Under a full moon, one more hot sleepless night.
Mr. Tomcat, do you sing about impossible love, too?

Lialusni nerk’vo, yevs mi shog, ank’un gisher,
Paron Katu, duk’ el yek’ yergum anhnar siro masin?

Լիալուսնի ներքո, ևս մի շոգ, անքուն գիշեր,
Պարոն Կատու, դուք էլ եք երգում անհնար սիրո մասին?

THREE VARIATIONS ON DESIRE’S ALPHABET

“How many licks” – Lil Kim

I need a new word. The ancient mothers had tongue,
but I’ve lost how to read. The Chinese call it, “Tiǎn yīn.”
The Greeks, “Aidoioleixía.” The Welsh, “Gweinlyfu.”

The Tamil, “Vāy neṟikkōṇam.” The Nepali,
“Yōnī mukhamaithuna.” But for the rest of the world
it is simply “Cunnilingus,” or “Kunilengus,” or

“Cunnilingio.” It sounds like a medical term. The fruit from
the Tree of Diana would never taste like how that word sounds.
The Mystery is there, on the tip of our tongues, I can

almost hear the proper words, like trying to decipher
the chaos as the Goddess of the Hunt brings down the old boar;
at the climax we all make noise that sounds like sacrament.

][

“… despite knowing it means they’re dying.” – lucyquin

Mother Lilith, progenitor, what breeds
deeper disquiet in the human heart

than this celibacy that only bleeds
the soul of ecstasy, sets us apart

from the Divine? Debauchery, speaking
in tongues, music: they hold truths and secrets

that the piety of silence, lacking
epiphany, can’t find. When you say, “sluts

and whores,” you speak of prophets. We all die,
Lilith, but not all of us have to numb

our souls first. First Mother, First Wife;
let the world burn, even Augustine’s lie.

Orgasm: it’s the closest that we’ll come
to the Divine in this short, little life.

][

                    Babylon, man-child,
          grow up, there is
              more to riding off
      on a foamy white
          horse, a jism of
    release, never to
                    return, the patriarch
          will fall for he is
              blind, somewhere
      in Rome hidden
          from view rests
    Saint Hripsime’s chemise,
                    made of sackcloth,
      which rubbed her
          right there when
    she walked, for even
                    martyrs are full
      of desire, much
            like in Boccaccio’s
                  Decameron, in
      the first story of the
          third day when Masetto
    becomes a gardener,
                  who “tills the soil
            and makes barren
                    plots fertile,” discreet
          easing of the pangs of
      lust among the bold
              sisters and abbess
                  and though Hripsime
          was a virgin Pier
      Paolo Pasolini showed
                  us how Christ treats
    those who put horns
          on his crown, they are
                 the true
              children of heaven.

I’ve been at a conference in Chicago for the last couple of days and near Millennium Park I saw this ….

I’ve been at a conference in Chicago for the last couple of days and near Millennium Park I saw this ….

Album Art

Asajj’s Blues, as performed by Hookah Mama.

sexyray1982:

Truth…

sexyray1982:

Truth…

glendonrootsandshoots:

