DAILY PHOTO: Zambezi Views
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Sultans and Spices, Guns and Greed, Race and Religion: The Story of Malacca by Allein G. MooreO my body! I dare not desert the likes of
you in other men and women, nor the
likes of the parts of you,
I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall
with the likes of the soul, (and that they
are the soul,)
I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall
with my poems, and that they are my
poems,
Man's, woman's, child's, youth's, wife's,
husband's, mother's, father's, young
man's, young woman's poems,
Head, neck, hair, ears, drop and tympan of
the ears,
Eyes, eye-fringes, iris of the eye, eyebrows,
and the waking or sleeping of the lids,
Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth, roof of the
mouth, jaws, and the jaw-hinges,
Nose, nostrils of the nose, and the partition,
Cheeks, temples, forehead, chin, throat,
back of the neck, neck-slue,
Strong shoulders, manly beard, scapula,
hind-shoulders, and the ample side-
round of the chest,
Upper-arm, armpit, elbow-socket, lower-
arm, arm-sinews, arm-bones,
Wrist and wrist-joints, hand, palm,
knuckles, thumb, forefinger, finger-joints,
finger-nails,
Broad breast-front, curling hair of the
breast, breast-bone, breast-side,
Ribs, belly, backbone, joints of the
backbone,
Hips, hip-sockets, hip-strength, inward and
outward round, man-balls, man-root,
Strong set of thighs, well carrying the trunk
above,
Leg fibres, knee, knee-pan, upper-leg,
under-leg,
Ankles, instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the
heel;
All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the
belongings of my or your body or of any
one's body, male or female,
The lung-sponges, the stomach-sac, the
bowels sweet and clean,
The brain in its folds inside the skull-frame,
Sympathies, heart-valves, palate-valves,
sexuality, maternity,
Womanhood, and all that is a woman, and
the man that comes from woman,
The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk,
tears, laughter, weeping, love-looks, love-
perturbations and risings,
The voice, articulation, language,
whispering, shouting aloud,
Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep,
walking, swimming,
Poise on the hips, leaping, reclining,
embracing, arm-curving and tightening,
The continual changes of the flex of the
mouth, and around the eyes,
The skin, the sunburnt shade, freckles, hair,
The curious sympathy one feels when
feeling with the hand the naked meat of
the body,
The circling rivers the breath, and breathing
it in and out,
The beauty of the waist, and thence of the
hips, and thence downward toward the
knees,
The thin red jellies within you or within
me, the bones and the morrow in the
bones,
The exquisite realization of health;
O I say these are not the parts and poems of
the body only, but of the soul,
O I say now these are the soul!
Everyone loves an impassioned dance --
Not merely for its grace & athleticism --
But, also, because it's emblematic
Of being free -- truly free.
If features the two essential levels
Of freedom:
Freedom from without -- one's body
Being unrestricted and untethered.
&
Freedom from within -- one's mind
Being unfettered by self-consciousness.
Unbound and not weighed down by thought...
That is Freedom.
There's something beloved about
an ancient place.
Entropy increases.
Nature devours.
Nothing lasts forever.
Nothing of man can be built of stone
sturdy enough or steel resistant
enough to become ancient
by mere persistence.
It must be loved.
Someone must clean the grass
from the cracks, must scrub
moss & mold, must replace
pieces that slough off...
(& must do it all with tender
craftsmanship.)
I suspect anything ancient
that's higher than my knee
is a Theseus's ship:
rebuilt stone by stone through the ages
until only a wafting idea of the place
remains ancient.
A woman's body at auction,
She too is not only herself, she is the
teeming mother of mothers,
She is the bearer of them that shall grow
and be mates to the mothers.
Have you ever loved the body of a woman?
Have you ever loved the body of a man?
Do you not see that these are exactly the
same to all in all nations and times all
over the earth?
If any thing is sacred the human body is
sacred,
And the glory and sweet of a man is the
token of manhood untainted,
And in man or woman a clean, strong, firm-
fibered body, is more beautiful than the
most beautiful face.
Have you seen the fool that corrupted his
own live body? or the fool that corrupted
her own live body?
For they do not conceal themselves, and
cannot conceal themselves.
Sweet Tooth, Vol. 3: Animal Armies by Jeff LemireStony & Frozen:
and yet there's something
the mind loves about
snowcapped mountains.
Something calming --
Maybe it's their stillness.
Maybe it's a nature sync.
Maybe it's that one is in
a green pasture with a
pleasant breeze and
sun warming one's face
as one looks upon those
harsh and barren lands.
Maybe it's awe at the proximity
of the inhospitable -- the uninhabitable --
lands, lands that seem so close
to one's idyllically habitable lands.
(If owing more to their grandiosity
than true proximity.)