quarta-feira, 4 de janeiro de 2012
The Shower - by Hank Bukowski
(I like the water hotter than she)
and her face is always soft and peaceful
and she'll watch me first
spread the soap over my balls
lift the balls
squeeze them,
then wash the cock:
"hey, this thing is still hard!"
then get all the hair down there,-
the belly, the back, the neck, the legs,
I grin grin grin,
and then I wash her. . .
first the cunt, I
stand behind her, my cock in the cheeks of her ass
I gently soap up the cunt hairs,
wash there with a soothing motion,
I linger perhaps longer than necessary,
then I get the backs of the legs, the ass,
the back, the neck, I turn her, kiss her,
soap up the breasts, get them and the belly, the neck,
the fronts of the legs, the ankles, the feet,
and then the cunt, once more, for luck. . .
another kiss, and she gets out first,
toweling, sometimes singing while I stay in
turn the water on hotter
feeling the good times of love's miracle
I then get out. . .
it is usually mid-afternoon and quiet,
and getting dressed we talk about what else
there might be to do,
but being together solves most of it
for as long as those things stay solved
in the history of women and
man, it's different for each-
for me, it's splendid enough to remember
past the memories of pain and defeat and unhappiness:
when you take it away
do it slowly and easily
make it as if I were dying in my sleep instead of in
my life, amen.
sexta-feira, 30 de dezembro de 2011
sábado, 24 de dezembro de 2011
de Garcia Marquez
"Chegou a reconhecê-la no tumulto…
…através das lágrimas da dor que jamais se repetiria de morrer sem ela, e a olhou pela última vez para todo o sempre com os mais luminosos, mais tristes e mais agradecidos olhos que ela jamais vira no rosto dele em meio século de vida em comum, e ainda conseguiu dizer-lhe com o último alento:
- Só Deus sabe o quanto amei você."
segunda-feira, 5 de dezembro de 2011
Não sei de onde veio
Do inverno, de um rio
Não sei como nem quando
Não, não eram vozes
Não eram palavras
Nem silêncio
Mas da rua fui convocado
Dos galhos da noite
Abruptamente entre outros
Entre fogos violentos
Voltando sozinho
Lá estava eu sem rosto
E fui tocado."
Pablo Neruda
quinta-feira, 10 de novembro de 2011
My eyes seek reality
My fingers seek my veins
There's a dog at your back step
He must come in from the rain
I fall 'cause I let go
The net below has rot away
So my eyes seek reality
And my fingers seek my veins
The trash fire is warm
But nowhere safe from the storm
And I can't bear to see
What I've let me be
So wicked and worn
So as I write to you
Of what is done and to do
Maybe you'll understand
And won't cry for this man
'cause low man is due
Please forgive me
My eyes seek reality
My fingers feel for faith
Touch clean with a dirty hand
I touched the clean to the waste
The trash fire is warm
But nowhere safe from the storm
And I can't bear to see
What I've let me be
So wicked and worn
So as I write to you, yeah
Of what is done and to do, yeah
Maybe you'll understand
And won't cry for this man
'cause low man is due
Please forgive me
Please forgive me
Please forgive me
So low the sky is all I see
All I want from you is forgive me
So you bring this poor dog in from the rain
Though he just wants right back out again
And I cry to the alleyway
Confess all to the rain
But I lie, lie straight to the mirror
The one I've broken to match my face
The trash fire is warm
But nowhere safe from the storm
And I can't bear to see
What I've let me be
So wicked and worn
So as I write to you, yeah
Of what is done and to do, yeah
Maybe you'll understand
And won't cry for this man
'cause low man is due
Please forgive me
Please forgive me
So low the sky is all I see
All I want from you is forgive me
So you bring this poor dog in from the rain
Though he just wants right back out again
My fingers seek my veins
Saudades ♥