Penelope
There is a poem which threads through Dance The Colour Blue, refering back to The Odyssey. A plea from Penelope to be heard. Although, thanks to Homer, we can never be sure we are hearing this enigmatic character clearly.
The poem appears here in full. The third stanza is added for completeness. It did not feature in the play.
Penelope
Once on a overcast morning, I asked the messenger Hermes
Is time a dancing boy whose legs move bright with speed?
Tenderly taking my hand, he affirmed my familiar fate
Denizens, five score men, claiming a tenure of nature that’s yours
me; tears stain my face entering more deeply into my heart
Swiftly days pass, Odysseus, for the dark chases them away
Three years last you laid by my side, must yet I prepare for three more?
So, they have seen a shroud woven, an experience that, among others!
Yes, I suppose they have, although they can hardly be certain
And in this unwove state, could they ever declare they had seen it?
But a shroud was woven, they do say, in a place where they saw
something; a shroud was woven, they do say and they see nothing.
Lidless eyes seek sleepless ears, they betray then arraign me
Suitors stay their wretched hand forestalling their mercenary souls
This woman’s work, hitherto hidden, now must be seen to be done
And whom to follow: astute Arete or wiley Clytemnestra?
Mother of Naussica, daughter of Leda, speaking together
in tongues; so as to say the un-said, the threading of the unthread
And by Apollo, I speak truth to power, where’er it is found.
Tell me my love, how you sleep when tomorrow starts without me
Do you see the rings of sorrow on the rosy fingers of dawn?
How sits the guilt finding pleasure pleasing inferior women?
Could not what you do more quickly be done to save Ithaka?
Each day, unknowingly, I bring to mind a version of you who’s
no longer here, a little less clear, as I roam from room to room
My hand holding firm a key that turns fear into unearned hope
The Kingdom rests on a kiss, a breath away, and I feel no guilt.