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Salvific glance
All the presuppositions,
all the idolatry,
brought low by a salvific glance.
Chance encounter, unrequited,
unresolved-ever,
rain drop to the seed.
Incomplete,
unfulfilled,
ever-unfolding,
being.
***
I get it, the danger of idolatry. In order to eliminate the possibility of self-idolisation there must be no presuppositions. Look what happened to Giovanni Gentile; all the logocentrism.
What there must be is an encounter.
Is it an awakening to something that was there all along? No - that would be slipping into idol worship.
Encounter, unrequited, ever-unresolved, brings to life the process of on-going creation. There must be nothing complete or fulfilled in being. Fulfilment is non-being, Chaos.
The Gnostics misread John’s Gospel, imagining the Logos always being there from a beginning. They made of it an idol outside them, never realising that they had access to the ever-present Logos inside them; there in the sense that the present is eternal where love is present.
God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.
(1 John 4:16)
There must be encounter and love; and the ever-present encounter is love-unrequited. Not to have loved is to have existed, not lived.
Picture: SARAISHERMAN (1922-2013), AMERICAN I Am The Rose of Sharon and the Lily of The Valley, Plate I from the series The Song of Solomon, 1966
MeyerP. and Vivian O. Potamkin Collection at Dickinson College.
© John Dunn.
Letter to Beatrice
“In that book which is my memory,
On the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you,
Appear the words, ‘Here begins a new life’.”
(Dante Alighieri, Vita Nuova)
From your first knowing glance, the shell began to crack and Eros stood erect.
Now I know that all creation mythologies are personal mythologies.
Just as the stories of the gods twisted and turned, I became Psyche to your Eros.
Initiatory lust gone, you consigned me unblinded to Hades.
There I met other lost souls.
The myth has it that Eros returned to rescue Psyche, which in my mythology you did.
Wearing the blue of Mary, you held out your hand and offered salvation, and yet I turned to walk away.
Was not the hell of Francesca and Paolo an eternity of blissful togetherness?
You, Beatrice, ultimately frowned upon me and became a goddess.
Unrequited love is ever-living. I now know the eternal consequences of a chance encounter.
I want to see you again, but need I be like Orpheus? Will you vanish forever if I do look back?
Beatrice, salvific conflation of Eve and Christ, held out the hope of Paradise to Dante.
Will your saving hand reach out to me in Purgatory?
Held to the wheel of passion, you faced Eros well before you ever set eyes on me.
You returned to him once. Did you ever look back again? What happened to you? What on Earth happened to you? Tell me, please tell me.
© John Dunn.
Ananke, Ananke
 Terror Antiquus by L.Bakst (1908)
Ananke, Ananke,
Who are you?
I am peace,
Serenity,
Acceptance,
Togetherness,
Oneness.
Ananke, Ananke,
Who are you?
I am Eve,
Earth Mother,
The stillness of Isis
Under the veil.
Ananke, Ananke,
Who are you?
I am the dark waters,
The deep untroubled waters.
Ananke, Ananke,
Who are you?
I am the glint in the eye
Of the first knowing glance,
The first captivating glance.
Ananke, Ananke,
Who are you?
Destruction fatale, I am she.
Ananke, Ananke,
…You are entropic death.
© John Dunn.
Parietal art
Your soul will never be known entirely;
But for Eros, you would never be known at all.
All I can hope is to enter
And paint my dreams on your wall.
© John Dunn.
Time
No matter how infinitesimal,
The great cosmic wheel of time
Wobbled a little
When our eyes met.
And now… a gentle breeze ripples the veil of Sais
Each time I look back with regret.
© John Dunn.
Eros Debased
 "I am all that has been and is and shall be; and no mortal has ever lifted my garment."
Your soul remained as still as Isis
Whilst my passion was brought to crisis.
Pity me goddess, forgive.
For as long as there’s a veil to lift,
Debased adoration is my only gift
And Eros will live.
© John Dunn.
 …In Love
An Artemis of breasts aplenty,
Mother Earth, nourish us all.
The serpent in you tempts me
To pull on your bull-dugs and drain to empty,
Then bite the fruit that Eve gave to me,
That I might fall…
© John Dunn.
Chaos brought to order
 Nightmare, Helen Frankenthaler, 1989
Imagine not having met you;
The nightmare would have raged on,
Crying into the night,
Blind fear as the idols advanced towards me.
Keep them away from me, those children of Ananke.
As it was I came to consciousness,
I awoke to your warm embrace.
New life,
Chaos brought to order
,
Demons gone, or held at bay for now.
© John Dunn.
Apparition
Jasper Johns “Untitled” (2017)
Jasper Johns/VAGA at Artists Rights Society (ARS), NY; via Matthew Marks Gallery
I looked over the still dark waters and saw you there,
Eternal, wild, and infinite.
Angel of the noosphere
And did you really appear?
Was Chaos so ordered at that moment
That you held entropy at bay?
© John Dunn.
To the others
 St Catherine, Vittore Crivelli, 1481 (V&A London)
“That’s enough,
The wheel is broken,
Let her down,
It’s time to end this,
She’s defeated us all.”
We all let her down.
© John Dunn.
Post-euphoria
There was a moment when I felt no guilt or compassion.
I was ruthless, cruel and victorious.
Tell me Eve, was I released from the grip of Ananke?
Look at me Eve, at least acknowledge me.
And is guilt Ananke’s revenge?
The snake of memory is entwined about me.
There was a sense of the serpent in her averted stride,
and a troubled preoccupation crossed her face.
© John Dunn.
Cave flower
The inscrutability of woman in all this.
Man enters the cave and holds up Mithraic light,
Woman would keep the darkness;
And yet Eve held out the apple
As though the cave were an open flower,
Irresistible - like nectar to a bee.
There was encounter, there was love,
But when Orpheus looked behind he lost her,
Leaving her in darkness.
© John Dunn.
Ananke violated
And Ananke lay at rest, looking to the infinite as an equilibrium, with her self-regulating humours and her own necessities.
And the One was nought, and she was non-being.
And the Spirit of Love moved upon the face of the waters.
And storm clouds rose across the face of Ananke.
And Love bore down upon her.
And Love was the Word.
And Love was living thought.
And Love was Creativity.
And Love was the Cosmic Jesus.
And God is Love.
And hands closed upon the neck of Ananke, which was also the neck of Ouroborus.
And the interminable cycle was choked back.
And storms rushed across the face of the deep.
And Love violated Ananke.
And the rain beat down upon the foaming deep.
And Ananke ‘be’came; nought became one.
And the waters were stilled.
And the cry of new-born Eros echoed across the Cosmos.
Pictured: Ananke by Gilbert Bayes, 1918
© John Dunn.
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