Crimson Irony by `yuumei
The ironic truth:
Ever since the movie, Jaws, people have had an irrational fear of sharks. The ironic truth is that humans are the ones killing off all the sharks. You’re more likely to die from lightning strikes or falling coconuts than sharks. There are only around 60 shark attacks per year, and only around 4 of those attacks are fatal. The shark attacks are usually accidents in which the shark mistakes a surfer for a seal. However, over 104,000,000 sharks are killed by humans every year.
Around 78 million of the 104 million dead sharks are killed only for their fins to be put into shark fin soup. The soup is a popular dish in Asian countries, and falsely believed to have health benefits such as sex life enhancement. Shark finning is the cruel act of cutting off the shark’s fins while it is still alive, then the still living shark is wastefully thrown back into the ocean to die a slow and painful death. Can you imagine the agony of someone chopping off your arms and legs and leaving you to bleed to death just so they can have a make believe better sex life?
The irony of the situation is that due to all the pollution we dump into the ocean, the sharks and other apex predators like dolphins and whales have accumulated a dangerous level of toxins such as mercury (this process called biomagnication is not as bad with fish on the lower food chain so we can still eat those). Eating animals like sharks can cause mercury poisoning, which will not only cause nerve damage and eventual retardation, but also decrease your sexual performance. 
Why it matters to YOU:
Sharks are an important part of our ecosystem. They have been around for 430 million years, and that time, all of the ocean’s life have evolved around sharks. If sharks go extinct, the fragile balance of the ocean will be thrown into chaos. Without sharks to eat fish on the lower food chain, those fish will breed out of control and eat all the plankton that’s needed to produce oxygen. 
Unlike some fish that lays thousands of eggs every year, sharks only produce 2-20 pups per year. If we catch them at the same rate as other fish we eat, they will go extinct. What worse is that people don’t even eat the shark itself, just the fins because they believe it will help their sex life.
How you can help:
Shark finning is technically banned in many countries, but there is no real effort to stop the illegal trade of shark fins. However, just by simply spreading awareness about the toxic truth behind shark fin soup, we can help bring down the demand for shark fins which will ultimately break down the illegal trade. If people are educated about the fact that shark fin soup doesn’t actually make them better at sex, and that it can actually poison them, then they will no long want to buy it. 
A simple way to spread awareness is to post this picture on your own dA, blog, or website along with the info above. You have my full permission repost this drawing anywhere you want. Also tweet and facebook it to all your friends and family. The more people who knows, the more difference we can make!
You can also help by donating to shark conservation causes at:
SSCS
Oceana
Save Our Seas
Shark Trust
For more information, you can watch the amazing documentary Sharkwater.
A short video showing the extent sharks are being slaughtered
A short video of showing the true gentle nature of sharks by Cristina Zenato
Erik Brush’s book about the consequences of shark extinction
Thank you for helping!

glendonrootsandshoots:

Crimson Irony by `yuumei

The ironic truth:

Ever since the movie, Jaws, people have had an irrational fear of sharks. The ironic truth is that humans are the ones killing off all the sharks. You’re more likely to die from lightning strikes or falling coconuts than sharks. There are only around 60 shark attacks per year, and only around 4 of those attacks are fatal. The shark attacks are usually accidents in which the shark mistakes a surfer for a seal. However, over 104,000,000 sharks are killed by humans every year.

Around 78 million of the 104 million dead sharks are killed only for their fins to be put into shark fin soup. The soup is a popular dish in Asian countries, and falsely believed to have health benefits such as sex life enhancement. Shark finning is the cruel act of cutting off the shark’s fins while it is still alive, then the still living shark is wastefully thrown back into the ocean to die a slow and painful death. Can you imagine the agony of someone chopping off your arms and legs and leaving you to bleed to death just so they can have a make believe better sex life?

The irony of the situation is that due to all the pollution we dump into the ocean, the sharks and other apex predators like dolphins and whales have accumulated a dangerous level of toxins such as mercury (this process called biomagnication is not as bad with fish on the lower food chain so we can still eat those). Eating animals like sharks can cause mercury poisoning, which will not only cause nerve damage and eventual retardation, but also decrease your sexual performance. 

Why it matters to YOU:

Sharks are an important part of our ecosystem. They have been around for 430 million years, and that time, all of the ocean’s life have evolved around sharks. If sharks go extinct, the fragile balance of the ocean will be thrown into chaos. Without sharks to eat fish on the lower food chain, those fish will breed out of control and eat all the plankton that’s needed to produce oxygen. 

Unlike some fish that lays thousands of eggs every year, sharks only produce 2-20 pups per year. If we catch them at the same rate as other fish we eat, they will go extinct. What worse is that people don’t even eat the shark itself, just the fins because they believe it will help their sex life.

How you can help:

Shark finning is technically banned in many countries, but there is no real effort to stop the illegal trade of shark fins. However, just by simply spreading awareness about the toxic truth behind shark fin soup, we can help bring down the demand for shark fins which will ultimately break down the illegal trade. If people are educated about the fact that shark fin soup doesn’t actually make them better at sex, and that it can actually poison them, then they will no long want to buy it. 

