Tag Archives: love poems

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… first journal entry of 2005 …

I’ve been thinking about how I got into Brasil, how much the world
has opened up to me since Alcir first stepped into my life.

After him, it was the music first, that caught me.  I would hear a
voice like his, hear that accent.  That music station I found that
played global fusion jazz stuff, where I first heard Djavan.
The world beat program from Mendo, with Lilia, a Brasiliera.
The diversity of music blew me away…

The African beats, the syncopation, the many layered subtleties…
I’d never heard anything like it.  From there, of course the next
was the language.
I could hear the like-Spanish sounds, but again so many more levels
and intricacies … more like a combination of Spanish and French…
it tickled my ear, and brought back his memories… the sound
of his accent… so I got some Portuguese Language tapes, and
began understanding a little.

I began collecting CDs, and saw the faces of Brasil, understood the
cultural mix of Portuguese, gypsies in a way, having been on the sea for forever…the Latin feels… the Indigenous, from the Amazon with
their wild and savage ferocity and their forest sounds, and African
rhythms from the slaves they brought in and screwed.

I learned of the vastness and diversity of the country itself, noticing
programs on Brasil, the Rainforst, the Amazon, the abundance and
the pillaging of resources.
No one had ever taught me that Brasil is Bigger than the States!

I got a couple movies, after the Bravo Station TV showed me
‘ Dona Flora and Her Two Husbands’  (with Sonya Bragga),
‘Bye Bye Brasil’,
‘Xica do Silva’,
and of course Raoul Julia in ‘Kiss of the Spider Woman’.

Here he plays a Brasilian Revolutionary in a Sao Paolo prison.
He So reminded me of Alcir, so angry and discouraged, his young
ideals dashed like stormy waves on the rocks of reality….and
with Sonia Bragga as three different women: the real one,
the imagined one in the romantic story related  to him by his
gay cell mate, and the morphine dream one, well,
I immediately identified, and watched it more than several times.

In the scene where he is dreaming, after pain and morphine have
taken over, in that dream she comes into the hospital and whisks
him away to a small row boat… and she rows him out onto the water,
and although deeply in pain, he begins to relax… and she says:
“This dream is short, but it is happy”  …
well, the parallel was uncanny.

From there, it was Payakan, one leader of the Kayapo trying to
save their villages from the disasters of logging and gold mining…
and more CDs from the different areas and varieties of style.

Sting and Trudy, and the Rainforest Foundation…and then
The Djavan Concert !  that was maybe ’89 or ’90… took Piney and Lily,
danced shoulder to shoulder with a huge room of crazy Brasilians,
and grokked the energies for real.   Such a filling of knowing.

Met Piney in the city at a Brasilian nite club, and drank their fruity
Rum drinks, ate fried Yucca with hot salsa… I was hooked big time.

Oh The Feojoada!  I invited about 25 of my friends for a nite of the
whole real deal, with the many traditional dishes,
…and with Brasilian Movies, and Music playing in
the background all night.  It was a sensational success!
(it’s sort of like their version of Thanksgiving, but I discovered later
that because it is a meal based on African roots and foods… poor…
it is Not enjoyed by more Aristocratic Brasilians!)

The David Byrns compilations, and beginning to understand the
differences between the regions, Rio and Bahia, and all those
reflections in the music styles.
After a few years, I focused more on certain singers and composers,
especially Jobim, Caetano Veloso, Milton Nacimiento, Joao Gilberto,
and of course the old Samba stuff, both traditional street samba and
Bossa Nova, with Jobim, Joao and Stan Getz, from the sixties.
Terrific stuff.
Back in the sixties, I’d seen Brasil 66 at the Hollywood Bowl, with
no clue whatsoever on who they were at all.
Now I listened and Got it all.

**JAN 4th… by now Piney has offered me her Travel Miles, and I
have told him the news.  It’s really happening now.
Well…. he called tonite, and asked if I could call him back, because
his rates are so high there.  It was nice to have him call and miss me.

It seems he had a story to relate to me…  TWO of his exes came by
to see him at the same time, and after fighting with eachother
(scarey women), they Both turned on Him!
Ha ha ha…wish I could have watched!  Brasilian Novellas are
really really melodramatic and full of sound and fury.
So now he’s been drinking Vodka, and was very talkative and funny,
as well as rather philosophical.

He started talking about Colin Powell and Congoleeza, and said
he didn’t trust women who don’t have orgasms… which led to
having a hard on, which he called ‘a woodie’…. whereupon he said
“Oh, this isn’t a woodie…. this is Hardwood” and
so I added ‘tropical hardwood’… mmmmm!

He began reminiscing… “when I kissed you, I felt life.  I was Alive.
We found eachother in a very common way.
With you, I was fucking Life.
I was filling up myself with Life, I was mesmerized by you.
I was not amused with life at that time.

I am not the person I Am right now.
I’m just a regular Joe Drunk… I do nothing.  I don’ have to work,
I do drougs…
But with other weemen, they don’ add anythin’…
they take…I take…
a little piece of ass or sometheen… But…I’ve seen beyond.

Oh, I have a big hardon, where you can sit and make yourself
comfortable.   We’re just a couple of Sr Citizens….”

“NO!  I’m not a senior citizen!” I jumped in…

“I wouldn’t be fucking a Sr Citizen!” he laughed…
” I would be expecting a Boy Scout to come by an say ‘NO!…
you can’ Do that!…. oh here, can I help you across the street?’ ”

We were both laughing now.  He said his bottle of Vodka was
half empty, and with the talk about his cynicism, I chided him
with the old…  ” it’s half Full ” thing…
“Well,”  he said…”if we put you an me together, we have
a Whole Fucking Bottle!”

 

 

by

…it’s all now…

Writing is an interesting process.   There’s that word again… interesting.
If you pay attention, you notice changes about yourself… growth,
hopefully, and also a broadening of perspective as you see yourself
as others might see you.

As the years, and chapters, spin by… faster each year, like horses on
their return trip home, one begins to see how the writing
changes the writer.

As I review… Re-View… my journals, I enjoy both the actuality of
the moment, and the perspective I gain about myself.

I still believe the story I am telling is a valid and delightful story,
a classic if you will, with iconic characters acting out some pre-
ordained dance, and I also know that he and I have danced before,
and will again.  For life is not only ongoing…  it is a forever decision
we all have made, and denial is only a brief retreat from what
our soul knows……. The Forever Dance.

A new friend of mine, reading my blog for the first time,  noted that
she hated thinking of me as hung up on some dude, that
she did not see me as someone like that… and so it set me to thinking.

No, my friends, I am not…
Not that type, nor that woman.
This was a chapter of my ongoing life, and I am firmly in the now,
whilst enjoying a story that for me has become something classic
that I want to share.
For there are not only wonderful stories and dreamscapes….
there are things to be learned…. and not just for me either.

When I was a child, I thought as a child, I understood as a child….
… I believe that is some bible quotation, but still it renders true,
for the journals I wrote then were truly as a child.
Love, Romance, and all the attached Thrills were my reality in
many ways, and I have paid the price of that naivete.

I have no need to go down that path anymore, for now I see what
I went there to see.
Love has many flavors, degrees, and depths.  One can Love, and
yes, truly Love at that;  but if that Love is not enlightened by
wisdom and vision, the quest for love becomes a distraction from
the Real, a rush towards emotional sensations, and a mistaking of
passion for Love, of thrills for Love, and worse yet, the choice of
who receives that focus of Love can end up with Love being thrown
at someone who cannot Love at all.

Ah, the Chase, the challenge, the hunt, the seeking of a prize, the
reliving and reworking of past and unfinished scenarios….
I see all these things in my past choices.

I am a different person now.  I enjoy my past movies, but I thankfully
have moved on to a realer place, having learned from my
myriad of choices…
I mean…..How many times before you Get it…?
They may come up above ground once in a while, and wave a little
hello to me, but I see them for what they are, for things I already
have figured out, and I smile at myself.

Interestingly enough, most recently I had a visitation from an
old/younger Love of mine, and for me it was a clear reminder of
what I Really want.
He is clear, high minded, multi-faceted, brilliantly beautiful, and accomplished.  A musician, a writer, a thinker, and…a grown up.

In order to make these things happen, he has not frittered his talents
and gifts away.  Nay, he has made the best of it all, and as we spent
the evening together, I realized that this unassuming and gentle soul
was indeed my Twin Soul in so many ways;  ways that created
seamless mind melds and common ahas…
enough to make you believe in the mystery of connections,
the Mystical Web of Cosmic Consciousness.   And yet in this lifetime,
we each have chosen to pursue the lessons of life that were needed
to fulfill our promises.

I chose bad boys…. he chose complex and neurotic women…
……funny, huh?

Now, we could have chosen eachother, and it would be a blissful and
heavenly blend of all that either could ever want… that became
very clear as the evening progressed,
and much to our mutual surprise.

Instead, we’ve been doing our homework.  I know that we are drifting on parallel paths, and we also know there is a past and
there is a future…….and the Ever Now.

I believe in parallel realities.  I know that these exist simultaneously…
so then I was faced with the fact that it’s all just Fine, that it’s
all going on just as it should, just as it will, and just as we each
decide to write it…
I also realized that the He that he is, that I wish I could blissfully
enjoy right now, is there always, for me once I learn what
I need to learn, once I’m ready to relax, to just Be in Bliss….
Oh, that struggle can be so seductive!  but
it’s like you never Get there…

I know that the bliss is there, because I once woke up from a dream,
and he was still holding me, my pillow his shoulder, and in the
morning misty wakes, I lay in quiet bliss…

For now, I go on learning my lessons, taking my classes in
personalities, and seductive paths.
This visit with my beloved friend has reminded me of how far
I’ve come, and how far I have to go.
It also has reminded me that I Will Not Settle for any less than
exactly where I am, and where I’m going, myself.

At some point there are Bardos that we reach, and we jump…
and move on to new vistas.  I look forward to the next Bardos…
For now, this one has some very nice views and vistas that
I shall enjoy for a while.
The Bliss is there in the future, there in my dreams, and here
in the now as I so choose it.

It’s all here… all of it together …. all Now… all One.

 

 

by

…be careful what you ask for…

Journal entry…
December, 2004
“She paged down through the poem…
CAROL!… and as she read each line, it dawned on her like a
velvet sledgehammer… It just built and built…
no wishywashy here…  here’s a man of action…and….
oh shit…I have a tiger by the tail.
Holy shit…. to be the love of my life?  … Be Mine…?
Her heart beat itself out of it’s chambers, and flew round the room.
Oh my God, oh my God…she paced, she emphatically pulled her
hair back, she swore…
She wanted to call someone, anyone close, closest, must share,
must pour out, must have support…
But then she stopped.
Whoa girlie, just slow down here, just stop for a minute…
This is big.  This is something entirely different.  Not high school,
not movie romance…
This is the most devistating man she had ever met, coming back
after 15, no 18 years, and basically proposing to her.
Too much, must absorb, must breath, must take time here.
She decided to put the lid on, turn down the heat, let it
percolate a while.
Let it sink in, let this mortal mind wrap around this here thing…
Hours passed before she slept.  Waves crashed on shores of sanity,
dreams washed over her, past footage reviewing itself,
replay, replay… then….now…..then……now….
Him then….him now….. melding, morphing…pulling itself through
a wormhole, to pop up into Now.
On the phone, she could hear the change in his voice.  Softer,
a little weary, not so testosterone based, so deep and insistent,
the ego had polished up it’s edges a bit.
His daughter interrupted, and it pleased her to no end to hear him
pattering with her in Portuguese, hear the patience, the tenderness,
the Realness that he shared with her…
He talked freely with her in spite of the fact that she was there.
He’s so comfortable with his animal…
“I’m a millenium father… my daughter will know about things…
Know how to handle herself in situations, know how to give pleasure
and not endanger herself…”
“She’s very jealous”, he told her… “All little girls are having sex
with their fathers…Oh I don’t mean literally, but in their mind…”
He was right, I guess.  She thought of her father, and how being
with him had made her feel as a child.
He was safe, comfortable, warm, unthreatened and unthreatening.
And Physical… they’d wrestle and tickle and horse around, and she
loved it…when she heard of other girls having creepy feelings
with their dad, she couldn’t even relate… he was never like that.
“And I always wanted to win over Mom,”  she thought to herself….
I thought I was better for him…….Mom was mean, she didn’t
understand him and me…”   All her life, she realized, all her life she’d
had some competition for the daddy going on, in one place or another.
But it was hard for her to think of her daddy as a sex object… it just
wasn’t there at all… she wanted his focus, his attention, but not that…
Maybe that was why short men never did it for her.  Or maybe
it was because the more ineffectual her daddy became under the
duress of years, the more she fixed on tallness in a man.
“Oh give me a big yummy alpha… make him smarter and stronger,
please dear God I can’t do to him what my mother did to daddy..”
And now… Alcir is here.  Mr Alpha Man big Alcir…
He is back and is ready …
He is asking me to come and live with him in Rio.
Oh, I need to write it every once in a while, because my poor brain
is having a contortionist’s challenge, wrapping around this one…
I’m rushing toward it, and
I’m terrified.
I’m hiding while …. I can’t wait.”