What Poets think is Sexy, Then & Now
| 1906 | 2006 |
| ---------- | ---------- |
| jewels | broken glass |
| swans | skulls |
| sandals | boots |
| the color blue | the color black |
| beehives | rats |
| containers, overflowing | containers, penetrated |
| fire | explosions |
| greek gods | rock stars |
| nostalgic carpe diem | nostalgic irony |
| Pan | Kali |
| doves | Hello Kitty |
| vampires | vampires |
| marble | plastic |
| hearts, guts, soul | hearts, guts, hypothalamus |
| lutes, lyres | guitars |
| roses | blood |
| stars | streetlights |
| statues | superheroes |
| the sun | cold fusion |
| gold | stainless steel |
| imagining one's self as a corpse | actually dressing up as a corpse |
| meteors | meteors |
| opium | crystal meth |
| sailing ships | pirates |
It would be amusing to take some poems from a hundred years ago, run them through the symbolic object equivalency table updater and see what happens.
Black Midnights
Black midnights I bear within me from my misspent youth,
babydykes backstage with Ani DiFranco...
I am cyborg, transhuman, I radiate power,
stainless steel pierces my tender tongue,
cold fusion that penetrates me as no man ever could...
A man is a mere electrolytic cell,
A man is pseudo-science without peer review,
A man is a failed experiment that wisdom rejects.
Beautiful sisters, come with me, higher than crystal meth,
together we are the Indigo Girls, Willow, Xena,
pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, blood crashing like
heavy breakers on shattering skulls.
At night we are vampires, we are a deeper red than blood,
we are the skittering of rats, the strings of guitars, the streetlights' eternal hum.
Violet dusks...
Violet dusks I bear within me from my ancient past,
naked maidens at play with galloping centaurs...
Yellow sunlit days with brilliant gazes,
only sunbeams do true homage to a tender woman's body...
No man has yet come, has ever been, will ever be...
A man is a false mirror that the sun's daughter hurls against the cliffs in rage,
A man is a lie that pure children do not understand,
A man is a rotten fruit that proud lips disdain.
Beautiful sisters, come high up onto the strongest rocks,
we are all amazons, heroines, horsewomen,
eyes of innocence, brows of heaven, buds of roses,
heavy breakers and soaring birds,
we are the least expected and the deepest red,
stripes of tigers, taut strings, stars without vertigo.
-- Edith Södergran (1916)
BTW, you can find the original-original here:
http://runeberg.org/sodrgran/01_11.h
Oh, and from the small-world department:
1. I only learned about Edith Södergran when she was quoted in Show Me Love, the best movie ever.
2. Two of the most most famous Finnish lesbian icons are both writers who write/wrote in Swedish: Edith Södergran, and Tove Jansson, who provided Moomin's nom de blog.
(Anonymous)
heh.