A simple way to spread awareness is to post this picture on your own dA, blog, or website along with the info above. You have my full permission repost this drawing anywhere you want. Also tweet and facebook it to all your friends and family. The more people who knows, the more difference we can make!

You can also help by donating to shark conservation causes at:

For more information, you can watch the amazing documentary Sharkwater.

Thank you for helping!

(via breakingtheicewithchainsaws)

this is what you shall do:

Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body …

"The Invisible Man" by Pablo Neruda translated by ZJC

I laugh,
I smile
at the old poets,
I cherish all
their poetry,
all their dew,
moon, diamond, droplets
from submerged silver
that my graybeard brothers
festoon onto roses,
but
I smile;
for they always say “I,”
every where they go
something occurs
and it is always “I,”
down these streets,
only they
or their beloved,
walk down these streets,
no one else,
there are no fishermen about,
no bookstore merchants,
no bricklayers walking about,
no one stumbles and falls
from their scaffolding,
not one person suffers,
not one person loves,
only my poor brother,
the poet,
everything is happening
to him
and to his beloved,
no one lives
but him, the solitary poet,
no one weeps from hunger
or anger,
not one person suffers
in all his poetry
because he was unable
to pay the rent,
not one person
in all his poetry
is evicted from his house
with everything he owns,
and in factories,
nothing happens, no,
all our umbrellas, cups and bowls, are forged
bombs, guns and trains are built,
the elements are mined
by scraping up hell,
there is a worker’s strike,
military police arrive
and open fire,
they fire upon the people,
which is also to say,
against poetry,
ai, but my brother,
the poet,
was in love,
or he was agonizing
for in his throbbing heart
is only the sea,
and distant ports of call
yes, he loves their names,
and he writes about the ocean
the one he has never seen,
when life is as full
as the grain from an ear of corn
he walks by, never wondering
once how to harvest corn,
and he rides upon waves
without ever touching the shore,
and, now and then,
he is moved, perhaps profoundly
and deeply, but with despair,
you see, he is too sublime
to fit inside his own skin,
he gets himself ensnared, unscrambled,
he declares that he must be accursed,
with great sighs he drags about the cross
of darkness,
he knows that he is at odds with
everyone else in the world,
still, he eats bread every
morning but he has never
seen a baker
never attended union
meeting of bakers,
and so, my poor brother,
he becomes intentionally tricky,
he twists his words and writhes
and finds himself
and his words
complex,
complex,
ai, that’s the word,
I am no better
than my brother,
but I smile,
because when I walk down the street
I am the only one who does not exist,
all of life floods about me
like tidal rivers,
but I am the only
one who is now invisible,
I have no cryptic shadows,
no melancholia, nothing is dark,
you see, people speak to me,
people want to tell me things,
to talk about their families,
all their grief, all their gaiety,
people pass by, and people
talk to me about things,
look at all the things they do!
They chop wood,
string up electrical lights,
they bake bread late into the night,
our morning bread,
with pick ax and irons
they pierce the entrails
of the earth
and convert the minerals
into locks,
they rise into the sky and
carry airmail and sobs and kisses,
someone is standing
in every single doorway,
someone is being born,
my beloved is waiting for me,
and, as I walk along, these things
call out for me to sing them,
but how can I? I haven’t time,
I must examine everything
I hurry home now,
hurry off to the Party office;
what else can I do?
People everywhere ask me
to sing for them, yes, sing forever,
until everyone is drowned
in dreams and in colors,
ai, life is a gift
flooded with songs, the gift flies
open and a flock
of wild birds fly out
and they all want to tell me things,
they perch on my shoulders,
life is a struggle,
just like a rolling river and
all of humanity
wants to tell me,
to tell you,
why they are struggling,
and, if they are to be executed,
why they will die,
and I pass them all and haven’t
time enough for so many lives,
I want
them all to live
inside my soul,
to sing out my song,
I am not important,
I have no free time
for my own passions,
all night and all day
I must write this down
what is occurring, please
let me try not to miss anything.
It is true that, extraordinarily,
at times I do get tired,
I look up at the cosmos,
I lie down in the grass, a bug
the same color as a violin
marches by,
I place my palm across
a sapling breast
or between the hips
of the woman I love,
I try to study the silk
of the trembling night,
all frozen with destiny,
then
I feel waves of mystery
pouring out from my soul,
ai, childhood, my little self
weeping in a corner,
my heartbreaking youth,
I feel so sleepy
so I sleep
just like a log,
in no time I am
unconscious,
with or without destiny,
with or without my lover,
and when I wake up
all the night is long gone,
all the streets have come alive without me,
the poor barrio girls
are off on their way to work,
fishermen return
from the sea,
the miners
in brand new boots
are going down into the mines,
yes, everything is alive, awake,
yes, everyone is
hurrying back and forth,
and I have scarcely enough time
to struggle into my clothing,
I must fly:
no on must
pass by without my seeing
where he is going,
what she is doing.
I cannot live without
life,
without people being people,
I must run and look and listen
and sing,
stars have nothing
for me, solitude
bears not a single flower,
not a single fruit.
For my life, give me
every life,
give me every agony
the world has ever had
and I will transform them all
into desire.
Give me
every rapture,
even the most secret,
because if not,
how will they ever be known?
I must tell them,
please, give me your
daily struggles
so I can make up my song,
that way we will be together,
shoulder to shoulder,
everyone single one,
let my song unite us:
this song of the invisible man
singing along with everyone.

