Dancing Tiger
          - mek 
       
      Kite of my heart flies with 
      the   dancing tiger 
       
      Tiger's tail fences with 
      the geyser’s   plume 
       
      Morning glory vines strung 
      in rows 
       
      a harem of   blue blossoms 
      swaying side by side 
       
      in the   breeze. 
       
      Captures my tiger’s heart. 
      
     
      
    The Shadow of Denial
    
    
      
         
            -   mek  
             
            How can I be  
            and not drive you away  
             
            when I   see your wounds,  
            your sad heart surrounded by knives of betrayal,  
            your   invisibly scarred body and tortured mind?  
             
            How can I say it — yet not   frighten you to withdraw,  
            as you too feel opened and  
            vulnerable to the   depths of your most  
            profound longings and sorrows?  
             
            How can I live   with the knowledge,  
            see your light shine from your soul  
            and go on in a   different way from whence I came —  
             
            I cannot heal your wounds while mine   still bleed —  
             
            Yet to find my own shattered pieces —  
            calling them   back to me by name  
             
            humming them through my vibrating lips,  
             
            dancing their colors,  
             
            writing their inordinant syllables on   slips of paper,  
             
            sounding them out as  
             
            I both howl out my grief at   their loss  
            and wail at my demise —  
             
            Visualizing — they float back to   me in still frame,  
             
            moving, shifting, rotating,  
            turning like a   vicarious puzzle that  
             
            oh so gently slides into focus  
            as the secret   key is turned  
            without fanfare?  
             
            And I slip into the sweet silent   serenity of sorrow once known.  
             
            How am I to see your light  
            if you do   not admit the darkness within  
            that gives it life?  
             
            Standing there,  
            pushing me away from you,  
             
            denying the shadows you throw as you   stride on,  
            casting me aside and leaving me fallen to the depths of your   denials.  
             
            Sometimes people are too much for me to be with.  
             
            The   understatement of denial overpowers  
            the shadowing of supreme gratification,  
             
            Screams forth to be freed —  
             
            Finally to be seen.  
          
         
         
        Sullivan Ballou Letter 
            
        A week before the battle of Bull Run, Sullivan Ballou, a Major in the Second   Rhode Island Volunteers, wrote home to his wife in Smithfield.  
             
            ____________________________________________________________________  
             
             
            July 14,   1861  
            Camp Clark, Washington   DC  
             
            Dear Sarah:  
            The indications are very strong   that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. And lest I should not be   able to write you again I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under   your eye when I am no more.  
             
            I have no misgivings about, or   lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not   halt or falter. I know how American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of   the government and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through   the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing - perfectly willing   - to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this government, and to   pay that debt.  
             
            Sarah, my love for you is   deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but omnipotence   can break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears   me irresistibly with all those chains to the battlefield. The memory of all the   blissful moments I have enjoyed with you come crowding over me, and I feel most   deeply grateful to God and you, that I have enjoyed them for so long. And how   hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes and future years,   when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and see our   boys grown up to honorable manhood around us.  
             
            If I do not return, my dear Sarah,   never forget how much I loved you, nor that when my last breath escapes me on   the battle field, it will whisper your name...  
             
            Forgive my many faults, and the   many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have sometimes   been!...  
             
            But, 0 Sarah, if the dead can come   back to this earth and flit unseen around those they love, I shall always be   with you, in the brightest day and in the darkest night... always, always. And   when the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath, or the cool air   your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.  
             
            Sarah do not mourn me dead; think   I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again...  
             
            ____________________________________________________________________  
             
             
            Sullivan   Ballou was killed a week later at the 1st Battle of Bull Run.  
             
          The   Sullivan Ballou Letter: as it was read on the PBS series The CIVIL WAR.  
          
         
          
        
          
              Movie Review: “9 Songs”
                
                12-08-05  
                by   marty kleva  
               
                 
             
           
          
            
              Tartan   Video: Directed by Michael Winterbottom, Starring Kieran O’Brien and Margo   Stilley, Released 10-29-03  
                 
                Finally, Michael Winterbottom has   produced the movie I have long dreamed of. One in which there is an authentic   story of unfolding drama and sex between a man and a woman who have just met.  
                 
                In this case, the story is of Matt, a self-assured male who encourages   forth a younger and less sexually mature female, Lisa, to experience the power   of singularly opening herself to her sexual partner. He provides the model for   her to mimic, and for us to follow.  
                 
                Matt has a very strong unassuming   masculine nature and is very comfortable with his own sexuality, even as he   bends to Lisa’s egotistical self-absorption.  
                 
                Whan the alarm goes off the   morning after their first encounter. She gets out of bed and tells him she has   an appointment, and dresses without so much as the acknowledgement that she has   had a night of sex with him. He is evidently already involved. She is cool and   detached.  
                 
                Matt is forever appreciative of Lisa, and gives her his full   attention as a sexual partner who understands what his (in this case) role is —   that of bringing the female to a level that is parallel to his own arousal. What   follows is a sex scene of great involvement portrayed by him with slow, deep,   penetrating thrusts designed to arouse her.  
                 
                They travel for a weekend   excursion, playing a game of word association in the car. He says “love.” She   says “lust.”  
                 
