#1 12-01-07 08:13:08

annoula

Member

Registered: 30-12-06

Posts: 108

Poem or Porn

Maybe it is not allowed, feel free to close the thread.

The title is purely for drama.

Thought we might post a poem or small excerpt of an erotic text/poem etc.
Whatever we like and maybe something we have written...
A post inspired by that other post about creativity...

*
Ritual face masks
from another religion and time
had in their hollow eyes
a mosaic of mirrors.

In there, i first saw my gaze.
*
D.Papaioannou. 1981. My teacher.

Bad transaltion from Greek...

Edited...
This is weird. Just finished posting and got an email with a poem from someone .
Posting it for you as well..

INSTANTS

If I could live again my life,
In the next - I'll try,
- to make more mistakes,
I won't try to be so perfect,
I'll be more relaxed,
I'll be more full - than I am now,
In fact, I'll take fewer things seriously,
I'll be less hygenic,
I'll take more risks,
I'll take more trips,
I'll watch more sunsets,
I'll climb more mountains,
I'll swim more rivers,
I'll go to more places - I've never been,
I'll eat more ice creams and less (lime) beans,
I'll have more real problems - and less imaginary
ones,
I was one of those people who live
prudent and prolific lives -
each minute of his life,
Offcourse that I had moments of joy - but,
if I could go back I'll try to have only good moments,

If you don't know - thats what life is made of,
Don't lose the now!

I was one of those who never goes anywhere
without a thermometer,
without a hot-water bottle,
and without an umberella and without a parachute,

If I could live again - I will travel light,
If I could live again - I'll try to work bare feet
at the beginning of spring till
the end of autumn,
I'll ride more carts,
I'll watch more sunrises and play with more children,
If I have the life to live - but now I am 85,
- and I know that I am dying ...

Jorge Luis Borges

Last edited by annoula (12-01-07 08:18:40)

---

annoula from greece

...mistakes are gonna happen, so i make them consciously...that way i am in control.

The_Elfman

Member

From: Yorkshire & Imladris

Registered: 17-07-06

Posts: 1,028

Website

Re: Poem or Porn

Ritual face masks
from another religion and time
had in their hollow eyes
a mosaic of mirrors.

In there, i first saw my gaze.

Is this your work annoula?  It's very good.

It's funny you should also include something by Borge.  I recently came across something by him in another place.  I copy it below with the poem it inspred me to write:
____________________________________________

Inferno, I, 32

by Jorge Luis Borges [This is the complete text of a short parable.]

From the half-light of dawn to the half-light of evening, the eyes of a leopard, in the last years of the twelfth century, looked upon a few wooden boards, some vertical iron bars, some varying men and women, a blank wall, and perhaps a stone gutter littered with dry leaves. The leopard did not know, could not know, that it yearned for love and cruelty and the hot pleasure of tearing flesh and a breeze with the scent of deer, but something inside it was suffocating and howling in rebellion, and God spoke to it in a dream: You shall live and die in this prison, so that a man that I have knowledge of may see you a certain number of times and never forget you and put your figure and your symbol into a poem, which has its exact place in the weft of the universe. You suffer captivity, but you shall have given a word to the poem. In the dream, God illuminated the animal's rude understanding and the animal grasped the reasons and accepted its fate, but when it awoke there was only an obscure resignation in it, a powerful ignorance, because the machine of the world is exceedingly complex for the simplicity of a savage beast.

Years later, Dante was to die in Ravenna, as unjustified and alone as any other man. In a dream, God told him the secret purpose of his life and work; Dante, astonished, learned at last who he was and what he was, and he blessed the bitternesses of his life. Legend has it that when he awoke, he sensed that he had received and lost an infinite thing, something he would never be able to recover, or even to descry from afar, because the machine of the world is exceedingly complex for the simplicity of men.

_________________________________________________
My thoughts inspired by this:

What refuge then for we poor wanderers, astray in this unhappy world?
No hope of surcease we foredoomed to ignorance of times deep majesty.
No hint of purpose to relieve our fumbling we crawl blindly on like drunkards.
Pointless in our ramblings.

Yet why seek for meaning in our abandonment if ignorance is innocence?
If soft content of unawareness brings a peace to truth-benighted souls
Why lust we then for karmic sight to guide us to enlightenment
Lest “nothing” be our fate?

Man’s thirst for understanding of this tyranny of time and space confines us all
And makes us slaves to cosmic powers that care not of our petty dreams of being.
Perhaps it is our purpose but to purpose our unhappy state,
And drown in our confoundment.

