Untitled (Day)

An original poem, inspired by Functional Fragrance.

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The olfactory system is often forgotten in day-to-day life, but it has remained a constant source of inspiration in literature—particularly poetry—for centuries. Unlike reality for many of us, the conceptual and imaginative world of the poet leaves room for sensory explanations beyond the literal materiality of concrete ingredients. Put simply: They are better suited at using words to describe the emotional impact of smell on our physical well-being.

With that in mind, we tasked Brooklyn-based performance artist and poet, Yves B. Golden to pen an original work, inspired by our newest supplement, Functional Fragrance. In 'Untitled (Day),' Golden distills the before and after effects of using the uplifting, anti-stress scent on a typical day in New York City.

Read on—and don't "forget to breathe."


Untitled (Day)

some days
are made of these - hard, matted shoulders
                                  stacked into gates
                                  not even clarity funneling through.
                                  no breathing room
                                  until, single file, we
                                  have the light again
                                  but never
                                  enough of it.

                                  setting through solids
                                  like a dream.
                                  bedrock, steel
                                  and time - all in a snap,
                                  or the flip of a page.

                                  on your feet or
                                  the lip of a seat
                                  inside
                                  while the streets rage - cataloguing
                                  progress, flash
                                  of strobing daylight. 

                                  tomorrow's, tonight's, next week's.

days made of            not only mondays, wednesdays, fridays.
days made of            long distance contacts, commutes, screens.

                       accustomed to asking
                       what day/hour/retrograde
                       it is.                              Sometimes

 

I forget.                  to breathe.

                                    to draw an eight with my eyes closed on the train.
                                    to lean my tomorrow down to tend to later.
                                    to strum the walls with my passing them.

what's changed?
I was here once.
it might.           snow soon/rain soon.
the sun's setting.

                       days made of this and everything else.

pauses.

 

ease in waking hours,
                                    smiles, generosity, chance.

                                    the makings of a life unlike any you could've imagined.

all                      days              made

                                                                     of this.
 

 

Discover The Journal
Meet Yves B. Golden
Every Ingredient That Makes Functional Fragrance Smell So Good

Photograph Moran Dankner for The Nue Co.