"Loving is a journey with water and with stars, with smothered air and abrupt storms of flour: loving is a clash of lightning-bolts and two bodies defeated by a single drop of honey." - Pablo Neruda
Artist: Cy Twombly
There is opposition and struggle even in love. A force so great, that if willing, allows you the opportunity to become more then what you are, by inclusion. -tM
"In one kiss you will know all I haven't said." -Pablo Neruda
A kiss is never just a kiss; it is a truth serum. -tM
The gay young men and the love-sick girls,
and the abandoned widows suffering in sleepless delirium,
and the young pregnant wives of thirty hours,
and the raucous cats that cruise my garden in the shadows,
like a necklace of pulsating oysters of sex
surround my lonely residence,
like enemies lined up against my soul,
like conspirators in bedroom clothes
who exchange long deep kisses to order.
The radiant summer leads to lovers
in predictable melancholic regiments,
made of fat and skinny, sad and happy pairings:
under the elegant coconut palms, near the ocean and the moon,
goes an endless movement of trousers and dresses,
a whisper of silk stockings being caressed,
and womens breasts that sparkle like eyes.
The little employee, after it all,
after the weeks boredom, and novels read by night in bed,
has definitively seduced the girl next door,
and carried her away to a run-down movie house
where the heroes are studs or princes mad with passion,
and strokes her legs covered with soft down
with his moist and ardent hands that smell of cigarettes.
The seducers afternoons and married peoples nights
come together like the sheets and bury me,
and the hours after lunch when the young male students
and the young girl students, and the priests, masturbate,
and the creatures fornicate outright,
and the bees smell of blood, and the flies madly buzz,
and boy and girl cousins play oddly together,
and doctors stare in fury at the young patients husband,
and the morning hours in which the professor, as if to pass the time,
performs his marriage duties, and breakfasts,
and moreover, the adulterers, who love each other truly
on beds as high and deep as ocean liners:
finally, eternally surrounding me
is a gigantic forest breathing and tangled
with gigantic flowers like mouths with teeth
and black roots in the shape of hooves and shoes.
Never Blame Anyone
by Pablo Neruda
Never complain about anyone, nor anything,
because basically you have done
what you wanted in your life.
Accept the difficulty of improving yourself
and the courage to start changing yourself.
The triumph of the true man emerges from
the ashes of his mistake.
Never complain about your loneliness or your
luck, face it with courage and accept it.
In one way or another it is the outcome of
your acts and the thought that you always
have to win.
Don’t be embittered by your own failure or
blame it on another, accept yourself now or
you’ll keep making excuses for yourself like a child.
Remember that any time is
a good time to begin and that nobody
is so horrible that they should give up.
Don’t forget that the cause of your present
is your past, as well as the cause of your
future will be your present.
Learn from the bold, the strong,
those who don’t accept situations, who
will live in spite of everything. Think less in
your problems and more in your work and
your problems, without eliminating them, will die.
Learn how to grow from the pain and to be
greater than the greatest of those
obstacles. Look at yourself in the mirror
and you will be free and strong and you will stop
being a puppet of circumstances because you
yourself are your own destiny.
Arise and look at the sun in the mornings
and breathe the light of the dawn.
You are part of the force of your life;
now wake up, fight, get going, be decisive
and you will triumph in life. Never think about
luck because luck is
the pretext of losers.
The message is loud and clear, never play the victim and accept yourself and the circumstances of your life. Another noteworthy poem and memo from the late great P.N. -tM
Til then my windows ache
Matilde, where are you? Down there I noticed,
under my necktie and just above the heart,
a certain pang of grief between the ribs,
you were gone that quickly.
I needed the light of your energy,
I looked around, devouring hope.
I watched the void without you that is like a house,
nothing left but tragic windows.
Out of sheer taciturnity the ceiling listens
to the fall of the ancient leafless rain,
to feathers, to whatever the night imprisoned:
so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.
In life and in hope there are certain windows that will remain perpetually open. -tM
Photography: Unknown | Italy
Not everyone is capable of loving us the way we need to be loved. -tM
by Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.
For once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fisherman in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
Detach from the doing and be there in the stillness of life for awhile. -tM
Actions are always stronger then words. -tM
Hot summer nights, mid-August,
"Like conspirators in bedroom clothes, we exchanged long deep kisses." - Pablo Neruda (excerpt from The Lone Gentleman paraphrased)
Weeks of boredom satiated by momentary eclipses of lust and happy pairings.
Cigarettes after sex, your lips, my lips; definitively seduced. -tM
"I need the sea because it teaches me." -Pablo Neruda
"I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul."
"Sometimes a piece of sun burned like a coin in my hand." - Pablo Neruda
ordinary everyday things are closely examined by Neruda. The aspects of our modern life are handled, turned around, and examined with love, care, and attention.
Sensuous and powerful in conveying to us what we are at the root of our existence, there is something incredibly powerful about the way he glorifies mundane life experiences; urgently sweeping you away, into a world established in truth and bound by nature in the most amorous of ways. It is truly the stuff that makes up life's narrative. -tM
If you feel ever so inspired to swim in the vast sea of his poetry a little longer, take the time to watch Il Postino, a beautiful film and reminder about what is truly important in life.
"I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees." -Pablo Neruda
"If nothing saves us from death, may love at least save us from life."
"At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and rain like my mouth..."
-Pablo Neruda, Regalo de un Poeta
"Someday, somewhere-anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life." - Pablo Neruda
Photography: Christophe Kutner