garcia lorca’s sorpresa [por michael brown]

… because even as I work on this translation another person has been shot by police in Ferguson, MO. As Garcia Lorca said about an apathetic country when its children are murdered by their own police, "Nobody could look into his eyes staring up into the hard air." I suppose this is the point where I say something cliché like, "I pray for peace," when in reality the only way there will be peace is when those who have been hiding behind their "to serve and protect" badges are held accountable.


][


SORPRESA

— by Federico Garcia Lorca

Muerto se quedó en la calle con un puñal en el pecho.
No lo conocía nadie.
¡Cómo temblaba el farol!
¡Madre, cómo temblaba el farolito de la calle!
Era madrugada.
Nadie pudo asomarse a sus ojos abiertos al duro aire.
Que muerto se quedó en la calle que con un puñal en el pecho y que no lo conocía nadie.

][

[in English]

SURPRISE

Dead they left him in the street with a knife in his chest.
No one knew who he was.
How the lamppost trembled!
Mother! How the little lantern trembled!
It was early morning.
Nobody could look into his eyes staring up into the hard air.
And he was dead in the street with a knife in his chest, and no one knew who he was.

][

[in Armenian, transliteration]

ANAKNKAL

Merrats e, vor lk’yel e nran p’voghots’um danakov ir krtsk’avandaki.
Voch’ vok’ ch’giter, t’ye ov e na:
Vor lapterasyun vakhets’av!
Mayry! P’vok’r lamperi vakhets’av!
Da vagh arravotyan:
Voch’ vok’ ch’i karogh nayel nra ach’k’yeri mej ch’ap’azants’ ach’k’i ynknogh mej tsanr od:
Yev na merrats p’voghots’um danakov ir krtsk’avandaki, yev voch’ vok’ ch’giter, t’ye ov e ink’y:

][

[in Armenian]

ԱՆԱԿՆԿԱԼ

Մեռած է, որ լքել է նրան փողոցում դանակով իր կրծքավանդակի.
Ոչ ոք չգիտեր, թե ով է նա:
Որ լապտերասյուն վախեցավ!
Մայրը! Փոքր լամպերի վախեցավ!
Դա վաղ առավոտյան:
Ոչ ոք չի կարող նայել նրա աչքերի մեջ չափազանց աչքի ընկնող մեջ ծանր օդ:
Եւ նա մեռած փողոցում դանակով իր կրծքավանդակի, եւ ոչ ոք չգիտեր, թե ով է ինքը: