Four Unpublished Poems*
[pdf]
Maya Deren
Never Alone
1. Never
alone! Never alone!
There’s
always somebody near
Someone
will follow me close to my bone.
I’m never
alone! Never alone!
2. You may
think that you are alone,
But there’s
always somebody near.
That
somebody finds out your secrets with ease,
To your
drawers he has all the keys.
3. And now
I’ll tell you who I mean
I know
you’ll be glad to hear
That its God, its God, Almighty God,
That keeps
so very near.
Summer 1927
Untitled
When rains come down to flood the town
And earnest citizens really ought’er
try to make and keep things sort’er
dry…
I make water.
When water’s rare and cattle’s dying
and I’m as thirsty as can be
and long for some water in me—
God-damn it!
I still pee.
1938
To
F.M.
I waited for you in the fields of afternoon’
Eyes closed, I lay upon the grass
Listening for the sound of steps in the swaying of the trees;
Waiting for my lips to feel lips where the soft breeze had been;
Body tense to feel the warmth of hands where warmth of sun had shone.
You did not come. I went inside
Complaining that the suns go down
And that the wind is far too chill
And that trees make so much noise
A person’d better take her nap indoors.
1938
It Must Be Done with
Mirrors
It must be
done with mirrors
my head
that rests on nothing in mid-air.
Where is my
body
where oh
where?
I can see
the stones
hidden in
the hands.
O bring
back my body to me, to me,
O miracle
bring it back
before the mirrors break.
March 1942
My Day
The idiot
child with three eyes
who plays
its senseless games endlessly
in my
back yard
and stops
suddenly to laugh or cry
for no
reason at all
became enraged at nothing this morning
and drank
up all the soup in the kettle.
Its
two-legged dog peed all over my carpets.
When I went
out to hang them up to dry
I found
that the two of them had shed skin
all over
the lawn. As I was raking this up
they set
fire to the house, using it to cook
the spaghetti which they wreathed around them.
When I
arrived in Asia, they were both contemplating
their navels. Upon closer inspection I discovered
that there were gold-fish bowls embedded in their bellies
in which
they had caged two mating humming birds.
It was this
which in truth held their attention.
In India,
as I was swimming, they caught me on a line
and dragged me all the way to Paris, where they began painting
and became famous. They received tooth-picks in payment
and exchanged these for passage on a transatlantic whale.
After this
arduous journey they both slept forty days
screaming from nightmare every seven minutes.
Then they
went out into the back yard to play.
March 10,
1942
*These poems are found in Maya Deren’s papers, which are housed in the Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.
Deren studied journalism and
literature as an undergraduate student at Syracuse University and then at New
York University, where she completed her B.A. in 1936. She earned an M.A. in
English literature at Smith College in 1939. Her M.A. thesis explored the influence
of the French Symbolist tradition on Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot. Her interest in
poetry was intense, and she wrote poetry from the period of her childhood on up
until her turn, in 1943, to filmmaking. She did not, however, publish her poems
in any professional context.
The first poem published here, “Never Alone,” was written when Deren was
ten years old and living in Syracuse, New York. She and her family had emigrated to the United States from Kiev, Ukraine only six
years before. Deren began her formal education in
Syracuse, but was sent abroad to finish her secondary education at the League
of Nations boarding school in Geneva.
The poems written in 1938 (“Untitled” and “To
F.M.”) were written in Northampton, Massachusetts while Deren was at Smith. Her letters and diaries indicate that she read widely, but her
thesis offers evidence that she regarded Eliot as the most fully realized poet
of his day.
The poems from 1942 were written in Los
Angeles after Deren had joined up with the filmmaker
and cinematographer Alexander (“Sasha”) Hammid to
whom she was briefly married. (Hammid was the second
of her three husbands.) While I am disinclined to give these later poems
(seemingly, based on the evidence in the archives, some of the last she would
write) a too-teleogical reading, their emphasis on
vision and paratactic imagery seems to anticipate her turn to filmmaking.
Robert Steele, a professor of film at Boston
University who died leaving behind several unfinished biographical and critical
studies on Deren, tried repeatedly, but with no
success to interest numerous publishers in putting out a volume of Deren’s unpublished poetry. The rejection letters he
received—also found in the Maya Deren Collection—tend to reiterate the opinion that Deren’s poetry had no intrinsic interest.
-John
David Rhodes
From the Maya Deren Collection, Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center
at Boston University.
The editors extend their warmenst thanks to the Howard Gotlieb Center for permission to
publish these poems.
