anna
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发表于: 星期一 一月 25, 2010 9:40 pm    发表主题:

AA---

i am a bad influence, i think. encouraging you to be more overtly sensual and now here you are with a strictly over 18 adult poem.

you might not know bukowski, or have seen the movie based on his life, but he often writes like this:


Quote:
“you’d think I never paid the rent;
you’d think they’d allow a man to drink
and sit with a woman and watch the sun
come up.
I uncap the new bottle
from the bag and she sits in the corner
smoking and coughing
like an old Aunt from New Jersey.”


his reputation is made on the back of such clear, fierecely honest poem. however, he can also write like this now and then:




Quote:
“I awakened to dryness and the ferns were dead,
The potted plants yellow as corn;
my woman was gone
and the empty bottles like bled corpses
surrounded me with their uselessness . . .”

Lines from “THE TRAGEDY OF THE LEAVES”


you are at that stage. lyric intimacy.

how to be intimate without on the one hand being sentimental and on the other, pornographic. to be in the zone.

here is rexroth who was probably lousy in life with women, but could write some sizzling poems in the zone.


It is the Time of Rain and Snow
by Izumi Shikibu
Translated by Kenneth Rexroth


It is the time of rain and snow
I spend sleepless nights
And watch the frost
Frail as your love
Gathers in the dawn.
Night on the Great River




Quote:
My wife has been swimming in the breakers,
She comes up the beach to meet me, nude,
Sparkling with water, singing high and clear
Against the surf. The sun crosses
The hills and fills her hair, as it lights
The moon and glorifies the sea
And deep in the empty mountain melts
The snow of Winter and the glaciers
Of ten thousand thousand years.
---Rexroth




Like a bird-filled Summer. . .Rexroth

Those August evenings are
sixteen years old tonight
The white moon enters the heart of the river;
The air is drugged with azalea blossoms;
Deep in the night a pine cone falls;
Our campfire dies out in the empty mountains.

The problem with marriage is that it ends every night after making love, and it must be rebuilt every morning before breakfast.
Love in the Time of Cholera
Dr.Urbino


Dream Song 102: The sunburnt terraces which swans make homeJohn Berryman

The sunburnt terraces which swans make home
with water purling, Macchu Pichu died
like Delphi long ago—


Angela Carter the english/canadian modern fairy story teller---died in 192 in full command of her powers:

'The beach is full of the garbage of the ocean. The waves leave torn, translucent furls of polythene wrapping too tough for even this sea's iron stomach.''

her description of fireworks in Japan:

''opening out like variegated parasols''



In ''The Tiger's Bride,'' Angela Carter's haunting version of ''Beauty and the Beast,'' the hero does not become a handsome prince. Instead, Beauty is transformed into a tigress by his passionate kisses:


''Each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shiny hairs. My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur.''


intimacy is not only a chaste kiss. it often involves an element of both risk and danger.

and mystery:


Quote:
Love Poem
by Gregory Orr


A black biplane crashes through the window
of the luncheonette. The pilot climbs down,
removing his leather hood.
He hands me my grandmother's jade ring.
No, it is two robin's eggs and
a telephone number: yours.



this film clip:

Fermina & Florentino~ Love in the time of Cholera...Shakira-Pienso En Ti
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6diEygozpXk



The Girl with the Pearl Earring---

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Girl_with_a_Pearl_Earring




Quote:
The Moon and Kaguya

It's September 15, 1989.
I'm twenty years old.
My name is Kaguya.

I speak to a flamingo wall.
Autumn lilies smile
in their sleep.
The sky listens.
A wise wind
blows my voice

into the dying apricots.
My hair is dark
as sumi ink.
I let it grow
and trail down the back
of my kimono.



------

The sun is shining over Europe.
Tonight, I must rise in the East.
I help the wind grind shriveled
sardines into the soil.
We pull back our hair
like dried mushroom stems,

take scissors, cut it off,
until there's nothing left
but a stump of azaleas.



Rose, Where Did You Get That Red?

by Kenneth Koch



catherine deneuve's chanel ad---

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fr9sZEhpeyI



can you find three poems of intimacy that you want to share --- that you want to read again before attempting any revision of this poem?



mojave