𝔞 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔓𝔬𝔩𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔨𝔱𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔰.

I wrote something.

I haven't written poetry in English for at least a couple of years, maybe more like four or five. This idea has existed in my mind for a long time, however: what if it wasn't Sappho's poetry, but instead that of her rival, Gorgo, that time had preserved for perpetuity? What would it have looked like?

This is my conception of what shape Gorgo's perspective in the same world that Sappho inhabited would have taken. It's just the first poem, my aim is that there will be a small collection of fragments. I have emulated Anne Carson's way of showing where there are missing words, parts and sentences in Sappho's poems, by using ][ and ... in various places in the text. I did, nevertheless, write the whole poem first, then went and deleted the parts I think would enhance the feeling of the text, while at the same time adding to the mystery of its particular form of corrupted "silence". This is the first draft, not-final result. I kind of like it, and definitely think it's exactly what I had in mind originally, so that pleases me.

I'll be writing this small collection of poems by Gorgo for prompts at the rainbowfic community, specifically the opal jasper prompt, "chapter and verse" and the crocus yellow prompt, "Now, I shall sing these songs / Beautifully / for my companions." It's nice doing challenges again! It always motivates me, writing with a purpose in mind, not just to complete the writing - but to complete the writing in response to something.



It's Monday today. Last week was kind of crazy and I'm so happy this week is proving... calmer. No plans, as far as I recall right now, until Saturday, when a friend of mine is coming over for tea. It's been a while since I saw her, so that should be nice. I look forward to telling her about my Sappho project, she was so enthusiastic and supportive of it last time I worked on it a year ago.

Mother's Day yesterday was terrible. I was so caught up in feelings of guilt and inadequacy that until K. talked me through some of it, I almost couldn't break out of my mind. Then, I called my mom as I had promised and it was the most awkward, stilted conversation ever. I didn't want to have it, and I'm not even sure my mom wanted to, either. So that was fucked, and just reminded me why I hate these occasions. I find it difficult enough to relate to my mom on any normal day.

Saturday, we got a lot of practical shit done, K. and I, but the rest of the day was just... lost. To tiredness and complete exhaustion. Sunday was better and we did get some creative, fun stuff done, but these days any moment free is just a struggle to stay awake, honestly. Both for K. and I.

In a moment, I'll go out into the kitchen, put my foot up (it's swollen as all fuck) and read the last Sappho translation in my collection. Then, after that, I'll try writing another poem for Gorgo!