Elfman

---

Honi Soit Qui Mal Y Pense

Siobhan

Member

Registered: 15-06-06

Posts: 823

Re: Poem or Porn

lovely. very. thank you!

---

Under all speech that is good for any-thing there lies a silence that is better.  Silence is as deep as Eternity;  speech is as shallow as Time.--Thomas Carlysle

annoula

Member

Registered: 30-12-06

Posts: 108

Re: Poem or Porn

Dear Elfman,
I quoted the author on the bottom, he was my Art History teacher.

Learned a lot from him but mostly about allowing my darker side free to express itself. I remember my first projects for him and my last...What a long journey in self discovery...

Unfortunately Greek language cannot translate properly. It carries emotion in every word in a different context/way than English. Some words don't even exist...

*ksenitia* for example. Means when people leave their country to work as immigrants. But when you say the word it carries the pain and longing for your place...Haven't found a word to discribe that in English...

Has anyone read Silk by Alessandro Baricco? If i wasn't so lazy i would type up the most magnificent erotic scene involving drinking tea. I mentioned this before i think....

As for your piece inspired by Borges
Your writing was such tender anquish.

Bye now

Last edited by annoula (12-01-07 17:08:18)

---

annoula from greece

...mistakes are gonna happen, so i make them consciously...that way i am in control.

Siobhan

Member

Registered: 15-06-06

Posts: 823

Re: Poem or Porn

I haven't read it. However, I thought of your post about it when a friend shared his thoughts the other day about tea -- it's not erotic except insofar as all good writing is somewhat erotic.

drinking: lapsang souchong

thinking:  a word has two qualities. one measurable, which is its everday use, and the other is the marvel of its existence altogether....an unmeasurable.

...are our spaces, places of from, or places of to? it must be a place which in spirit must be 'from' where you go, not 'to' where you go.

a paragraph on tea...

sleeping crystals of sweetness dream softly of a quick spoon as i pull a column of tea into the air with my diffuser. my eyes trace the short lived wisps of steam with infant wonderment. i look back to my book, an unofficial rose, and think back to the author's life and those three hundred pages, words, and letters she labored over. the tiny moments of punctuation, so often taken for granted. the occassional misprint followed by two pages, uncut, bound together as if a secret passage without which theis story, the characters, and their plot in life would go misunderstood.

i'm sure we'll enjoy your excerpt when you're so inclined.

---

Under all speech that is good for any-thing there lies a silence that is better.  Silence is as deep as Eternity;  speech is as shallow as Time.--Thomas Carlysle

annoula

Member

Registered: 30-12-06

Posts: 108

Re: Poem or Porn

didn't need to twsit my arm...

The bit from the back of the book...

This sensual and hypnotic novel tells astory of adventure and obsession. In 1861 french silkworm mercharnt Herve Joncour travels to Japan, where he encounters the musterious Hara Kei. He develops a painful longing for Kei's beautiful concubine-but they cannot touch, they do not even speak. And he cannot read the nore she sends him until he has returned to his own country. But the moment he does, Joncour is enslaved. Subtle, tender and surprising Silk is an evocative tale of erotic possession.

This part is when he first sees her...He is talking with Hara Kei while she is laying in his lap.

Herve Joncour continued to tell his story, as he had never in his life done.
The girl continued to stare at him, with a violence that wrenched from every word the obligation to be menorable. The room seemed to have slipped into an irreversible stillness when suddenly, and in utter silence, she stuck one hand outside her robe and slid it along the mat in front of her. Herve Joncour saw that pale spot reach the edge of his vision, saw it touch Hara Kei's cup of tea and then, suddenly, absurdly, continue to slide until, without hesitation, it grasped the other cup, which was inexorably the cup HE had drunk from, raised it slightly, and carried it away. Not for an instant had Hara Kei stopped staring expressionlessly at Herve Joncour's lips.

The girl lifted her head slightly.
For the first time she took her eyes off Herve Joncour and rested them on the cup.
Slowly she rotated it until she had her lips at the exact point where he had drunk.
Half closing her eyes, she took a sip of tea.
She removed the cup from her lips.
She slid it back to where she had picked it up.
Her hand vanished under her robe.
She rested her head again on Hara Kei's lap.
Eyes open, fixed on those of Herve Joncour.

---

annoula from greece

...mistakes are gonna happen, so i make them consciously...that way i am in control.