by Tupelo Press in 2004. Her poems and critical work have been widely published in the USA. Catherine Daly is based in Los Angeles.