I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life.Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,
What a bargain, let’s buy!
— Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)
01 Wednesday Nov 2017
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I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life.Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,
What a bargain, let’s buy!
— Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)
01 Wednesday Nov 2017
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If anyone asks you
how the perfect satisfaction
of all our sexual wanting
will look, lift your face
and say,
Like this.
When someone mentions the gracefulness
of the nightsky, climb up on the roof
and dance and say,
Like this.
If anyone wants to know what “spirit” is,
or what “God’s fragrance” means,
lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.
Like this.
When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.
Like this.
If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don’t try to explain the miracle.
Kiss me on the lips.
Like this. Like this.
When someone asks what it means
to “die for love,” point
here.
If someone asks how tall I am, frown
and measure with your fingers the space
between the creases on your forehead.
This tall.
The soul sometimes leaves the body, then returns.
When someone doesn’t believe that,
walk back into my house.
Like this.
When lovers moan,
they’re telling our story.
Like this.
I am a sky where spirits live.
Stare into this deepening blue,
while the breeze says a secret.
Like this.
When someone asks what there is to do,
light the candle in his hand.
Like this.
How did Joseph’s scent come to Jacob?
Huuuuu.
How did Jacob’s sight return?
Huuuu.
A little wind cleans the eyes.
Like this.
When Shams comes back from Tabriz,
he’ll put just his head around the edge
of the door to surprise us
Like this.
— Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)
01 Wednesday Nov 2017
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glottal stop, metaphyics, paul celan, poem, Poetry, quote unquote
with wine and being lost, with
less and less of both:I rode through the snow, do you read me,
I rode God far—I rode God
near, he sang,
it was
our last ride over
the hurdled humans.They cowered when
they heard us
overhead, they
wrote, they
lied our neighing
into one of their
image-ridden languages.
01 Wednesday Nov 2017
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blast of love, metaphyics, poem, Poetry, Sappho, willis barnstone
Like a mountain whirlwind
punishing the oak trees,
love shattered my heart.
Sappho (translated by Willis Barnstone)
01 Wednesday Nov 2017
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metaphyics, paralysis, poem, Poetry, Sappho, willis barnstone
Mother darling, I cannot work the loom,
for sleek Aphrodite has almost crushed
and broken me with desire for a boy.
Sappho (translated by Willis Barnstone)
01 Wednesday Nov 2017
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angakkuq, Jane Hirshfield, metaphyics, poem, Poetry, the great sea, Uvavnuk
The great sea
frees me, moves me,
as a strong river carries a weed.
Earth and her strong winds
move me, take me away,
and my soul is swept up in joy.
— Uvavnuk
(translated by Jane Hirshfield)
Note: Uvavnuk was an Inuit woman born in the 19th century. She became a poet and an angakkuq (shamanic spiritual healer), when her songs came to her in dreams. They were collected by European explorers of Arctic Canada in the early 1920s.
01 Wednesday Nov 2017
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may the tide
that is entering even now
the lip of our understanding
carry you out
beyond the face of fear
may you kiss
the wind then turn from it
certain that it will
love your back may you
open your eyes to water
water waving forever
and may you in your innocence
sail through this to that
31 Tuesday Oct 2017
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bewitchingly, delight, erotic poetry, euphorically horny, get undressed, Happy Halloween, I miss your laughter, sonnet
I am naked all day to match my mood —
The French must have a word meaning, “almost
euphorically horny.” It’s why I’m nude
writing this to you now, little sad ghost
that no one wants. Come over, I want you.
We can preen, paint our nails, slurp tea, snuggle
or do that one thing that the living do
to feel better. That one obscene, shameful,
sublimely fun act that you have not done
in ages. We will be naked chums, bosom
pals, wild playmates. Little sad ghost, lover,
delight is contagious, and so is fun.
Life is too short for sorrow and boredom.
Come here. Get undressed. I miss your laughter.
29 Sunday Oct 2017
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childe harold's pilgrimage, Lord Byron, masturbation, ocean, Poetry, quote unquote, wanton with thy breakers
And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy
I wantoned with thy breakers—they to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror—’twas a pleasing fear,
For I was as it were a child of thee,
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane—as I do here.
29 Sunday Oct 2017
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haiku, Jane Reichhold, masturbation, ocean, Poetry, quote unquote
squirting water
between old rocks the ocean
plays with itself