From the verses of Shakespeare to the violence of Football, a soft hand on the nape of my neck to a rim's hard rattle after a dunk, the mute of Miles to the rhymes of Rakim, Hershey's chocolate to a garlic peppered, cedar-planked salmon, Joel Dias-Porter's thoughts scatter like grains of black sand across a wind-blown beach.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
THE EMPRESS OF HIGH DESIRE
Call her an electric currency.
Imagine a banknote high as her cheekbones.
Yearn to say grace in Cantonese.
Not before an ordinary meal,
but before lips full as ripe fruit.
Say the tongue dreams of tasting her oranges, freshly peeled. Dreams they say pluck me in Mandarin, of softly circling a Navel.
The flesh pulses with Blood anticipating a touch.
What does she deal if not a high card narcotic ? Call her addiction (opiate):
OK, here's a version of a crazy poem I was playing around with. The actual poem has a slightly different layout, but I don't think this blog format will display it properly. Lots of punning and tangential leaps, a few jokes and lines I thought might be clever. I guess it's a love poem of some sort.
rides a breeze, her song washes like eternal waves, (although sea water and the salt of sorrow may be too married.) Medleyed with a morning sun, her tone tracks the heart's arc. Since all that would elevate fear what falling might follow, she is careful, sings of descent first, is cautious with what she allows to be heard in the harmony. And we wonder what price of translation she pays, as she sings in a voice that is naked and slowly utters every word by barefoot word.
Her voice is more searchlight than song, splashes dunes with waves of something wilder than water. Her lyrics are a people's sighs medleyed with moonlight, a sound like whales exhaling. Since tears shine, what saline struggle she's tasted illuminates her, reflecting what traces of grace she may have seen in the foam swirling across what beach she walks. She knows the sea and sorrow sing in the same key, but chooses to listen to what the tide utters in the interim, word by rising word.
"This victory alone is not the change we seek, it is only the chance to make that change."
Past all the symbolism and the emotional import of last night remains the fact that this man is the real deal. Like the Tiger Woods of politics, not just I think in his appeal, but in his sheer ability to perform under pressure and get the job done. I am not often impressed, but last night watching that speech I was about as impressed as I have ever been by a politician. I loved the way he used the quote above to switch the tenor of his speech and deal with the reality of the situation we face. May god bless Barack Obama and god bless the United States of America. (Yeah, I'm a non-theist, but so what)