                In a beach scene, he strips nude and dives into the   freezing surf after she playfully calls him boring. He turns his gorgeous body   around thigh deep in the froth of the sea and declares over the sound of the   pounding waves, “I love you.” as he spreads his arms outward and opens his heart   to her. Botticelli’s Venus rising from the sea was never so erotic.  
                 
                His   voice in narration depicts her as “21, beautiful, egotistical, careless and   crazy.” She is all of these. He is an exquisite lover, attuned to every nuance   of her state of arousal, forcing her to pay attention to him. He teases her to   stay at the edges of her availability, her hands tied, eyes wrapped in black   silk, while he displays the epitome of sexual prowess.  
                 
                They have their   typical honeymoon is over — disillusionment spat at morning tea that is too hot,   and which he has dosed with sugar, which she doesn’t take. She accuses him of   being “booorrring!” and of “not paying attention to me!” She throws a hissy fit,   and takes medication for some unexplained reason. Just like real life.  
                 
                After the storm is over, she tries to mollify him. Clearly, she is   uncomfortable with something that is unfolding within her. She comes home with   the token Forgive-Me-Gift, wearing a newly bought pair of panties that are tied   with a turquoise satin ribbon to turn him on. He showed her just how turned on   he was.  
                 
                There are several more sizzling sex scenes; yet later she tells   him she is leaving to return to America, showing her inability to stay and make   a commitment to him.  
                 
                It is only here that the choice of actress does not   quite fit, as with Margo Stilley and her British accent, though her performance   is extremely believable, she is clearly not American as depicted by the script.  
                 
                If actor Kiernan O’Brien was not an exquisite lover before this film, he   certainly was after the five months of filming. I can certainly appreciate the   pressure that he must have experienced to perform on camera!  
                 
                This film   is a cinema breakthrough and provides the benchmark for all those to come after.   It portrays an authentic sexual and emotional relationship, depicting sex scenes   without the fake, out-to-lunch, vacant faces of the participants, as they appear   to fuck each other to death, which is the hallmark with x-rated films.  
                 
                However, it brings me to wonder about the absence of genuine feelings   during the act of sex as is usually shown in modern sex films. Do they truly   reflect the usual sexual practices happening in today’s culture?  
                 
                Certainly, there can be just the act of sex between between two people.   However, if that is all that we ever experience, how are we to ever know that   there is something far greater available?  
                 
                There is the act, and then,   there is the experience. Both very different from each other. One transcends the   other in ways almost indescribable, and in my estimation, achieved either purely   by accident, or deliberately with the full conscious attention of both partners.  
                 
                In the film, transcendent sex is available to Matt. It seems he is aware   of this possibility. In a very endearing act of giving, provided by his mature   male confidence, he patiently tutors Lisa to bring her to full awareness of her   feminine sexuality.  
                 
                Here is a perfect primer for men to emulate if they   wish to experience the role of receiving the best sex they ever dreamed of from   a woman.  
                 
                The Antarctic feature in this movie offers an interesting   contrast to the torrid landscape of hot sexual scenes, yet it also provides a   metaphor of the ice breaking away from the heart of the Antarctic Continent, the   Heart of The Mother: with great tons of opaque chunks crashing down or quietly   setting adrift onto the sea of life, into which they finally melt, as in the   arms of a lover.  
                 
                Matt says, “It’s beautiful.” as he looks down upon it   from the plane transporting him back to his profession as a scientist there. The   movie fittingly ends filming the shadow imprint of the plane as it moves across   the landscape of the stark white ice floes.  
                 
                Throughout the movie, the   film inserts nine concerts of rock bands in England that Matt and Lisa attend.   In these features, there are literally thousands of people standing in front of   a stage with music blaring from very sophisticated sound systems.  
                 
                One   can only hope that we will all take a lesson from the main character of Matt as   he so profoundly shows how to be of service and devotion to the feminine sexual   nature of a woman.  
                 
                This woman salutes all those men who already are in   tune with that powerful part of themselves as they make exquisite love to the   women in their lives.  
                 
                - mek  
                
               
                
              
              marty kleva  
              
                 
                  One day you appear  
              on my search for Self  
                             I look into your face  
                                          as it opens onto the page  
                                                    Peering back  
                                                              your eyes contract  
                                                                             and deepen,  
                                                                                      Their gaze  
                                                                                                draws me in  
                                                                                                          Your smile  
                                                                                                                    an   invitation  
                                                                                                                                  Beckons  
                   
                                                                                                                                I smile too  
                                                                                                                        Slip closer  
                                                                                                              And touch  
                                                                                                        your heart  
                                                                                            expanding toward me  
                                                                                  Savoring  
                                                                        I close my eyes  
                                                            Allowing  
                                                    the surrender  
                                          To be surrounded  
                              Then   feel  
                your arms enfold me  
                   
                  Hear  
    the unspoken   knowledge  
                    Of Love  
                              from   another place  
                                                  another time  
                                                                Two souls  
                                                                              renewing Love  
                                                                                                  to live  
                                                                                                          once again  
                                                                                                                in the caress of  
                                                                                                                                    The Other. 
               
                    
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