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”

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



The Great Attractor

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

                                                                                                                            I smile too
                                                                                                                    Slip closer
                                                                                                            And touch
                                                                                                    your heart
                                                                                          expanding toward me
                                                                      I close my eyes
                                                  the surrender
                                        To be surrounded
                              Then feel
                your arms enfold me

    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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