It is a serious thing
just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in this broken world.
— Mary Oliver —
unmarked trails (invitation)…
a brave and startling truth…
We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
that in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living,
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness,
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
and the proud back is glad to bend.
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction,
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines.When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear.When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it…
— Maya Angelou —
sometimes i am alive…
sometimes i am alive because with
me her alert treelike body sleeps
which i will feel slowly sharpening
becoming distinct with love slowly,
who in my shoulder sinks sweetly teeth
until we shall attain the Springsmelling
intense large togethercoloured instantthe moment pleasantly frightful
me her alert treelike body sleeps
which i will feel slowly sharpening
becoming distinct with love slowly,
who in my shoulder sinks sweetly teeth
until we shall attain the Springsmelling
intense large togethercoloured instantthe moment pleasantly frightful
when, her mouth suddenly rising, wholly
begins with mine fiercely to fool
(and from my thighs which shrug and pant
a murdering rain leapingly reaches the upward singular deepest flower which she carries in a gesture of her hips)
– e. e. cummings, “Sometimes I Am Alive Because With”
together…
fingertips trace cherry lips
lily tips part
satin pathways slick
elemental desires
Drip
Slip
Enfold
breathless delight
and we within our need
heed the call
the throbbing vow of
silk with steel
oh sweetest heat
of thus and thus and thus and
so the velvet vortex spins
every thrust a soiled expectation
glorious Mystery
claiming bodies alone yet not
proclaim-ing
the ‘we’ of ‘us’
if only
(we breathe)
if only
time and space might
Obliterate
Implode
Suspend
suspend us in the supposing
that he and she no longer partner
in this dance of a thousand waiting dawns
and just in this
the simple telling
of all that is joy
betwixt friend and lover
this simple light
the shining shadow of every day life
might bring us to pause
a place of rest
together
– by Lola Moi –
our bodies…
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
–firm–smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what–is–it comes
over parting flesh… And eyes big Love–crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new
– e.e. cummings –
your hands…
– ii-
your hands unhinge me
bending me to your will
kneading more than words
fingertips trace
my shivers
my shivers
your palms
chase my kisses
though we say it is yours
the pleasure is all mine
in you the earth
by Pablo Neruda
Little
rose,
roselet,
at times,
tiny and naked,
it seems
as though you would fit
in one of my hands,
as though I’ll clasp you like this
and carry you to my mouth,
but
suddenly
my feet touch your feet and my mouth your lips:
you have grown,
your shoulders rise like two hills,
your breasts wander over my breast,
my arm scarcely manages to encircle the thin
new-moon line of your waist:
in love you loosened yourself like sea water:
I can scarcely measure the sky’s most spacious eyes
and I lean down to your mouth to kiss the earth.
i said…
you inspire my naughty
you draw out my wet
my warm meow
every moan each dream
my hunger is yours
this arch that mound
this fold that ripple
silky pronouncements
echo lips eyes mouth hands
my every all
ache need want desire
my all of me
with all of you
come
bless this lust that love
christen our need
drench me
sing me your good
come
dip deep your wick of inspiration
have take hold sweet suck
grip swing pound darling fuck
please and more and now
yes you yes
say
yes you are my yes
here beneath your naughty
there wrapped around your good
yes
dear god
yes
‘tween the sheets
this new day dawns
with my lips devouring yours
our morning smells
mingling
under well-loved sheets
your name on my tongue
lover
my mind you have mated
and amazed my sight
how can i not
hold you in my waiting
my cooing dove
feel me reach
into countless tomorrows
not once letting go
this new day dawns
with its everythings and nothings
chosen and prescribed
promised
living moments given to an other
beyond the edge
of our bed’s horizon
so you caress your doubt
and search
my eyes for hope-giving light
that there is enough
to keep me near
when i am already
here
kissing you in bed
L
– Lola Moi –
wild berries…
when I watch you move
it’s as if
my eyes are old hands
uncovering and furtively picking
wild berries
before they fallit’s as if
I am parched
and you are water
and my eyes drink
till I am quenched
by your smooth taut skinit’s as if
you are a gift I open
my eyes long fingers
slowing untying a thin ribbon
that slips
beneath crisp paper,
smoothed out
by one long slow glance
— Marilyn Dumont —