Lie down. On something hard.
At first, the comforts' spinal bones may hurt
but slowly slowly they will straighten
the inactivity's back.
Retract now your bad habits
in a rigid line.
Bring your hands gently to your chest
like temporary wings of temporary angels.
Do not change position.
The supine oars deftly.
Do not be afraid. Fear fattens
it contains hunger.
Do not chew sensations. They have many calories.
They cause the deprivations' fat.
Your eyes closed please, completely
no misinterpretable crevices
no sight lollipops.
They radiate ultraviolet nostalgia.
Exhale deeply, stay still
do not breathe do not breathe
it runs the risk to show
only half of the boatman in the x-ray.
Let go now on the sleep's slide.
I will play you a tape, relax,
of your mother's lullaby
there there my baby
willing or not will say.
Weigh yourselves. Stand still please
your body contains an inlaid scale.
---------------------------------------------
Personal notes:
This poem was published as part of the collection 'Greenhouse grass' (2005).
Its title is long and unusual for a Dimoula poem, but it is successful in setting the tone and the overall narrative of the poem.
There are perhaps several ways to interpret this poem. I understand it best by accepting the premise that the poet is addressing herself, and that the exercise regime central to the poem's narrative relates to eliminating the 'weight' of mortality as carried by someone who is approaching old age.
Here are some observations that support this interpretation.
In the first stanza, the poet suggests that the person performing the exercises has been neglecting her physical (and perhaps mental) health, living a life of comforts and indolence. These attitudes to life become more tempting as one gets older, and Dimoula is approaching old age.
In the second stanza, the poet describes a set of hands as 'temporary wings of temporary angels'. This is a direct reference to mortality. She also insists that one remains in the supine position, which is a common burial position. [In the fourth stanza, she insists also that the eyes remain completely shut, and then, later on, asks her subject to let go and 'sleep', which also alludes to dying]
In the third and fourth stanzas, the poet reveals the sources of one's 'extra kilos'. These include 'fear', 'nostalgia', and 'deprivation', which tend to exacerbate as one gets older. At old age, one fears dying, one longs for the past, the sensations of a younger age, and everything that one has been deprived of in life.
The fifth stanza provides the stronger clue for this interpretation. Dimoula switches narratives and instead of addressing a person performing fitness exercises, she addresses someone lying on a medical bed about to take an x-ray. It is typical of Dimoula to switch into such contrasting narratives - from a regime (and a lying position) that is mostly associated with fitness and health to a regime that is associated with illness and death.
The seventh stanza reiterates themes of nostalgia and makes a direct connection between the beginning and the end of one's life. A small baby falls asleep to her mother's lullaby, while an old person is about to fall asleep forever.
The poem's last stanza is Dimoula's answer to the 'weight' of her mortality. She acknowledges that it is part of herself, something that no exercise may be able to eliminate, but also something that depends on her own perception and coping mechanisms.
At first, the comforts' spinal bones may hurt
but slowly slowly they will straighten
the inactivity's back.
Retract now your bad habits
in a rigid line.
Bring your hands gently to your chest
like temporary wings of temporary angels.
Do not change position.
The supine oars deftly.
Do not be afraid. Fear fattens
it contains hunger.
Do not chew sensations. They have many calories.
They cause the deprivations' fat.
Your eyes closed please, completely
no misinterpretable crevices
no sight lollipops.
They radiate ultraviolet nostalgia.
Exhale deeply, stay still
do not breathe do not breathe
it runs the risk to show
only half of the boatman in the x-ray.
Let go now on the sleep's slide.
I will play you a tape, relax,
of your mother's lullaby
there there my baby
willing or not will say.
Weigh yourselves. Stand still please
your body contains an inlaid scale.
---------------------------------------------
Personal notes:
This poem was published as part of the collection 'Greenhouse grass' (2005).
Its title is long and unusual for a Dimoula poem, but it is successful in setting the tone and the overall narrative of the poem.
There are perhaps several ways to interpret this poem. I understand it best by accepting the premise that the poet is addressing herself, and that the exercise regime central to the poem's narrative relates to eliminating the 'weight' of mortality as carried by someone who is approaching old age.
Here are some observations that support this interpretation.
In the first stanza, the poet suggests that the person performing the exercises has been neglecting her physical (and perhaps mental) health, living a life of comforts and indolence. These attitudes to life become more tempting as one gets older, and Dimoula is approaching old age.
In the second stanza, the poet describes a set of hands as 'temporary wings of temporary angels'. This is a direct reference to mortality. She also insists that one remains in the supine position, which is a common burial position. [In the fourth stanza, she insists also that the eyes remain completely shut, and then, later on, asks her subject to let go and 'sleep', which also alludes to dying]
In the third and fourth stanzas, the poet reveals the sources of one's 'extra kilos'. These include 'fear', 'nostalgia', and 'deprivation', which tend to exacerbate as one gets older. At old age, one fears dying, one longs for the past, the sensations of a younger age, and everything that one has been deprived of in life.
The fifth stanza provides the stronger clue for this interpretation. Dimoula switches narratives and instead of addressing a person performing fitness exercises, she addresses someone lying on a medical bed about to take an x-ray. It is typical of Dimoula to switch into such contrasting narratives - from a regime (and a lying position) that is mostly associated with fitness and health to a regime that is associated with illness and death.
The seventh stanza reiterates themes of nostalgia and makes a direct connection between the beginning and the end of one's life. A small baby falls asleep to her mother's lullaby, while an old person is about to fall asleep forever.
The poem's last stanza is Dimoula's answer to the 'weight' of her mortality. She acknowledges that it is part of herself, something that no exercise may be able to eliminate, but also something that depends on her own perception and coping mechanisms.