Beginnings

March 15, 2015

I build you from scraps of air

I catch the thin wisps that flutter like butterflies
And delicately pin them to cardboard
I believe I am charting your smile
And trace my compass over the shores of your mouth
I carve with my hands, and mould your body 
Forming the breasts and thighs 
And sing with words the praise
As I stand back to marvel
Little do I know
I lost you then
You could never be pinned or charted or carved
I had to love you free
And let you dance
Like the summer sun
With your great eyes
Forever caressing me. 
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How vain is it to imagine

I could give you all, love and joy,
itineraries, music, toys.
It is like that, certainly:
everything I have, I give it to you, true,
but everything I have is not enough for you
as everything you have 
is not enough for me.

So we will never be
the perfect match, the postcard,
if we are unable to accept

solely in arithmetic
two comes from one plus one.

 

Laying around, a piece of paper
that only says:

You were always my mirror,
What I mean is, I had to look at you to see me.

And this fragment:

The slow machine of heartbreak
the gears of reflux
bodies leaving the pillows,

the sheets, the kisses 

and standing before the mirror questioning

each to himself
no longer facing each other
no longer naked for the other
I no longer love you,
my love.


Endings

March 15, 2015

Let me deconstruct you,

I am dismantling the green shades
The soft yellow walls that hearkens to fire
And turning up the green lawn
Undoing the garden of this old Eden. 
It is mechanical 
One brick, one block, one wall 
They come tumbling down
As methodically the foundation weakens. 
I am dismantling you
In the cold fury of night
That brings back the dark shades 
And wizened hands of solitude;
Whose touch will cause me to look
Ever so often behind,
At the desolate and lightening scarred
Solitary tree on which hung our smiles. 

I could love you forever
That distant place, stretching
Into the wilderness
Like the ends of the moor.
I want to tell you that
Not in short sharp sentences,
Not in subtle glances,
Lost in mist and rain,
But with that kiss
That lingers and haunts,
Like a phantasm
Who appears out of the wilderness
As you travel down
This never ending way.

ART & Thoughts

Z.-Z.-Wei 6

The Drive to love: The neural Mechanism for Mate Selection
Helen Fisher

“Since the heaven and earth were created, you were made for me and I was made for you and I will not let you go,” declared Chang Po to his beloved Meilan(Yutang, 1954, p.73) The chinese still cry over this twelfth-century Chinese fable, “The Jade Goddess,” their version of Romeo and Juliet. “My beloved, the delight of my eyes”, exclaimed Inanna of her beloved Dumuzi in a Sumerian poem recorded some four thousand years ago (Wolkstein, 1991, p.51) An anonymous Kwakiutl Indian of southern Alaska recited these words in 1896: ” Fires run through my body – the pain of loving you”(Hamill, 1996)
Paris and Helen, Orpheus and Eurydice, Abelard and Eloise, Troilus and Cressida, Tristan and Iseult, Shiva and Sati, Layla and Majnun: thousands of romantic poems, songs, and stories come across the centuries from Europe, the Middle…

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Last Snows

March 7, 2015

She stands silently

Eyes lost in the distance

With her hands clasped

In hope, lost in the dream;

A mouth partially opened

To feel the light breadth of warmth

Sighing between red cherry lips;

She is standing alone in the cold

Looking for that lost light of spring 

Looking at the blaze, just a reminder 

Of the passion that it brings.



Bhagavad Gītā

March 5, 2015

Morning

March 5, 2015

Don’t hide your face from me
Part those sheets, it is day.
I want to see the light
Trace the contours of your face
And I want to follow the light with my finger
Over every ridge, over the every fall;
I want it to glide like the hawks of spring
Over the peak of your nose, over the edge of your eyes
Until it is lost in that endless Neverland
Of your hair.

You open your eyes
And I see the damp
The tears quivering on edge
Its time to go, time for farewell
For me to lose your hair
Your vales, your soft blush
Of granite white
Loose them all
To the clouds and veils of good byes.