I'd like to meet:
MyGen Profile GeneratorCaught up by the slender stem, hanging heavy
In wet lush shining clusters of purple,
I hold them against my hair and face
And moisten my lips with their pale blood.
...I crush the grapes of my own vineyard
For an incomparable intoxication.
...There are intricate secrets for me to decipher
From the twined and twisted grapevines.
(Tess Avelland, from "Maenad,") At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance. - T.S. Eliot And I know how to lead off the sprightly
dance of the lord Dionysos, the dithyramb.
I do it thunderstruck with wine. - Archilochus I call upon loud-roaring and reveling Dionysos,
primeval, two-natured, thrice-born, Bacchic lord,
savage, ineffable, secretive, two-horned and two-shaped.
Ivy-covered, bull-faced, warlike, howling, pure,
you take raw flesh, you have triennial feasts, wrapt in foliage, decked
with grape clusters.
Resourceful Eubouleus, immortal god sired by Zeus
when he mated with Persephone in unspeakable union.
Hearken to my voice, O blessed one, and with your fair-girdled nurses
breathe on me in a spirit of perfect kindness.